Scene 54
Angrboda opens her front door, sword in hand. She points it at her visitor's throat.
"Who are you?"
His gaze travels down her still naked body before locking eyes with her.
"I am Breka Borkason of the Asgardian palace guard, and I bring word from Queen Frigga for Prince Loki. Is he here?"
Angrboda stares at him for a long moment, sword unwavering. Eventually she lowers it.
"Wait here."
She closes the door in his face and returns to her bedroom. Leaning her sword against the wall she says:
"Your mother, the queen, sent a messenger."
"Who is it?"
"He says his name is Breka."
Loki lays back and closes his eyes.
"He can wait."
Angrboda sits down on the edge of her bed and gives him a half smile.
"I adore the rebellious streak, but she isthe queen! Is it wise to make her messenger wait?"
Eyes still closed he says:
"If my mother—if Frigga sent him here then she gave him instructions to respect your threshold. He will wait."
She crawls back into bed.
"What exactly would he be waiting for?"
Loki pulls her close, running his hands over her skin.
"For us to finish our unfinished business."
"Do you want to—"
She gestures at the door.
"What, set up a spell?"
He shrugs.
"Like I said, he won't force his way in. And I don't mind him hearing us."
Scene 55
Loki gets up from Angrboda's bed. He hesitates briefly, but then he flicks his wrist and his Asgardian leathers shimmer into existence. When he steps out of the front door Breka pushes off the tree he's been leaning against. Before Breka can say anything Loki folds his arms across his chest.
"You're not welcome here."
"What?!"
"I mean it. This is Angrboda's house, and there's no place for you here."
"I just want to talk to you!"
"I have nothing to say to you. You were fun for a while. But all things end. You know my reputation. It's true. I don't care much for a life-time commitment."
Breka can't process what's happening. It doesn't make any sense. Did Loki find out about the assignment Uta had given him?
"All the things you said to me..."
Loki snorts.
"Just because I know how to talk a guy out of his armour doesn't mean it's eternal love."
Breka has to close his eyes for a moment. His voice is flat and toneless when he finally gets it to work.
"You really mean it."
"I do. Go back to the palace and find yourself someone else."
Breka forces himself to look at the man he loves. The man who just ripped his heart to shreds. Loki's eyes are hard and his face is guarded. Breka is unable to read him. Maybe he never read the prince correctly.
"So that's it."
Loki nods once. Breka squares his shoulders.
"I'm here on behalf of the queen. My orders are to bring you back. The golden throne is vacant, and the line of succession falls to you. What am I supposed to tell her?"
"I don't care. I'm not coming back. Tell her you couldn't find me. Or tell her I refused to come with you. I really couldn't care less."
It doesn't make any sense. Breka has never heard Loki speak of his mother any other way than with affection and respect. But it's very obvious that the discussion is over. So he takes one last look at Loki and leaves, confused and heartbroken. When he arrives at the palace he reports to the queen and disappears into the city to get well and truly drunk.