Heat
Or, "It's always that damn popsicle"
By Sora-sensei
Summary: Damn popsicle… that damn popsicle…
Disclaimer: No, I don't own Ragnarok or affiliated characters.
A/N: Just a bit of crack that comes from having no sleep and very perverted people living next door… Teensy hint of Fenris/Loki but you have to squint to see it! I am a very, very bad girl…
Though she was still a very tender seventeen, Iris Irine was clearly a very desirable female and was going to become one in a matter of years. The impressive "assets" helped. Despite her generous bosom, she was not always the object of male (and sometimes female) desire, contrary to popular thought.
Many a passing stranger eyed her traveling companion cum temporary female guardian/mentor Fenris Fenrir with great interest/lust/desire/depraved obsession/etc. Maybe it was in the mature beauty that not even generous youthful bosoms could match, the handsome carved features of the face with full lips and high cheekbones and broad forehead, a sweep of blue-black hair and enigmatic sapphire-silver eyes, generous curves with finely shaped legs… The attentions of stranger, unfortunately, seemed to be unreciprocated in any way (except in the case of stalking and a good whack with Laevatein usually did the job in solving that particular problem), either by Fenris Fenrir's ascetic demeanor or her not quite subtle "affection" for Rune Knight Chaos.
Or there could be the fact that she didn't even notice.
But that would be insulting the warlock's astonishingly adept observational skills! Such an affront!
Ladies and gentlemen, exhibit A:
"It's too hot!" Iris complained. She had already stripped off her outer dress, going about in her rather scanty under dress with its miniscule straps and low cut keyhole bodice. The young cleric would have thrown herself on the inn's bed but luckily realized that the wool blanket probably wasn't very conducive to her ultimate goal of escaping the heat.
"You're one to complain," Chaos grumbled from across the room, where he was oiling his boots.
"I have a delicate constitution. I wilt in hot temperatures, so there!" With that the former princess of Fayon made a decidedly un-princess-like face at her best friend.
"Iris is right. The heat is rather draining," Fenris said, her usually bland, pleasant smile looking a little strained. She was still in her bolero jacket and long slacks; satin did not make for comfort in hot climes.
Loki looked like the only one who didn't care, though the rest of them eyed his new white burnoose and cloak with something akin to envy.
"You, Loki! You have some sort of spell in there, don't you?" Iris demanded.
A cool emerald gaze penetrated the young cleric from across the room and she wilted, before turning to Fenris with starry eyes. "You're a warlock, aren't you, Fenris? Don't you have an ice spell? A cooling spell? Anything?!" The girl's voice rose to earsplitting levels and even Loki was beginning to look distinctly ruffled at the exponentially higher pitch.
"Unfortunately, nothing that I can efficiently use. It's too dry here so I cannot bring moisture in sufficient amounts to even cool this room. We will just have to get through it like anyone else without magical comforts." With that, Fenris stripped off her bolero but did not take off her vambrances. Beneath the puffed sleeves and tightly fitting bodice, she wore a high-necked tunic that was thankfully sleeveless, revealing powerful but pale upper arms.
Though Chaos was a gentleman (of sorts) and with no interest in girls whatsoever (for now), his gaze hovered over, fixed at the sight of the warlock taking off a layer of clothing. Even Loki perked up and let his eyes rake over the revealed flesh, not that his traveling companions would have known anything had changed.
"Sherbet," Loki said after a brief pause, his voice monotone.
"What?" Iris inquired, rounding on him.
Fenris looked over as well, in the middle of neatly folding her bolero. "Sherbet? You mean to say, ice?" she asked in mild surprise.
"What is that?"
Fenris smiled a little once it was clear that Loki wasn't going to be a tour guide anytime soon. "It is a dessert popular with desert communities. It is snow covered in rose water and sugar and lemon." She checked her belt pouch. "I do happen to have a handful of zeny. I suppose it will not be too frivolous to indulge in such a treat. It may even be better for us."
"Really? Let's go!" Stars gleamed in the cleric's eyes as she all but dragged the warlock to the door, leaving the two males left to exchange looks and heave a sigh, a silent one in Loki's case. The assassin had certain standards to maintain, after all.
-
The two females came back with curious ice treats on wooden sticks. Iris was licking at two at a time with gusto and Loki stared at the molded ice blankly.
"Popsicles," Fenris explained, offering the two males a part of the bounty. "A vendor said that these were far more convenient."
"I suppose," Chaos said doubtfully, taking one.
Loki would have declined but something in him couldn't say no to the quiet woman's expression. He took the molded ice and looked at it for a long moment. Surreptitiously, he tasted it. Oranges, though a bit too cloyingly sweet. He thanked Fenris with a terse word and the reincarnated Wolf God offered him a slight smile in response.
Chaos, having once tasted his "popsicle," was eating it with gusto, the flavor of lemons being more to his taste, evidently.
Fenris was taking her time with hers, once she made sure everyone was settled with an ice treat. She had tucked her hair up by this time, so the long, thick mass wouldn't further trap heat against her back. Loki was the only one who noted that she had a very elegant nape- objectively speaking, of course. By this time, her popsicle was slowly melting, so she had to catch the drops with her tongue as quickly as possible, to prevent the sticky juice from falling and possibly staining something.
Her treat was red, like strawberries, and the juice and cold simultaneously colored her lips and caused them to swell. Loki would have cursed his keen eyesight if the sight wasn't so very fascinating… Fenris continued to blithely lick at the popsicle, savoring every bit of it, unlike Iris, who was almost finished.
The warlock's pink tongue darted out to catch straggling drops, to smooth over the long cylindrical treat. Loki pretended it was the heat that was making his ears flush red and pulled his burnoose forward a little to hide the evidence of his discomfort. By this time, even Chaos was noting the scene with the warlock and the affable Rune Knight's eyes were starting to widen. The assassin trusted that the scene would divert the fool properly. He applied himself to finishing the sickeningly sweet ice as soon as possible; there was no sense in wasting food or ice, a lesson drummed into him after long years in the Assassin's Guild. Waste was unforgivable.
However, the ice disappeared much too fast and thus, it was only Fenris who was left, calmly eating her popsicle and ignoring all the attentions of the two males in the room.
However Chaos liked Iris (though he would deny it as much as he possibly could, claiming that she was a friend, nothing more, like we believe that), he was still very susceptible to the triggers of any other healthy, straight male. It took quite a bit of control to not drop his jaw and it was quite an effort.
Loki was best at hiding his emotions but his traveling companions knew all too well that what he displayed on his face was usually opposite to what he was really doing. The assassin would have been dismayed to discover that the others had discovered the pattern should he have known. Currently, Loki's calm, blank face meant that he was very intently focusing on something.
Fenris didn't bother to bite into her popsicle, not yet, anyways. She was intently sucking on the tip between her brilliantly red, plump lips. The observer could only imagine her tongue gently caressing the tip in her mouth, catching every bit of melted juice, which was promptly what both males thought of, causing Chaos to lose enough control to let his jaw drop and Loki's blush to spread to the tops of his cheeks.
She drew in a little more of the treat into her mouth, letting her lips run up and down the slowly narrowing cylinder. Then, she let her lips wrap about the very tip and delicately, with rather small but white teeth, bit off the rather narrow tip.
Chaos made a choking noise. Loki's face was almost as red as the strawberry popsicle.
By this time, Iris had been obliviously finishing her twin sweets and rummaging through her pack for something that was even scantier than her slip. She blinked as she looked at the two males, who tore their eyes from the warlock, who had opened her eyes at this point.
"You think that a popsicle would have cooled the two of you down," the cleric said in slight exasperation, innocently oblivious of the happenings of the last few minutes.
Fenris eyed the two of them in mild curiosity before shrugging and turning away to finish the rest of her popsicle in peace. Chaos choked again and Loki turned away, pulling up the bottom layer of his white cloak to hide his red face.
End Exhibit A.
Conclusion: The more attractive you are, the less likely are you able to recognize that you are a turn-on.
