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Kit rejected protocol entirely by going outside to meet the car as it turned and stopped before the entrance. The back door opened, and Loki got out. He was taller than Kit, let his black hair grow long, and was wearing black skinny jeans, a grey t-shirt, and a black leather jacket. Not that Kit cared that his friend was so informally dressed, but he did have the moment's jealous thought that his father would never let him get away with that. Not that Loki and Laufey were very often in the same place at the same time, with Loki going off to be the enfant terrible of physics, so it was not as if Laufey had much control over his son.
Loki and Kit were both young crown princes, and most importantly they were the only two of their generation who understood what it was like to lose their mother-- Kit's to a car crash, and Loki's to cancer, within a few years of each other. That gave them a bond that nobody else had.
"I'm so glad you've come!" Kit embraced Loki, kissing both cheeks in his enthusiasm. Loki lifted a brow in dry amusement at the effusiveness, but Kit refused to be embarrassed. "Come in, come in. How long can you get away?"
Loki followed him up the staircase through the doors and into the private apartments. "From presentations that are either something we already know or so stupid I would probably hurt myself rolling my eyes that hard? You saved me."
Kit laughed. "So you have all afternoon? Stay for dinner?"
Loki considered, looking tempted, but shook his head. "I would like to, but I probably should put in an appearance at the banquet."
"Yes, you should," Kit agreed sternly, because Loki spent far too much time shirking his responsibilities and doing what he wanted, and Kit thought it was terribly inappropriate. He already had a job he should be doing.
Loki eyed him and said, "Dad, is that you?"
"Sorry, did that come off sounding too much like Laufey?" Kit chuckled. "I just meant since you're on the board you need to be there."
"I'll go, I'll go. Why is everyone in my life such an intolerable nag?" Loki sighed, disgruntled and seized two sugar biscuits off the tray to eat them as if he hadn't had any lunch.
"I won't answer that because I don't want you to be surly. It's been ages since we talked in person." He poured coffee at Loki's nod and handed it to him. "I wanted to thank you for getting the conference to come here."
Loki shrugged. "I didn't do anything."
Kit didn't believe that; it couldn't be a coincidence that the International Physics Society was having its annual conference here the first year Loki was on the board, but he let it go. "I have an ulterior motive, besides wanting you to visit," Kit started.
Loki feigned shock, free hand pressed to his chest. "You with an ulterior motive? What is the world coming to?"
Kit was tempted to throw a sugar cube at him, but dropped it in his coffee instead, and retorted, "We can't all abandon our responsibilities."
Loki rolled his eyes. "Did my father call yours lately to bitch about me? Is that what this is about? 'Stefan, how did you manage to raise such a good boy and obedient son? Why did Loki have to imitate that wastrel Thor instead of Christopher? Where did I go wrong?'" His plaintive, overdramatic voice made Kit smile even if he disapproved of the mockery.
"No, he didn't call. Not that I know of, anyway," he corrected, since he very plausibly could have, especially if Laufey knew Loki would be within Stefan's grasp soon. "That's not what I wanted to talk to you about."
Loki plucked a tart off the tray and waved it in invitation. "I'm listening."
Kit told him all about meeting the girl when he'd been riding out from the country manor, how he'd failed to find her, and then he'd thrown the ball to try to coax her out of hiding. The plan had worked, she'd come, but....
"It was the best night of my life," he told Loki. "She was so lovely, and I abandoned my own ball to talk to her. But then she ran – literally ran out the door at midnight."
Loki pursed his lips. "Well, it does sound as if she's leading you a merry chase."
Kit got the implication to that and sat up in offended indignation on her behalf. "No! She's not like that!"
"Kit, they're all like that."
"You're a cynic," Kit accused, "and if you don't watch out, you'll end up a bitter old man."
Loki didn't seem very distressed by that observation, giving a expressive shrug. "What do you want me to do about it, other than make sympathetic noises? You didn't even get her name. Which you didn't get because she didn't want you to have it. Because … she's playing games."
Kit glowered at him. "That's not how it was. I think there's something wrong. She ran like she was terrified of being late – not of being with me, not of being found out, but she didn't want to be caught. I want to help her if I can. And I need your help. You're smarter than I am, and maybe you can think of something I haven't."
His earnest face and compliment were well calculated to be hard to resist, and Loki was not immune. He muttered something under his breath. "She's a clever player, that's all."
"You would know she wasn't, if you met her," Kit insisted. "And you're not going to meet her unless you help me find her."
Loki groaned. "Okay, I give in. Tell me again, less starry-eyed, more facts." Loki put his coffee cup on the table and leaned forward to listen to Kit's tale again, interrogating him like a police detective might about all the details. Those eyes like pale northern glaciers glinted with prodigious intelligence; it was not empty flattery saying he was smarter. Kit was no dummy, but he knew he wasn't in Loki's class, so he hoped Loki would have an idea what to do.
When Loki had all the details, including some Kit hadn't realized he knew, he leaned back in the armchair, crossed his legs the other way, and nibbled another biscuit while he stared at the shoe. Kit had brought it for him to look at and told him the fruit of his own research on it.
"Well?" Kit prompted.
Loki's gaze wandered to the portrait of some great-something-grandfather on the wall then came back. "She lives near the manor, clearly."
"I looked all around," Kit protested.
Loki held up a hand to quiet him and continue his summary, "And if you're right that she truly didn't know you that first meeting, she doesn't have or doesn't watch television or read gossip magazines, because she should have recognized you. I don't expect half the people in Jotunheim to recognize me, but you, my friend, are a media whore." Kit stiffened in outrage, because it was not his fault the paparazzi were all over him. But Loki paid no attention, continuing, "Also, she was dressed poorly for her ride--"
"Simply," Kit corrected.
"Poorly," Loki insisted. "Old and worn. And she came to the ball dressed in a ball gown that was spectacular but hardly new fashion. And she left behind a Cartier diamond shoe from the 60's."
Loki lifted it up to examine it again. It was a silver satin slipper, faded with age but in good condition, with a glass heel, and a bow made of small diamonds. "Hideous," Loki said, "but I imagine the pair would be quite valuable to a collector."
"I was thinking I announce that the person who has the other shoe can present it to the gate for an audience? And I'll buy it from them?"
Loki snorted. "Don't be stupid, Christopher. That'll never work. If the girl's being abused somewhere, nobody gave her the shoes. She probably stole them and she would never dare to come forward. Worse, you might expose the fact that she was at the ball at all, if she wasn't supposed to be there." He set the shoe on the side table and tapped the heel. "No, this will eventually prove her identity, but not yet. You can hide shoes, you can hide a girl, but you know what you can't hide? A horse, and a place to put it."
Kit frowned. "How does that help?"
"Do you remember what the horse looked like?"
"Sure." Kit started uncertainly. He didn't get what Loki's plan was meant to be. "But I can't go field-to-field and look for it."
Loki's look made Kit feel stupid. "Of course not. You get the Agriculture ministry to announce there's been a case of equine flu or whatever horse disease is plausible, and all horses need to be examined. You announce it for the whole country of course, but you start near the manor. You have your inspectors take photos as they test, you look at the photos and find the horse, and then you find where your mystery girl lives."
Kit rose to his feet to think about that. "You're telling me to lie."
"Do you want to find her or not?" Loki countered, arching his brows. "That's how I would find her, if I were you. But I'm the black sheep of Jotunheim, not the golden prince of Aurentia, so what do I know?" He leaned back in the chair, stretching out his legs, and reached for his coffee. "I suppose you could announce you found a fancy shoe at the ball and whoever fits the shoe is the girl you're going to marry."
That echoed a little too closely to the plan Kit had originally conceived and the mockery made his tone sharper than he meant. "Oh, shut up. You know you're right, no need to rub it in."
"I can't believe you don't have a name or a picture," Loki shook his head at Kit. "Weren't there cameras at arrival?"
"There were, but she came late and ran through. Nobody snapped anything useful."
"Amazing. It's like she didn't want you to know who she is," Loki observed dryly.
Kit pointed at him, narrowing his eyes into a fierce glower, "I cannot wait until you fall in love. Because all your brains aren't going to do you a whisker of good. You won't know what hit you and it will be hilarious."
Loki scoffed. "Nothing can possibly be as funny as you falling for a girl you've known for, what, three hours? One who ran away from you no less."
Kit would've objected, but put like that, it did sound stupid. "You don't understand," he said finally. "She was... she was amazing. Beautiful, but more than that, she seemed full of goodness. She was genuinely good, and that seems so rare..." he trailed off, not knowing how else to try to explain.
It seemed enough to drown Loki's cynicism, as he rose to his feet and gripped Kit's shoulder. "Then I do hope you find her, Kit," he said. "I'm just teasing, you know."
"It would help not to be alone," Kit said, voice softer, as he found the courage to begin to talk about the other thing he was glad to have his friend here for. "Father... Father's dying, Loki. He's not expected to live out the month."
"Oh, my God, Kit. That's... terrible. I am so sorry."
Kit turned away from his sympathetic eyes, thinking that it might just break him. He forced a bit of a laugh. "So between you, me, and Thor, I guess I win the crown first."
"That's a race none of us wanted to win," Loki murmured. "I can stay after the conference. I don't want to be a distraction, but if it would help to have a friend with you?"
"That's very kind of you to offer," Kit said with automatic politeness. "But I wouldn't want to keep you from your work."
"Oh, screw that. That's what Skype is for."
But Loki's willingness to stay made Kit feel guilty, and he shook his head. "No, I appreciate it, but it's not necessary. Which isn't to say I don't want you to come when--" His voice choked, and he had to pause before he could finish, "– when it happens. And of course you will be invited to the coronation and you better not skip out on me," he warned, trying to joke, but it came out a little teary.
"Never," Loki promised. "I wouldn't miss it."
"Then, why don't you come with me, and you can greet Father." He couldn't quite say 'to pay your final respects' but that was what he meant, since it was unlikely Loki would see him again.
"Very well. He's going to lecture me," Loki sighed.
"You deserve it," Kit retorted, glad for the levity. "You are a feckless reprobate."
"Oh, did you just finish reading Pride and Prejudice?" Loki teased. "'Feckless reprobate'. Hm, I like the sound of that."
"You would." Kit shook his head in despair. "Come on. This way."
The humor died away as they reached the king's drawing room, where he was resting in his favorite arm chair, perhaps reading, but mostly looking out the tall windows to the garden and city beyond.
He looked up. "Christopher, come in." He lifted one hand a little to wave his son in. "And Loki of Jotunheim. What a pleasant surprise."
Loki bowed his head. "Your Grace. Good afternoon."
"Papa, he's here for the physics conference in town," Kit reminded his father.
"Ah yes, your... hobby."
Loki tightened his mouth as if he wanted to retort, but otherwise merely answered, "Yes."
He was dying, but Stefan's eyes were fine and caught the desire to object. "If you will indulge me, Loki? Both of you, sit." When the two younger men were seated, he looked at Loki. "It is a hobby," he said again. "I don't mean to disparage your interests, and I know you're young and bright, and you think all of this--" he waved his hand toward the ornate sideboard, the satin wallpaper, to the long, brocade draperies framing the windows, "is a waste of your intelligence. But your father, like me, is getting old, and he, like me, has only one son to help him. The crown is heavy, my boy, even if it is not what it was in old days. Your father will need you, maybe not tomorrow, but soon. In the end, your duty to your country will take, and must take, precedence. But you're clever; you already know this. So why do you pretend that you have no duty at all?"
Loki didn't answer at first. He listened, gaze cast down, and Kit knew he was thinking about what Stefan said. Loki brought his hands up to his forehead, clasped together, almost in an attitude of prayer, then he looked up again and dampened his lips with his tongue. "I know what my duty is. But what you don't know is... I have a duty to humanity as well." Kit frowned at him curiously, having no idea what he was talking about. Loki glanced at him, but focused his attention on Stefan. "I found... well, it's a secret, but you two can know about it. I discovered a way to access nearly unlimited energy in other dimensions. If it works, and it will work, it's going to change the world."
"Is this true?" Stefan demanded, looking to Kit for confirmation, but Kit had none.
"What do you mean?" Kit asked.
"Free energy," Loki said. "Just think: No fossil fuels, no radioactive byproduct, no carbon emissions, more efficient and compact than most natural processes; just a tiny portal to another dimension providing energy to homes, vehicles, factories... everything."
Stefan's eyebrows arched high in disbelief and wonder. "This... sounds too good to be true."
"So far it is," Loki admitted. "After the conference, the team is going to start building the prototype in America. But I ran the experiment at CERN last year to test dimensional breaching, and it's sound. I'm going to make it work."
The king's eyes went up to the chandelier, which Kit knew had once been for candles before being wired for electric lights. Stefan smiled and reached out for Kit's hand to grasp it. Kit tried not to show how dismayed he was by the shaking and thinness of that hand, grasping it gently.
"So, my boy will see the next great transition to the future," Stefan said. "I'm glad. Thank you for telling me."
"And thank you for offering me wise advice," Loki said.
"Even when you never take it?" Stefan asked, blue eyes twinkling with humor despite his weakness.
"Well, I don't take anyone's, so don't feel bad," Loki returned lightly. He took hold of the king's other hand to press it gently. "I give you my word I'll help Kit as much as I can. He won't be alone."
Stefan curled his fingers around Loki's. "Thank you. You ease my heart."
"Good. Now, if you will excuse me, I should take my leave. I have an excruciatingly dull conference I must attend."
"I'll walk you out," Kit offered and kissed his father on the cheek. "I'll be back in a little while."
They left and in the hall, Loki's steps paused, so Kit nearly left him behind. "Loki?" he turned back, to see a flash of some upset tightness in his face. "Are you all right?"
The expression passed and he smiled at Kit, a polite empty smile. Because Loki might disdain his training, but he was trained, and he knew how to offer social niceties, no matter how meaningless. "Of course. It was nothing."
Kit just looked at him, waiting. Since that had definitely been something.
Loki shook his head, and then looked down a bit shame-faced. "Sorry. I was just – he reminded me of my mother. It's a... I know it's a rough time. To watch them... decline. I... well, you have my sympathies."
He was anything but a feckless reprobate in that moment. He was genuine in his words, not speaking polite words because he should.
Kit nodded, swallowing. "I know. And I'm glad you're here. It's good to be with someone who understands."
"I do." Loki gripped his shoulder warmly, and for a moment, Kit was tempted to turn into him and let out the flood of tears that threatened every time he thought about his father leaving him alone.
But he didn't. He sniffed and raised his chin, because this was a time he had to be strong. "Do you really have to go?" he asked, disappointed. "I thought we had some more time."
"I can stay a bit, but if you want to tend your father..."
"No, he'll be going to bed soon. I'll see him this evening."
Loki stayed more than 'a bit', with an agenda that soon became clear of trying to take Kit's mind off things. He urged Kit to play table tennis, knowing full well that he was a monster at it and Kit was terrible. Instead of hurting his feelings, it became hilarious how mis-matched they were. Kit drank wine and got even worse at the game, before he insisted on changing to video games and then, tipsy or not, got his revenge at Mario Kart.
Then he looked at the mantel and it was six o'clock. He was half-drunk, and his friend was supposed to go to a banquet. Surely not even Loki would show up to a banquet in jeans and a t-shirt. Well, he might, but Kit shouldn't encourage that sort of thing, so he needed to tell Loki to change.
But it had been a great afternoon, and he was profoundly grateful to Loki for listening to him and hanging out with him. He hung an arm around Loki's shoulders a bit too long and sniffed with an alcohol-induced sentimentality, "I'll miss you. Don't be such a stranger."
Loki patted his back. "You'll be all right, Kit. Call me if you need to talk, and I'll see you soon."
Kit waved, feeling a bit forlorn, as the car pulled out of the gate. He watched it depart and still didn't move until Captain Nonso moved up to his side.
"Your Highness?" he asked carefully. "Are you well?"
Kit sighed. "Everything turns so dull once he leaves." He didn't let the guard captain respond, and instead turned to him. "But he had an idea of how to find the ball's mystery girl."
Nonso's eyes brightened with enthusiasm. Kit was very glad to have a co-conspirator in this plan. "Oh? A scheme, sir?"
"Find the horse," Kit instructed and Nonso's face lit with a sudden grin of understanding.
"Oh yes, of course."
"Because... you can hide a lot of things, but not a horse," Kit told him, wanting to make sure Nonso understood. "Find the horse, find her. I have to find her."
"We will, sir," Nonso promised. He guided Kit back inside, and Kit was proud of not stumbling once even if the ground did seem more bumpy than it should be.
Tomorrow, Kit would start the search. Perhaps soon they'd find his mystery girl with the wonderful eyes and the beautiful heart, and perhaps then, Kit would not be quite so lonely anymore.