A/N: Don't own don't sue
Lyrics at the beginning are from 'If I Knew by Bruno Mars
If I Knew
Chapter Four
I was a city boy
Right into danger's where I'd always run a boy who had his fun
But I wouldn't've done
All the things that I have done
If I knew one day you'd come
I know it breaks your heart
To picture the only one you wanna love
In someone else's arms
But I wouldn't have done
All the things that I have done
If I knew one day you'd come
Oh, baby, please
Let's leave the past behind us, behind us
So that we can go where love will find us
Yeah, will find us
I know most girls would leave me
But I know that you believe me
Baby, I, I wish we were seventeen
So I could give you all the innocence
That you give to me
No, I wouldn't have done
All the things that I've done
If I knew one day you'd come
The Queen had taken to her chambers, claiming she had an utterly debilitating migraine that caused her hideous pain unless she lay in her darkened room in perfect silence. Eira had felt a little suspicious as the Queen waved her out of her room quite happily, but was too tempted by an entire free day to herself to question it. The day was scorching, heat rising from the ground in waves and causing the glare from the shining buildings to reflect brilliantly until the whole kingdom seemed to glow. It was too hot for the horses to ride and she couldn't concentrate on any of her books or her letters home so Eira took to wandering the palace in utter boredom.
Eventually she ran into a few of the other Ladies of the court on their way out to the royal docks to indulge in the heat. Eira allowed herself to be dragged along with them, listening to the court gossip and predicting who would marry next. It was almost comforting to be pulled into their sphere of banality, where the biggest worry was who to flirt with that day or what entertainment was expected.
When they reached the docks, most of the younger members of court were splashing around in the shallows or drifting languidly around on the sleek elegant docked ships. Eira wandered away from the ships and across to where the water was a little deeper. She unlaced her sandals and stripped out of her silk dress, feeling the burning heat prickle across her bare skin. She had not been expecting to swim today so she left her thin linen shift on to preserve her dignity. She stared out at the water below her, rippling lazily and glittering in the sunlight. It was surprisingly peaceful out here, if you ignored the odd ship that roared overhead intermittently.
Taking a deep breath, Eira arched her body and dove into the cool water. She could hold her breath for a remarkably long time, and she swam as deep as she could before her lungs started to ache. It was blissfully cool and silent under the water. Faintly in the distance she could see the rest of the court splashing and bouncing in the water. The shadow of a ship crossed over her and she glanced up, wondering where it was travelling to as she watched the hull flying overhead through the clear filter of the water above her head.
Something brushed her bare leg and she let out a wordless shriek, gulping a lungful of water in her panic. She shot back up to the surface, breaking through and gasping frantically. Whirling she found the guard she had recently befriended grinning sheepishly at her. Deciding not to scratch his eyes out, even though she sorely wanted to, Eira forced a smile.
"I'm sorry, my Lady." He stammered. "I didn't mean to startle you."
Unlike Loki, she believed him. Her smile was real this time.
"I believe I can forgive you." She managed to get out, her throat slightly hoarse from the choking.
"You're not joining the rest of the court?" He gestured towards the distant joyful shrieking.
Eira gave a non-committal shrug.
"Are you not on duty?" She asked him, knowing full well he would be severely punished for abandoning the dungeons if he should be on duty. He would hardly risk that for a few moments in the water with her.
"It's my free day." He explained eagerly.
Eira nodded. It had been over a week since Loki had asked her to sing for him. She had been wary of returning after the previous humiliation so had not noticed whether her guard had been on duty or not. As if he could read her mind, the guard cocked his blond head and regarded her curiously.
"Do you not visit the Prince today?"
Eira narrowed her eyes at him thoughtfully. His station was at the gates and he would not venture into the dungeons even if there was trouble. There were other guards for that.
"Why would you believe I visit the Prince?"
The guard looked slightly shocked, as if he had not expected her to deny it. He really was too naïve for court, it was almost endearing.
"The only others imprisoned are a drunk thief and a rapist." He said quietly. "I would only expect a Lady like yourself to visit a Prince, given the alternatives."
"Very wise. I can't argue with your logic."
The guard frowned slightly, he knew she hadn't answered his question but he couldn't ask again without being rude.
"Does he have many visitors?" She asked idly, the water lapping around them as they pushed their arms in steady circles to stay above the waterline.
"No, my Lady." He answered quickly, his eyes huge with honesty. "Only you."
Eira just managed to keep her smile to herself. She was pleased that he did not have a whole array of doe-eyed serving girls trawling in and out of his cell.
"He's handsome." The guard observed, once again reading her mind. Maybe he was more astute than she had given him credit for.
"He's a traitor." Eira replied automatically.
"Yet you visit him." The guard blurted, flushing at his own daring when she shot him an amused glance.
Eira didn't reply. If she told him she'd been asked by the Queen to visit her son, it would no doubt get back to the King one way or another and he would put a stop to her visits. And she wasn't quite ready for that yet.
His mother's illusion had long since left him, feeling irritable and unsatisfied. He had been startled to find her suddenly in his cell and for a moment had genuinely worried for his sanity. Until he had put the pieces together and understood. He loved his mother, whatever he may say to her in his seemingly endless rage, and as glad as he was to see her and be assured that she still loved him, she was not the figure he had been waiting for. He could not toy with her in a way that would ease the darkness in his soul.
Out of sheer boredom, one could only entertain oneself with ones thoughts for so long, Loki leapt from his bed and prowled across the cell. There was one book left on his table that he had yet to read. Picking it up, he squinted at the gold embossed words shimmering on the dark grey leather bound cover. It looked like a Midgardian book. Curious indeed. Why would his mother send him a book from Midgard? He flipped the cover open. For a split second words in his mother's hand glittered, directing him to something midway through the book before they vanished. Damn her if she didn't know exactly how to capture his attention.
The court retreated to the dining halls for supper as the sun started to fade. Not feeling hungry in this stifling heat, Eira took the opportunity to slip away to the dungeons. She checked in on the Queen before she left. Finding the room still darkened and Frigga's golden head on the pillow, she grabbed the latest pile of books and closed the door silently behind her.
He was deeply engrossed in the book when Eira stepped through the barrier. He was aware of her from the moment she had set foot into the dungeon but he didn't register her appearance by so much as the flicker of an eyelash.
"Good evening, Prince." She chirped cheerfully once she noticed how distracted he was.
Loki ignored her attempt to irritate him, calmly closing the book and looking at her thoughtfully.
"Sit, nightingale."
She rolled her eyes. He would insist on trying to order her around.
"Please." He added sweetly, the very word loaded with so much disdain that it completely ruined the idea of any genuine entreaty from him.
She sighed, somehow managing to take an inordinate amount of time to cross the tiny cell and take a seat in the plush velvet chair, carefully arranging her peacock blue gown so it draped becomingly from her knees. Loki would have been furious at her insolence, if he hadn't found it so amusing. He lifted his eyebrows when she finally turned towards him with fake obedience written all over her pretty face. She gestured grandly for him to continue. He let the disrespect pass and handed her the book.
"'1001 Arabian Nights'?" Eira observed.
A wave of his finger opened the book at the correct page.
"'The Tale of Shahryar and Scheherazade'." Eira read out slowly, brushing her fingertip over the elaborate script. "This is a book from Midgard."
Loki didn't deign to bless her with a response as the words were clearly not Asgardian.
"My mother advised me to read that one in particular."
He indicated for her to read, leaning back against the wall of the cell to watch her. As she got further into the tale, she forgot to keep her guard up. Her posture relaxed into the curve of the chair, her clever green eyes darting across the page. He found he enjoyed watching her when she was unaware of his scrutiny. During his long years he had come to realise that everyone had a mask and it was only when they believed themselves alone that they peeled it away to reveal their real selves. Eira's face was rapt as she devoured the strange tale, her eyebrows lifting and dropping and her plump mouth twisting. Loki briefly remembered nights long long ago, when his mother would read aloud to him; history books and fantasy tales, scientific tomes and stories about the stars. He would sit and watch her, the expressions on her face telling more of the stories than her words ever could.
Eira closed the book when she reached the end of the tale, looking across at Loki curiously.
"Fascinating."
An idea had been purring in Loki's mind since the moment he had read that tale. No doubt his mother's intention when she had pointed it out to him. A smile crept over his face and Eira shifted in the chair feeling not unlike a rabbit would when a wolf grinned at it in a very similar fashion.
"Let's play a little game, love."
The murmured endearment only made her more positive that she would not like whatever he was about to say. As if he could read her mind, his wolfish grin widened and his eyes glittered.
"I'm listening." She offered cautiously.
Loki was before her in a flash, vanishing from his spot against the wall and appearing over her. He had a hand on each arm of the chair, caging her in. She shivered slightly but she tilted her chin and stared up at him challengingly. He studied her carefully; the noble shape of her face, the curve of her nose slightly upturned at the end, her plump red mouth pursed in an attempt to hide her nervousness and those huge defiant eyes. She may have been scared, concerned by his dangerous manner and how close he was looming, but her wide cat eyes, a brilliant shade of green more vivid than any emerald, were fixed unwaveringly on his.
"You're going to be my Scheherazade." He said thoughtfully, cocking his head to the side as he watched the flush creep up her cheeks.
"Excuse me?"
She hadn't thought it possible for his grin to get any wider but somehow it did; a row of perfect pearly white teeth so close she could almost see her reflection in them.
"You're going to sing for me, nightingale." He was so near to her she could smell the spicy scent of him; woodsmoke and lemon, magic and danger. "A song, rather than a tale, each night."
"For… for a thousand and one nights?" Eira laughed in disbelief.
"Of course, nightingale. That's how the story goes, isn't it?"
Eira stopped laughing as she realised he was serious, frowning up at him in confusion. He saw the pucker appear between her eyebrows, her eyes searching his curiously as she tried to understand what he would gain from this game.
"A thousand and one songs, a song each night." A smile tugged at her lips, perfectly positioned beneath his own. "And then?" She leaned towards him abruptly and Loki gripped the arms of the chair so tightly the wood creaked beneath his fingers. "Will Shahryar learn to love Scheherazade after one thousand and one songs? One thousand and one moments shared?" She breathed against his ear, her nose brushing against his soft hair.
"Looking into the future has unfortunately never been one of my many considerable talents." Loki murmured, rather enjoying the scent of her beautiful hair exuding warmth against his cheek. She smelt like the outside world; salt and sun and freedom.
"I don't quite see where this is worth my time?" Eira pointed out, drawing back slightly so she could see his face again. Loki's head slipped to the side thoughtfully. He hadn't actually thought about that. "I'm not sure I enjoy your presence enough to commit myself for one thousand and one nights."
Loki ignored the insult; he could tell by the way her pupils dilated when he stepped closer to her that she was attracted to him. Or she was afraid of him. Either option was inherently appealing to him given the lack of any other entertainment for the rest of eternity.
"Very well. What would you like?"
Eira blinked rapidly in surprise and Loki grinned smugly. He had surprised her and for reasons unknown that gave him a little thrill of pleasure beneath his belly. She narrowed her eyes at him and put a firm hand on his chest.
"Step back." She ordered. "I can't think with you leaning over me like that."
Loki lifted his eyebrows in amusement but obediently removed his hands, held them up submissively and seemed to disappear. He reappeared on the opposite side of the cell, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest, legs crossed at the ankles and a smirk all over his face. Eira tried to ignore him, wracking her brain for what she could ask of him that he would ever be able to give her. Admittedly he was currently incarcerated but something told her that wouldn't last forever whatever his sentence may be. What does one ask for from a God?
Loki watched her thinking carefully and the longer she took to decide, the more respect he gained for her. There are some who would have demanded power within an instant, some who would have asked for him for the honour of being able to claim they had lain with a God and possibly gotten with child. Foolish wishes. She was thinking beyond that, pondering the different threads of the future and how each possibility could play out best to her advantage. Clever little songbird. He saw her settle on her choice, watched the brooding clear from her eyes and the slight quirk of her lips.
"Do tell, nightingale."
She gave him a sharp look. He had taken to that dratted nickname and would not refer to her by anything else. She didn't even think he knew her real name, he'd never asked for it.
"A song… for an answer." She propped her elbow on the arm of the chair, cupped her chin in her hand and stared at him expectantly.
"Clarify." Loki ordered, giving himself time to think of a way out of this corner he realised he'd gotten himself into.
"Simple. I sing a song for you, in return I ask you a question. Anything I want. You answer. Honestly." She added quickly. "An answer for a song. One thousand and one."
Loki's smile had vanished. What a crafty little witch. He had expected her to ask for favours, or for him to teach her some of his tricks. The usual fare. He had worded his offer too vaguely and she had slipped right through. He had underestimated her greatly. Knowledge was far more powerful than any magic tricks, especially in the hands of one clever enough to use it.
"Do we have an agreement, Prince?" She asked him in a perfectly polite tone that was laced with challenge, arching an eyebrow at him.
Loki gave her one of his lunatic grins and her smugness flickered momentarily. She had backed him into a corner he had not expected; he could not now refuse to accept her terms when he himself had offered her anything she wanted. Well if she wanted to see inside the deepest recesses of his mind, so be it. He could guarantee she wouldn't like what she found there.
"Very well, love." He said gently, meeting her gaze. She suddenly didn't seem so sure of herself anymore. "A song, for an answer."