Scene 16, later
"Can you do the thing again?" Breka asks, turning to Loki who's lying next to him.
"What thing?"
"What you did after you knocked me out, to show me what your magic feels like."
"Your wish is my command."
Loki holds out his hand, golden light shimmering at his fingertips.
"It's beautiful," Breka says with a look of wonder.
Loki gently touches Breka's forehead, then runs his fingertips over Breka's temple and cheekbone. Breka closes his eyes with a soft moan.
"It feels like your soul is in that touch."
"My heart and soul are in every touch. Whenever I touch you," Loki whispers against Breka's neck, bending down. He places a kiss behind Breka's ear and pulls back. "But I know what you mean. Some call it core, some call it essence. The traditional writings call it seidr."
"Do all your family have it?"
"My father doesn't. Thor does, but he never explored it beyond summoning thunder and lightning, or wielding Mjölnir." Loki lies back and stares at the ceiling. "At this court, magic only matters when it heals injured soldiers. But a wise king could make so much more use of it. Sorcerers should sit in the council. Or sorceresses. Have you noticed there isn't a single woman on the board?" Loki sighs. "If I was king I'd have very different council members. Also Asgard would have a head magician."
"Which would probably be you."
"Maybe. Maybe I'd find someone better suited than myself. But it won't happen. I have an older brother and the king very much favours him."
"Do you like your brother?"
Loki snorts.
"He's so boring. Plain and—well let's say, not the brightest candle on the chandelier. I don't think he's ever had an original thought of his own. He just copies father. Always agrees with him. Sounds like him." He sighs again. "I mean, Mother and Father are usually a united front too, but I can still tell when she disagrees. She always finds a way to make Father reconsider, see things from a different perspective. But Thor..."
He's silent for a moment, and when he goes on his voice is pained.
"And still I wish he'd see me as his equal. Wish he'd respect me."
He takes a breath.
"I probably shouldn't be telling you any of that. Would you tell me about your family instead? About your sister?"
Breka starts smiling.
"I adored her. She was tall and fierce and smart... she wanted to be a valkyrie. To me she was. And whenever something happened to me, when I fell or hurt myself in some way, she always took care of me. She would have never said it but she loved me. And then she was gone, and Father too, and it was only Mother and me. She changed a lot after they died. I tried so hard to make her smile, tried to be like my sister, like Father..." He sighs. "Mother didn't approve of me becoming a soldier."
"She was probably afraid of losing you too."
Breka pulls Loki on top of him.
"She would love Asgard under King Loki I think. Less battles, more diplomacy."
"You might find yourself unemployed," Loki says with a grin.
"Oh I'd find things to occupy myself," Breka murmurs and starts kissing Loki's chest and neck.
Scene17, the next morning
It's still dark when Breka slips out of the bed, careful not to wake Loki, and puts on his armour. Eventually the prince stirs and opens one eye.
"Hey," he says with a smile, "There's way too much leather and metal on you. Not that I don't like it or anything..."
Breka chuckles and leans in for a gentle kiss.
"I'm off to duty."
Loki snuggles into the mattress, hugging the pillow.
"Do you mind if I stay for a little while longer?"
"Depends... are you hiding from a council meeting?"
"No. I just enjoy being here."
"Fine then. In that case I'll allow it. See you on the training court later?"
"Sure."
"You might wanna give my sister's sword a bit more practice beforehand."
"Uuuhhh, homework?"
"Just so you look like you know what you're doing."
Scene 18, council meeting
"All I'm trying to say is that there are other things to take into account than warfare," Loki says with as much patience as he can muster, "and I would like the council to enlist members from other fields of expertise. Healers. Scholars. Poets. Musicians."
"Sorcerers," Thor snarls, "like you?"
"Or mother," Loki shoots back. He takes a breath and looks at Odin, trying to determine the part of his suggestion that has the best chance of approval.
"Father, please. Nobody can deny the importance of the healers' work for example. Yes, it's part magic, but it's also part science. Haven't you said yourself that they are one and the same? I don't see how it would diminish Asgard's glory if we taught our children the basics of medicine. Which is one of the ideas I've been talking about with one of the healers. His name is Leif. He's still young, but he's good. Maybe he could speak at an upcoming council meeting, present to the council—"
"What's next, brother? Florists? Bakers? Why not open up the council to anyone who feels like dropping by? And why stop at Asgardians, maybe you want to bring your children's mother? What could she possibly teach—oh right, how to give birth to monsters?"
Loki jumps up from his seat with so much force that the heavy chair topples over, landing on the stone floor with a loud bang. In a second he's at his brother's throat.
"Don't you dare insult Angrboda."
"Or what?"
Thor just grins and plucks Loki from his collar as if he weighs nothing.
"Just teasing, little brother. You have such a temper."
Odin has been watching the whole exchange with a half smile. Now he stands.
"That's enough, both of you. Thor, I need you to stay. Loki, I expect you to make progress in your sessions with Breka. And I mean on the training court. The council is dismissed."
A few of the council members snicker at the all-father's Breka comment. Loki clenches his fists.
"What about my suggestion, father?"
"Council members remain as they have always been. I see no need to change what has been good enough for our forefathers for millennia."
"But, father—"
"You just don't know when to yield, do you?!" Odin roars.
Loki's jaw sets. He's so angry it might lead to tears of frustration, so he turns and storms out of the room, his father's annoyed grumbling following him until the heavy doors slam shut behind him. The guards flanking the doors look straight ahead, their faces unreadable, as Loki almost runs down the halls of the palace towards his quarters.
Scene 19, Loki's quarters
Loki is pacing, still furious. Breka is sitting in the chair at Loki's desk.
"I'm sorry it didn't go as you were hoping it would."
"It's just so frustrating! I mean why do I even attend those meetings? It's not like anyone actually wants my opinion an anything!"
Breka stays silent. There's nothing he can say. Loki stops pacing and turns to look at him.
"And it's so unfair towards Leif, and stupid! I mean he's brilliant, I don't think my father even realises how powerful he is, how smart, and they just waste his talents!"
Breka gets up and steps in front of Loki, trying not to let on how intimidating he finds a furious prince of Asgard.
"Should I be jealous?"
"What?"
Loki looks utterly confused. Breka grins.
"The way you talk about Leif, my best friend, the man I introduced you to, I might get jealous!"
"Breka, please!"
Loki throws his hands up, but there's a tiny smile at the corner of his mouth. Breka stands close.
"Don't be angry. Let me distract you," he murmurs and kisses Loki's neck.
"You're impossible."
"I'm impossibly attracted to you."
Some of the tension leaves Loki's body, his shoulders relaxing, his fists unclenching.
"How do you do that? Make me feel better with just one kiss?"Loki murmurs, a smile sneaking into his voice.
"My own kind of magic," Breka says and drags his chin across Loki's neck. The prince shivers and tilts his head back, eyes closed.
"Wanna take off some of my leather and metal?" Breka whispers, and Loki takes a step back and lifts his hand.
"No. Do it the traditional way. I want your hands on me."
"Breka Borkason of the palace guard. You expect your prince to relieve you of your armour?"
Breka swallows but holds the eye contact.
"You know what that tone does to me, right? Your highness?"
"Oh I think I do," Loki purrs, starting to unbuckle Breka's uniform. He's taking his sweet time. After a few minutes Breka loses it.
"Fuck you, Loki, can you hurry up already?"
Loki chuckles, his warm breath teasing the soft skin on Breka's neck.
"Would you please make up your mind, darling mine?"
"Maybe I made a mistake when I dismissed the magical approach."
Breka is panting now. Loki raises an eyebrow.
"Admitting defeat, are we?"
"Yes, for Hel's sake, I admit. I'll say whatever you want if it just gets your hands on my bare skin."
Loki gives his lover his best mischievous grin.
"Whatever I want?"
A shiver runs down Breka's spine. He swallows again, self-conscious all of a sudden, and drops his gaze.
"Whatever you want, my lord," he whispers.
Loki lifts his chin.
"I want you—" he kisses Breka's cheekbone, "to tell me—" and jaw, "exactly what it is that you want me to do to you."
Breka's knees buckle. Loki catches him against his body.
"Steady, soldier. Hold your ground."
Loki locks eyes with Breka.
"Tell me. Be frank. Be brave. As brave as you are in the face of an enemy."
Breka swallows yet again. Loki gives him a smile. It's sweet and encouraging, so Breka asks:
"I… can I please look at you? Could you… magic away your own clothes? Please?"
"So you want me naked! As you wish," Loki says with a perfect bow, and when he straightens he's naked. It's not the first time Breka has seen him like this, but it still takes his breath away.
"You're glorious," Breka whispers and drops to his knees.
Loki just smiles down at him, not moving a muscle.
"Get me fully naked too?" Breka asks.
"And how would you prefer I do that?"
"Fast."
Loki bursts out laughing and moves his hand.
"You are quite the sight yourself," he murmurs, taking a step closer. "Naked at my feet, so eager, so willing. But tell me. What do you want?"
"I can't do this, Loki, please. Please don't make me beg. Or demand. Please just give me what I need?"
Loki leans down to caress Breka's face.
"How can I know what you need, love? I mean it. Tell me."
And Breka does. Looking up at Loki he tells him everything, all the things he's dreamed about, everything he'd like to do to him, do for him, everything he's craving to have done to him. Loki hums with pleasure at Breka's words, revelling in his lover's arousal, the way Breka's voice breaks, the way he looks at Loki as if he's the centre of his universe. Eventually Breka falls silent, face flushed, insecure and embarrassed and scared he might have said the wrong thing, but Loki just drops to his knees as well, frames Breka's face with both hands and kisses him with all his heart.
"Now where do we start?"