Chapter 14 : THE SLEEP OF KINGS
Three days passed.
Loki settled into the rhythm of regency with a dedication that surprised even himself. Morning training with Frigga. Midday council sessions. Afternoon audiences with petitioners and diplomats. Evening research in the archives. Sleep, when he could manage it, in the small hours before dawn.
The mana circulation was improving. Each session pushed a little further than the last—six minutes, then seven, then eight. His circuits remained inefficient, bleeding energy with every attempt, but the core itself was responding. Growing. Awakening to purpose.
"Your attunement is remarkable," Frigga said during their fourth session together. "I've never seen anyone take to ice magic so naturally."
Because I'm literally made for it. Frost Giant biology doing what Frost Giant biology does.
"Perhaps I simply had a good teacher."
"Flattery won't make me go easier on you." But she smiled, and the expression softened the exhaustion that had lined her face since Thor's banishment. "Try the crystallization exercise again. Slower this time. Feel the water in the air before you shape it."
He closed his eyes and reached inward. The mana core pulsed cold at his center—a sphere of potential that felt more real with each passing day. He drew energy from it, let it flow through his underdeveloped circuits, directed it outward toward the moisture that hung in the training chamber's air.
Feel it. Don't force it.
Ice formed. A small crystal, barely larger than his thumbnail, hovering above his palm. The structure was imperfect—cloudy rather than clear, edges ragged rather than precise. But it existed. He'd created matter from magic and willpower.
"Better." Frigga's voice carried genuine approval. "You're learning to listen to the cold instead of commanding it."
"Is there a difference?"
"All the difference in the world." She gestured, and a crystal of her own formed—perfect, clear as glass, edges sharp enough to cut. "Command magic and it will always resist, always cost more than it should. Listen to it, work with its nature, and it becomes an extension of yourself."
Like the Mana Core documentation said. Attunement provides efficiency bonuses. I'm working with my nature, not against it.
The crystal in his palm dissolved back into mist. He'd held it for maybe thirty seconds—a new record, but still far from combat-useful.
"You're pushing too hard," Frigga observed. "Your body needs time to adjust. Magic isn't a race."
"Isn't it?" He met her eyes. "Odin's Sleep won't last forever. Thor's exile might end any day. The threats I've been researching—"
"What threats?"
Careful. She doesn't know about Thanos. Doesn't know about Hela.
"General threats. The archives are full of warnings about cosmic-level dangers that Asgard might face. I want to be ready."
Frigga's expression shifted—concern mixing with something sharper. "You've been reading the restricted sections."
"I have regent access."
"Access doesn't mean wisdom." She stepped closer, her voice dropping. "Some of those records are restricted for reasons beyond security, Loki. Some knowledge carries weight that changes whoever learns it."
Too late. I already knew about Thanos. I already knew about Frigga's death. I've been carrying weight since I woke up in this body.
"I can handle the weight."
"Can you?" Her hand found his cheek—the same gesture she'd used a dozen times now, warm and grounding and full of a mother's worry. "You've changed so much since the coronation. Sometimes I wonder if you're still the son I raised, or someone else entirely."
The words cut closer to truth than she could know.
"I'm still me." The lie came easier than it should have. "Just... a better version. One who's finally ready to take responsibility."
"That's what concerns me." Her thumb traced his cheekbone. "Responsibility can be a burden that breaks people. I've seen it break your father. I've seen it nearly break Thor. I don't want to watch it break you too."
It won't break me. I've already been broken—dead in a car crash, reborn in a stranger's body. Everything after that is just adaptation.
"I'll be careful."
"Will you?" She released him, stepping back to create space. "The council meets in an hour. They're expecting answers about the darkness that approached Midgard. What will you tell them?"
Good question.
The council chamber was fuller than usual. Word of the unknown threat had spread despite his efforts to contain it—servants talked, guards gossiped, and information found its way to interested ears. Now every noble in Asgard wanted to know what the regent intended to do.
"The threat has retreated," Loki said, keeping his voice level and authoritative. "Heimdall's surveillance shows the entities withdrawing from Midgard's vicinity. Whatever their purpose, they chose not to engage once Thor evacuated from the hammer site."
"And what was their purpose?" Lord Tyr's voice carried suspicion that had become familiar. "Who sends darkness to hunt the crown prince?"
"Unknown. The entities were cloaked against Heimdall's sight—a feat requiring considerable magical resources. We're investigating."
"Investigating." General Váli made the word sound like an insult. "While unknown enemies probe our defenses and target our royalty, we investigate."
"Would you prefer I declare war on shadows?" Loki let an edge enter his tone. "Point me toward an enemy and I'll gladly authorize a strike. Until then, investigation is how we identify targets worth striking."
"Perhaps if we hadn't exiled our greatest warrior—"
"Thor was exiled by the All-Father's command. Take your grievances to Odin when he wakes." Loki stood, and something in his bearing made the entire room straighten. "Until then, I rule. And I rule through intelligence, preparation, and strategic patience. If that's insufficient for your tastes, you're welcome to petition for a different regent. I'd be happy to provide the forms."
Silence fell across the chamber.
Too aggressive? No. These people respect strength. If I show weakness, they'll tear me apart.
"Now." He sat back down. "Does anyone have constructive suggestions for identifying our mysterious observers? Or shall we continue complaining about circumstances none of us can change?"
Lady Sigyn cleared her throat. "The cloaking magic you describe—could it be Svartalfheim origin? The Dark Elves possessed such techniques before their... extinction."
The Dark Elves. Malekith. The creatures who kill Frigga in the original timeline.
"An interesting possibility." He kept his voice neutral despite the cold that ran through him. "I was under the impression the Dark Elves were destroyed in the war with Bor."
"Most of them. But there have been rumors over the centuries—ships seen in the darker reaches of space, energy signatures that matched their technology." Sigyn's eyes were sharp with old knowledge. "The House of Odin has always assumed the survivors would eventually return. Perhaps that day approaches."
The Aether. The Convergence. It's years away, but if the timeline is accelerating...
"Research it. Pull every record we have on Dark Elf capabilities, movements, potential survivors. Report to me personally."
"Yes, regent."
The meeting continued for another hour—mundane matters of governance that required attention even in crisis. Tax collection. Trade disputes. A minor territorial conflict between two noble houses. The machinery of empire grinding forward regardless of cosmic threats lurking in the darkness.
By the time the council adjourned, Loki head was pounding.
I need food. I need sleep. I need about a decade of preparation time that I definitely don't have.
A servant approached with a tray—fruit and cheese and bread, the same simple meal he'd eaten in the kitchens four days ago. He'd developed a preference for it, something his body could process without demanding too much attention.
"The Queen asks to see you when you're free," the servant said. "She's in the healing chambers."
Frigga. With Odin.
He ate while walking, cramming food into his mouth with a lack of dignity that would have horrified the original Loki. His stomach appreciated the fuel even as his mind raced ahead to whatever Frigga wanted to discuss.
The healing chambers were quiet at this hour—golden light filtering through crystals that monitored the sleepers' vital signs. Odin lay on the central bed, still and peaceful, his chest rising and falling in the slow rhythm of regenerative sleep.
Frigga sat beside him, holding his hand.
"You wanted to see me?"
"Sit." She didn't look up from Odin's face. "I have something to tell you."
He sat.
Note:
Please give good reviews and power stones itrings more people and more people means more chapters?
My Patreon is all about exploring 'What If' timelines, and you can get instant access to chapters far ahead of the public release.
Choose your journey:
Timeline Viewer ($6): Get 10 chapters of early access + 5 new chapters weekly.
Timeline Explorer ($9): Jump 15-20 chapters ahead of everyone.
Timeline Keeper ($15): Get Instant Access to chapters the moment I finish writing them. No more waiting.
Read the raw, unfiltered story as it unfolds. Your support makes this possible!
👉 Find it all at patreon.com/Whatif0