"So what did you come here for? I keep saying this and I'll reiterate, you know that we cannot be seen together." Loki continued to swirl the liquid that turned sane men crazy in his cup. He still made no attempt to drink it.
"You're not even going to take a sip?" Ares asked.
"Not a drop" Loki replied, still swirling the ale.
"You sure are one weird Asgardian. I reckon you're the only Asgardian who doesn't take any alcohol. Yet you are more insane than them all. Maybe it is a good thing you have this habit. You say it makes the sane man insane, don't you? I fear that if you ever got drunk, your insanity would be beyond us all."
Loki smirked at Ares's words. "Now why don't you stop stalling for time and tell me why you are here? You have no idea how to cast the illusion leash. It's dangerous for you to be here."
"It isn't called leash anymore. Apparently, it's called magic now. Get in with the times Loki." Ares laughed boisterously.
"I refuse to call it by a name that was given by brats who weren't even around when it was first discovered." Loki snorted in disgust. His words would have startled anyone. The term 'leash' had been abandoned for millions of years now. Those who changed its name were long dead. For Loki to call them brats, how long had he lived?
"It is funny really. I always pictured the god of mischief as one with an easy going personality. Yet all your rules and habits are anything but that. Maybe behind the web of lies are honesty and truth." Ares solemnly stated.
"Honesty? Truth? How do you know if my rules aren't just lies to conceal what I really am? How can one discern my thoughts when they aren't sure of what I even think?" Loki smirked as he replied.
"Indeed. We have been working together for years now. For beings like us those years are fleeting and insignificant. Yet it is still enough to understand a few things about a man. Yet I still know nothing. I mean, see where we are? Gods sitting in a mortal tavern. And another engaged to a mortal. What kind of man does all this for a bit of intel?" Ares questioned.
"I'm no man- I'm Asgardian." Loki's answer was just as casual as it always was.
"Yes. And an expert of illusions. I almost didn't recognise you when I stepped in here. It was only from your aura could I tell that you were the one whom I sought. Why leave your aura discernible?" Ares curiously asked.
"You really are a blockhead, aren't you? You claim you are smart but I know kids smarter." Loki derided mercilessly. Ares showed no reaction to his derision though. He sat patiently, waiting for an answer.
"You have grown patient over the years. Very much unlike the god I once knew. He who killed off an entire race a million years ago because a 'peasant' mistakenly stepped on his foot." Loki said in a relaxed tone.
"A million years can change anyone" Ares's response was calm.
"I need them to know where I am. If not, they would send an observer after me. After all, no one wants the god of lies to act freely." Loki finally answered. Ares nodded in understanding.
"They are right to fear you. Your antics over the past millennia are even greater than mine. And all accomplished with tricks and strategy alone. You hardly had to act yourself." Ares chuckled when reminiscing the 'old times'.
"That is why it is dangerous for you to be here. You think you are safe just because your aura's concealed?" Loki mocked.
"No, I am not. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't of any importance." Ares chucked down an entire mug of ale after speaking.
"So are you finally going to tell me why you are here?" Loki asked. "I wouldn't ask again, Olympian god of war" he continued.
Ares smiled as he leaned closer to the god who was feared by all for his brilliance. "The boy. I finally know where he is. And it is a place where we have a bit of influence."
"Now that is news. You did come here for a good reason after all. Such knowledge is worthy of a toast." Loki's smile was broad. He ignored his rules as he smashed his cup against Ares', spilling ale all over the floor and the table. Little matter though, he was too happy to care about the fact that he was the one in charge of cleaning in the bar.
"My King, all the rebels have been dealt with." In a vast hall that was lit dimly, a few figures knelt before a throne. The throne was pitch black, yet its colour only served to promote its beauty. The dark throne wasn't empty. Someone was seated on it. With hair as black as the throne itself and even darker eyes, the King sat absentmindedly on the throne. Her fair complexion served as the greatest source of light in the gloomy darkness of the hall. It seemed as though she hadn't heard the words of the subordinates who knelt below her throne. Yet her subjects did nothing to shake her out of her reverie, choosing to wait patiently for her short slumber to end.
Finally, she opened her crimson lips to speak, her voice sounding strained yet pleasant still. "I see. What about the citizens. How are my people handling the change?" Her voice was full of concern. She obviously placed a lot of importance on the present issue.
"Elation, My King" one of them replied. His head remained bowed and his knees bent.
"Oh? No matter what, Usurper or not, he was still king for over a decade now. Do they feel nothing for him?" The words of her subordinate drew her attention.
"He was nothing but a false king, My King. The people feel the same." The only male figure who had remained silent all this while spoke up. Although he didn't say much, the intelligent King knew what he meant. She had heard a lot about the False King's reign. He was a cruel man who did whatever he wanted without showing any concern for his people. The only ones who benefitted from his rule were the nobles. Those greedy bastards had insatiable appetites and were only content once their hunger was sated. This helped him hold on to his power. Once the nobles were happy, the False King knew his throne was safe. As for the commoners, he cared little for them. Unfortunately, his lack of concern had driven them into the open and generous arms of the one true king.
"He was a fool. No empire is ruled by the nobles. An empire belongs to the people. The nobles are just caretakers. It is no wonder that he was never acknowledged by the Eternal Throne." The only woman amongst those kneeling was blunt with her words. She showed no respect for the former monarch who had passed on, his remains serving as fertilizer for the soil underneath the castle. And why would she? As long as she was concerned, the fool was let of easy. Death was but a relief for him.
"He is dead. Let it go. Stand, all of you, and get back to work. The rebuilding of the strongest empire has just begun." The King got up from her throne as she spoke. Her action was emulated by her followers.
But not before they hailed loudly in unison, "Glory to the Eternal Monarch."