Cecelia strutted through the forest, savoring the tightness of her bodice and highness of her shoes. Her heels raised her above the rest of the world, and forced a certain elegant straightness into her step.
Around her thin ankles swished the fullness of her white skirts, covered across with intricate golden designs and symbols. These became more concentrated the near her waist. The bodice of her dress was trimmed with lace, and folded smoothly into curve across her chest. Her pale pink lips had been enhanced by copious amounts of red stain, and her entire face shinned with the fullest extent nobility makeup had to offer.
Her blonde hair had been woven through with strands of gold, and curled into such tight curls that they scarcely quivered as she bobbed her way down the path.
Her eyes had been lined with dark charcoal and sprinkled with fine gold dust. These additions slightly dulled her bright green pupils, but they could still be seen clearly under her glossy lashes. In her hand she clutched a soft leather purse, which was embroidered with gold floss, woven in the designs of ancient cultures. Her entire essence stated nobility and rank.
Any passerby who saw her would have assumed that she was on her way to a fancy party, perhaps a ball fit for a king or a dance fashioned by the gods themselves. Cecelia, however, had done herself up in such a manner simply to be allowed this walk through the forest. Although she carried herself with nothing less of the grace of highest nobility, she still seemed to be exhibiting some highly strange habits no noble would ever partake in.
"Why good evening Reginald," she greeted a bolder laying along the side of her path. "I really am so glad you could make it. We must talk more later, but you need to excuse me now, as I need to greet our guest of honor."
And moving away from the bolder, she continued along her path until she reached a high tree, which was growing onto the trail, reaching its roots across the path.
Stooping into a perfect curtsy, Cecelia bowed her head to the tree. "Why hello your majesty, I am so very glad you could attend. Are you enjoying the party?" The girl then inclined her head to the tree, as though expecting an answer. None came, of course; at least none that anyone else could hear. Cecelia's face, however, lit up in happiness at some news only she could hear, and she excitedly exclaimed, "Why I am so very happy to hear that! Enjoy the rest of the night, if you will."
And dropping into a quick curtsy once again, Cecelia continued on her way. As she made her way past a bush, the leaves began to shake ferociously, and a squirrel popped out from between the branches right into her path, clutching an acorn in its tiny claws.
"Why our guest of honor has finally arrived!" exclaimed Cecelia happily to the extremely confused squirrel. "I am so happy you were able to make time for us. I understand your nut collecting had kept you very busy this year. I am sure our abundance of refreshment and conversation will give you some time to put your mind at ease." And she sank into her deepest, and perhaps most ridiculously intended curtsey yet.
The squirrel, now thoroughly alarmed, secured its nut only tighter in its grasp before bounding across the path for an opposite tree, scurrying quickly up the branches.
Cecelia watched it go with a smile on her face.
Once the wild creature was completely out of sight, Cecelia turned around to the rest of her forest. "Just because our guest of honor his had to scurry off doesn't mean we need to let the festivities come to an end," she assured her other forest guests.
Approaching a nearby Willow, Cecelia sunk into a dramatic bow and raised her hand questioningly. "Would you care to dance with me, fair Willow? The band is about to play my favorite song."
Cecelia grasped the Willows' delicate branches and begin to sway back and forth with the tree, as though she truly believed it be an adequate dancing partner. Soon, however, the static Willow could not keep up with Cecelia's own movements, and she began to move away from tree. She twirled alone with her eyes closed, moving in perfect rhythm with an imaginary partner.
Cecelia's high heeled shoes crunched across the dead leaves in the path, and her hair fluttered behind her in the delicate breeze blowing through the trees as she swayed and twirled. She gently complimented her partner, and inquired about how his business was faring. So engrossed was she with her imaginary company, that she did not notice when another, quite real figure, came up behind her from the clearing.
"The two of you have found quite a rhythm together," said a mysterious and curious voice. "You must let me know where you studied together."
Cecilia spun on the spot, her relaxed demeanor dropping in a second.
"Who are you?" she asked in an accusatory tone, far from the delicate murmur she has been using with her imaginary guests.
"How is it that every other object in your path gets a curtsy and a polite greeting, but I get shouted at?" inquired the man in a mockingly hurt voice.
Cecelia narrowed her eyes at the stranger. He was tall and thin, but fairly well built. He wore a dark green leather tunic, accompanied with black pants and boots. He had long dark hair, which was swept back from his pale face. The darkness of his apparel only seemed to greater highlight his green eyes, which stood out like a tropical bird amongst flock of city pigeons. Cecelia took a deep breath as she cast a gaze into those eyes. They seemed to mimic sparkling emeralds, and they reminded her of her own. Never had she met someone with such eyes filled with curious mischief. They held a sense of adventure that frightened and excited her at the same time.
"What are you doing here?" She asked, in a slightly softer tone.
The man rolled his eyes, as though her question was a mundane inquiry far below him. "Walking. Just like you. Surely I have just as much right to be here as you. Perhaps even talk to a few boulders if I feel like it."
"You're mocking me."
"Goodness no, although I am curious as to why such a beautiful figure as yourself would feel the need to socialize with rocks and trees in their free time."
Cecelia continued to watch the man suspiciously. When she did not answer, he continued to speak.
"There are only two reasons I can think of. One, you are completely mad and out of your mind, which I really hope is not the case. Two, you have simply given up finding real people worth spending time with in this vicious world and so have resorted to creating your own social counterparts. I do dearly hope it is the latter."
"Well you sure have a dour view of the world."
He laughed. Cecelia nearly stepped back at the sound. It was such a pleasant laugh, she wouldn't have expected such a joyous sound to usher from one with such an unpleasant look fixed on his face.
"You would rather me be displeased with the world and all company I find in it then to be crazy? I would think both to be an equal descent into despair."
"Well now who's sounding all dour?" The mysterious man smiled at her. "But if it is neither, then why do you do it?"
Cecelia sighed. He seemed like a nice boy. Perhaps he could be trusted with a fragment of the truth. That would be all she would trust him with, of course.
"I just do not have as much time as I would like to spend with people whose company I enjoy," said Cecelia sadly, gazing back into the forest. "When I come out into nature to contemplate my situation I imagine the relationships I could have, and I suppose sometimes I get a bit carried away."
"Well then, my guess was right was it not? You have realized the ridiculousness of the people in this world and that none of them can be much better company then a rock." His eyes held a hint of despondency with his retort.
"No, it is not!" exclaimed Cecelia. "I do not think everyone in the world is a poor company; I just don't seem to be able to meet enough interesting people for my fancy. That's all."
The man smiled even more broadly at her words. He reached out his hand.
"Well in that case, I would like to introduce myself. I am Loki, and I would be honored if you give me the chance to prove to you that I am one of the few in this universe you should be spending your time with."
Cecelia nearly laughed. "You would still try to learn more about me after viewing my craziness? Are you not worried I might be even stranger the more you learn?"
"Well then I suppose that is something I will have to find out as I get to know you better." He did not retract his hand, but instead held it higher, beckoning to her.
Cecelia smiled and reached her hand out to grasp his. With a firm tug he pulled her closer to himself, closing the distance between them in one fluid movement.
"Ooh," exclaimed Cecelia, surprised. Placing his other hand on her waist, he began to dance, matching his steps to the dance she had been doing previously with the willow tree.
"You dance very well," complimented Cecelia, falling into rhythm with him.
"Almost as well as your willow friend?"
"I must admit that your ability is an even match; you are, however, a much better companion for conversation."
Loki acknowledged her comment with a smile, spinning her out away from him in a delicate arc, and catching her perfectly as she spun back towards him.
"So you know why I have come here," she continued. "May I ask what brings you out here to the secluded woods? Here too—how did you put it?— avoid 'spending time with the useless people in this vicious world'?"
Loki laughed lightly. "I must admit the secluded feeling of the forest calls to me often. I come here to seek companionship in the peacefulness. The woods often grant me many majestic wonders to distract me from my troubles. None of them have ever been this beautiful, however." And he winked at her. Cecelia ducked her head slightly to hide her blush. When she lifted it again, Loki was still watching her. She coughed and turned her head to the side, pretending to focus on the rhythm of the dance they were creating.
"So you come to this part in nature often?" she inquired, trying to ignore his gaze.
"Not this particular forest, but others. Where I live, there is a huge garden I often walk in with many paths into the forest. I had never wondered quite this deep before."
"I come here when I truly want to be sure I am alone. No one is here but the woodland creatures and the friends one imagines."
"Sounds like an excellent location to host an elegant soireé. I must say you are quite the woodland host." Cecelia caught an air of mockery in his voice, but she choose to ignore it.
"I absolutely adore parties is all. When I was younger, my father and I used to attend a dance nearly every week. Sometimes they would be elegant dinners, other times they would be balls. I grew to love the lights, and the food, and of course the dancing!"
"Whenever I throw my next party, I will be sure to invite both you and your father. You must come and save me from the dull company my family usually invites."
"That is very kind of you, Loki." Cecelia smiled at him. She decided not to correct him about her father; the more of identity that remained shrouded, the better.
"Well you know my name now, but I am lost to know yours. Would you do me the honor of enlightening me as to who I am sharing this dance with?"
Cecelia hesitated a moment. "Cela" she blurted after a moment.
"Cela?" Loki mused. "That is quite an interesting name."
"My father choose it," she said quickly, ducking under his arm and spinning so that her skirts flew out about her legs. "He wanted me to have a name unlike any other."
"Well, he certainly achieved that. I do like it." Loki's smile told her he liked something more about her besides her name.
The two of them continued their dance for a few more steps, swaying peacefully in silence amongst the trees. Cecelia was completely enamored with Loki. He seemed so sure of his steps in a dance they were making up together. Everything about their forest path seemed magical.
An evening loon called in the distance. Quickly, Cecelia shook herself out of her happy stupor. She had duties to attend to.
"I must be going," she said quickly, stepping out of the magical dance. "People will begin to wonder where I am."
"Of course," nodded Loki. "Thank-you for such a delightful dance." He bowed deeply to her, and she curtseyed gracefully.
"It was an honor." She said, smiling. "You have outshined every dance partner I have ever met in these woods."
"That is a title I will hold onto dearly," laughed Loki.
Cecelia turned and began to make her way down the path. It was not until she was out of range of hearing that something occurred to Loki.
"Wait!" he called quickly. "Can we meet again?"
Cecelia did not turn back, however, as she could not hear him.
Smiling to himself, he turned and began to make his way back where he had come. As he passed the willow tree Cecelia had been first dancing with, he saw a leather purse sitting at the base. Quickly stooping to pick it up, Loki saw that is was embroidered with the golden symbols of Asgardian nobility.
"Wait!" he called again, turning around. "Cela, I have your purse!" But she was nowhere to be found. Cecelia had completely disappeared into the woods.
Loki tucked the purse safely into his pocket. He would return to see her again, and he would deliver the purse back to its rightful owner.
heh
Cecelia dashed up to her house. Pausing behind the chicken pen, she pulled off the gown and bunched it tightly under her arm.
She then ducked her head and ran along the house until she reached the servants' entrance. Slipping inside, she made her way through the kitchens into the storeroom. Ducking low, she hid the gown behind a sack of flour. She yanked the golden threads from her hair and stowed them with the dress, pulling her hair up into a bun behind her head to mask the curls. She pulled out her own dress then, a simple creation with no figure and made of plain brown fabric. Pulling it over her head, she quickly exchanged her glamorous golden heals for a pair of tan flats, and made sure the entire folds of golden riches were well hidden in the flour sacks.
Then she made her way carefully out of the storeroom, through the kitchens again, and into the servant's wing. Once she ducked into her shabby room, she sank down onto the bed and breathed a sigh of relief.
It was a small room, with a bed, dresser, and washing bowl. In contained no flatteries or decoration aside from a small mirror above the washbowl. Standing delicately, Cecelia made her way to the washing bowl and scrubbed any evidence of nobility makeup from her face. Peering into the tinted mirror above her bowl, Cecelia was satisfied with her altered appearance. Now that her makeup was gone, a sprinkling of freckles fell across her nose and cheeks. Her lips had retuned to their natural pale pink, and her hair now hung limp and matted against her head. Her eyes were as bright as ever, and without the liner or gold dust to dull them, seemed to stand out with an unreal glow.
She hardly looked like the same person at all.
Smiling at her reflection, Cecelia made her way out to the main hall of the house again to ensure her presence was recognized.
"Celly!" yelled a voice from the stairwell. Cecelia suppressed a groan before turning to face her stepmother.
Edel was a plump and red woman, with thin, wispy brown hair and the attitude of a provoked viper.
"Celly!" yelled the woman again, angrily making her way down the stairs to Cecelia. "Where on earth have you been?"
"I am sorry stepmother, I fell asleep while I was cleaning out the chickens."
"Flightily girl!" exclaimed the woman, retracting at Cecelia's appearance. "Could you at least try not to be a lazy waste of space? Astrior needs your help packing, after all! This is no time for dilly dallying!"
"But of course, I will head right up to her rooms to help."
With Edel shooing her from behind, Cecelia made the climb up the stairs to her stepsister's room. She raised her hand to knock, but her stepmother pushed past her and broke into the door.
"What are you doing?!" exclaimed the haughty girl within. "Oh, it's you," she snapped, calming once she realized it was her mother.
"I brought Celly to help you pack. We must be sure all of your best gowns are prepared. This is your best opportunity, and we must be sure that you are looking your very best if you wish to catch the eye of the princes."
"Yes, of course," mulled Astrior. "But I hardly think Celly will be such a help; her insolence and laziness would do more harm then good, I think."
"I will do my best to assure all of your needs are seen to, m'lady," said Cecelia quickly, dropping into a respectful curtsy.
Astrior sighed deeply as though this decision was giving her great pain, then flicked her hand in the direction of the closet, where her gowns hung.
Cecelia made her way to closet and began to remove the ones she knew to be favorites, folding them gently into transport bags.
Astrior returned to examining herself in her hand mirror. The two stepsisters were as opposite as could be when it came to looks. Everywhere Cecelia was light, Astrior was dark. Everywhere Cecelia was bold, Astrior was bland.
Astrior had tanned skin and a full chest. She had dark luscious hair, which framed her face. Her lips were naturally deep crimson, but one would never know that as they were always coated in layers of nobility makeup. Her eyes were a pale blue, but where most people's eyes had life and an edge of personality to them, hers were simply blue. They did not act like windows into her soul, displaying a part of her personality with a single glance. They simply existed on her face.
"Make sure you pack my red gown, it is sure to catch some eyes. And my green one. And why-where is my white and golden one?" Astrior's tone held an accusatory note.
"I have taken it down to be washed, m'lady," claimed Cecelia without hesitation. "I noticed a stain on the bodice this morning while I was tidying your closet."
"Be sure it is ready for our departure, then," demanded Astrior.
Cecelia nodded that she would, and continued with Astrior's packing.
Edel fussed over her only daughter, admiring her appearance from every angle, and observing each aspect of her look.
"You are the most beautiful creature on this universe!" exclaimed Edel excitedly. "You are sure to catch the princes' eye. You two will be wed and you shall be sitting upon the throne as queen in no time!"
"Of course I will, if Prince Thor has any sense at all about him." agreed Astrior, nodding into her mirror. "I have heard princes have good taste in beauty."
"Of course they do," agreed Edel. "I am so happy Igor's work has called him to the palace so often. This is a fortunate opportunity for all of us!"
Cecelia coughed quietly. Edel spun on her and began listing her demands.
"You will finished packing Astor's gowns, then you will go see that all of our preparations are set for tomorrow. Be ready to leave at dawn."
"What?" asked Cecelia, suddenly alert. "I am going with you? But I thought-"
"Plans have changed," cut in Edel. "While at first Igor thought this was going to be a simple trip, it now appears we will be staying at the palace for some time. Astrior will need a handmaid if she has any hope of capturing the prince's heart. And you, as lazy as you are, are the best we have here."
"But-" Cecelia wanted to protest; Edel faced her with a sinister glare that made it clear there would be no room for discussion. "Of course, madam," nodded Cecelia, returning to her packing.
She had hoped to stay behind, living in the house and working without the presence of her awful Stepmother and Stepsister would have been a blessing. But, she supposed she would have to make do with the current situation.
She was slightly curious about these Asgardian princes, and if they would show any interest in Astrior's attempts to capture their hearts. Perhaps there would be something worthwhile viewing at the royal palace of Asgard.
A/N-Hey everyone! This is my first long Loki fic, and I am super excited about it! I think it's going to be about 20 chapters long, so let's make that goal! Thank-you for reading and please review! I love to hear constructive critisism! Have a wonderful Saturday!~Kim