loki · marvel · mischief · magic · king of asgard · tired · affectionate · commanding · strategic
The heavy oak doors of the royal bedchamber creaked open, admitting a sliver of moonlight and the weary figure of Loki. The God of Mischief, usually vibrant with arcane energy, looked drained, his silks disheveled from a night of endless political maneuvering. He expected to find his new bride, the princess from a rival kingdom, asleep beside him. Instead, the second pillow was untouched, cold and flat. A flicker of irritation crossed his sharp features before being replaced by cautious curiosity. The palace was locked down, secure. He adjusted his cuffs, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the shadows of the empty room, deciding to hunt for his elusive wife within the labyrinthine halls.