A Simple Truth by Admiral at the Bow of Nails
Disclaimer: No one owns Loki; he’s just a hot pain in my sass. No one owns Thor or Frigg. I don’t own Marvel, Viacom, or Berhert. Mythological similarities are mostly coincidental.
A/N: Part 5 of the Sigyn Timeline of the Duchess Series, (find masterlist here)! Still looking for a beta for future chapters, so if you’re interested, hit me up
Series Warnings: Loki/fem!reader. Reader has nickname and backstory but no physical description. Language; panty theft, masturbation, cunnilingus, fingering, public nudity; drinking; seismophobia. Warnings will be added as the series goes on. I’m considering adding additional pairings with other characters. Let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in.
Series Summary: This series begins during Thor (2011) and generally follows along that plot. After Loki’s visit to the SHIELD encampment, the timeline branches
Timeline Warnings: Pregnancy, torture, Odin being his usual shitty self, violence toward/gruesome death of children, character death, imprisonment, fluff, smut, vaginal intercourse (m/f), public sex
Timeline Summary: This timeline follows the Sacred Timeline through the end of Thor (2011), at which point you’re stranded on Asgard until the end of Avengers/beginning of Dark World
Chapter Summary: You inform the Queen of her son's safety and discover a new source of information
Shelby arrives with your breakfast and pulls back the drapes while you begin to eat. The bright morning rays seem to dance through the doors of your balcony, rejoicing with the news that Loki is alive.
You jump out of bed; you must tell the Queen immediately. “Shelby, could you find a dress for me? Something that won’t be too much trouble to put on? I need to see the Queen urgently.”
“Yes, M’lady,” she starts shifting through the closet as you impatiently drag a brush through your hair. You’re tying up your shoes up as she returns with a sark and dress for you to change into. You pull them both over your head and she offers your kransen to position on your head while she pins broaches along your sternum.
As soon as you’re dressed, you begin your search for the Queen. You find Frig leaving her chambers, a few of her ladies in waiting at her side. “Your Majesty,” you give a rushed curtsy. “Might we speak privately?”
“Of course,” she dismisses her ladies with a nod and leads you into her receiving chamber.
“I, um,” you hesitate before deciding to just be out with it. “Loki is alive.”
She doesn’t seem particularly surprised at the news, though she smiles and thanks you warmly. “Where is he hiding?”
“He was on Berhert last night, but I doubt he’s planning on staying there much longer, or that he’s even there now. He said something about finding his own way.”
She nods. “So he’s moping,” she’s almost amused. You shift uncomfortably. “I take it he has no plans to come home at this point?”
“Uh, no.” This was not at all the reaction you expected.
“Loki’s always been a tad dramatic,” she responds to your perplexed look. “As I’m sure you’re well aware.
“While I was certainly concerned when he fell, we don’t know much about the abyss, and he hardly lacks in survival skills. Thank you for letting me know he’s safe.” She squeezes your hand as her smile brightens.
“Have you had a chance to practice your magic?” she asks as though it’s not a drastic change of subject.
“I have not,” you realize you left the seed on your bedstand in your excitement. “I think I’ll go work on that now,” you excuse yourself with a curtsey, making your way back to your rooms.
You’re not sure how long you’ve sat on your balcony with the seed, but by the time you relent to frustration, it feels like forever. You’ve talked to it, pled with it, even dipped it in a goblet of water when you remembered Sif’s advice. Nothing’s helped, and feeling defeated, you return it to its tiny bottle.
You glance at the embroidery you’ve started, tossed haphazardly on your armchair, but you entirely lack inspiration toward it. You scan your bookshelves listlessly and decide to wander down to the library for something new.
As you exit your chambers, the door across from yours catches your attention. Loki’s door. You’ve never been in his rooms. It didn’t seem appropriate to disturb them when you thought he was dead. Now it feels more like snooping. Though logically, if he were still on world, you would likely be spending as much time in his bed as you do your own. ‘It wouldn’t be entirely inappropriate…’ you reason with yourself as you chance a guilty look down the hall before quickly letting yourself in.
When you’ve quietly shut the door, the only light is the noontime sun peeking from behind dark curtains. You carefully pull one aside, its thick, emerald velvet releasing a cloud of dust.
You turn to examine the room. It’s been left entirely untouched since Loki’s tenure on the throne. The desk is strewn with official-looking papers. A candelabra, its charges half-spent, stands above them, waiting patiently for the King’s return. A haphazard stack of books sits on the bedside table, their titles displaying their reader’s dire need to retain his hold on the monarchy; to rule justly. To rule well.
You wander to the bookshelf, browsing the titles there. Those he found interesting, as opposed to necessary. While there is plenty of variety, his collection of astronomy books is particularly impressive.
Your brow furrows when you find The Unabridged Verse of Riste between Moons of the Nine Realms and Stars Beyond the Known Worlds. You reach for the book of poetry and find it difficult to jar from its spot. You kneel before the bookshelf to get a better grip, tugging at it until you hear a creak to your right.
The whole desk has shifted, as has the wall behind it, to reveal a dark passageway. You near it cautiously, then cull through the drawers of the desk until you find a black stone and a steel serpent. You take them with the candelabra to the hearth and strike the flint against the serpent until a spark catches the first wick so you can light the others.
The passage is cool, untouched by the summer heat, and smells staler than the room you’d just left. You expected some secret tunnel, perhaps to another realm, but it’s little more than a library. Amusement and adoration tinge your curiosity; he has a secret room, and he chooses to hide more books in it.
You lift the candles to read the spines. All the books are bound in black leather, their titles embossed in gold runes. There must be around a thousand of them. You pull one off a shelf, opening it to find runes scratched in ink over lined pages. It looked as though a child had written them.
As you reexamine the shelves, it dawns on you that a child likely had written them. That these must be Loki’s journals.
You chew your lip, mulling the thought. It’s undoubtedly an invasion of privacy…but then you’ve already done that by entering his chambers. It’s not as though he’s very forthcoming, even when he’s around. Not to mention you could probably research much of the same information by googling the Eddur if you were home. Given you aren’t, you’re simply using the resources at your disposal to the best of your ability.
Figuring it’s best to start at the beginning, you replace the volume you’d first opened and instead take the one on the far left of the top shelf. You made your way back to the outer chamber and returned everything to the way you found it, before returning to your own rooms to stow your loot beneath your pillow.
After lunch in the grand dining hall, where you do your best to follow along with the conversation, you swiftly make your way to the library and select an Old Norse to English dictionary. Back in your chambers, you pull out quill, parchment, and an ink well, open the dictionary and journal on your desk, and start to slowly translate.
2 Days Past First Quarter Moon, Harpa, 330 Winters Past Victory Over Jötunheimr
Mother gave me this journal today. She says I should use it to practice my runes and record my thoughts and activities.
For something so short and simple, it took a surprisingly long time. Admittedly, his spelling had its flaws, as any child’s would, which made the translation more complicated.
2 Days Past New Moon, Skerpla, 330 Winters Past Victory Over Jötunheimr
I’ve been practicing my shapeshifting. Mother says I have a talent for it. Father did not care. He says changing into a Midgardian, even one of a different gender, is nothing special. I haven’t seen him shapeshift into ANYTHING. I don’t think he even can. So there.
