Things get a little more... interesting. I like mentally torturing Loki. Do I have a problem? Noooo I don't think so. I'm just getting started!
VI. Game of Truth
"I have almost forgotten how small you are.", he said, cursing himself for sounding oddly breathless.
"I am bigger in person.", she retorted humorously, her observant eyes passing over him with care. A flicker of light flashed across her iris. Loki's aura was still not easy to read. Many conflicting emotions were entwined into countless mottled knots. Among this multifaceted, chaotic rainbow, she could see a dark shadow pulsing, tied down by heavy restriction and self-control right now. There was sadness, surely for his mother. Reproach, probably for his brother and father. And around his heart, a thin, bright thread swirled like a pristine serpent. Was he… happy to see her?
"That, I believe without a second guess.", Loki mused quietly. He noticed her persistent gaze and seemed to understand its purpose.
"Now that there is no magic to interfere with your sight… What do you see?", he asked with genuine interest. She would say something like chaos, doubts, an utter mess… What else could she see but that?
"I wish I could show you." He stared at her in wonder, abandoned by the gift of speech. "Too many things to put into words.", Ljosira said, her lids fluttering. Of all the things he expected, her answer hadn't been one of them. She held out the leather-bound tome to him. His eyebrows went up when he took it.
"The Antlers hauling Moon and Sun.", he mumbled. "This… is my favourite book. I should expect nothing less from your keen eyesight." This was probably the closest thing to gratitude he could muster. Ljosira blinked again, this time from amazement. Loki's eyes flickered to hers. Up close, she was able to see the tint of blue braiding through the dark green, like soft moss covering a smooth rock. An inscrutable quirk lingered on his lips.
"I left this in my bedroom… Either my mother gave it to you, or… You have been there yourself.", he deliberated. Ljosira cleared her throat, fighting against the heat that rose to her face.
"It helps my task to look at personal belongings." Well, not an outright lie, but it bent the truth rather freely.
"Well, since you don't mind trespassing on closed doors, you might be reckless enough to keep me company for a while. Would you like to play a game?", he asked and moved to sit down in one of the chairs in his cell. She inclined her head, which made her look like a curious bird.
"What kind of game?" Loki indicated for her to take a seat across him at the small table.
"Do you enjoy riddles?" Her elegant brows shot upward in surprise.
"I know a few.", she answered slowly.
"It works like this. I am going to pose you a riddle. If you can solve it, I shall answer a question that you have for me truthfully. Then, we switch roles and you tell me a riddle, and so on. A sparring of wit, if you wish to call it so.", he explained. She regarded him in silence for a moment.
"You are not trying to pull me into one of your mind-games, are you?", she pondered, but there was no trace of fear in her voice.
"No.", Loki emphasised. "Contrary to popular belief, I am not a fool. And… you made your point, yesterday." Another pause. This one seemed to last longer.
"Your first riddle, then.", Ljosira bobbed her head in approval, momentarily dazzled by the delighted expression on his features.
"We hurt without moving, we poison without touching, we bear the truth and the lies, we are not judged by our size. What are we?", Loki proposed. She turned thoughtful for an instant, but answered quickly.
"You'll have to try harder than that! The answer is: Words.", when he nodded, she went on to ask her question, "Why did you really join with the Chitauri forces?"
"I thought you might ask. Because I had no other choice. It was either that, or death. And the only reason I still live is that they knew I could open a portal to Midgard through the Tesseract. How was I supposed to go back to Asgard after what happened? Ruling Midgard seemed like a good purpose.", he spoke pensively, turning the little red book in his long fingers. She sensed that he was telling her the truth. His eyes, full of aptitude, were trained on her face with a serious expression. When she averted her gaze, Loki caught himself studying the slender arc of her neck. Pearly smooth, with a slight ridge which disappeared beneath her collarbone. Errant wisps of silver hair curled along the edge of her robe, where the fabric stood out darkly against her skin.
"Do you truly understand the burden of ruling, Loki?", she said without looking at him. It was the first time she had addressed him with his name. The singsong cadence made it sound oddly gentle.
"Evidently, I understand the rules of this game. Only one question at the time, dragon. Your turn, now.", he retorted mischievously, hoping his voice betrayed nothing of the hazardous direction his thoughts headed into.
"Alright then. You struggle to regain me, when I am lost, you struggle to obtain me. I pass no matter your will, but I am your slave to kill. What am I?", she posed her riddle.
"Ah, a good one! The answer is: Time. Give me a challenge, please.", Loki solved it without effort. When Ljosira took another peek at his aura, she realized that he was… enjoying himself. It thoroughly flustered her. What a strange turn of events.
"So… why where you really in my bedroom?", came his question. She craned her neck and huffed.
"I may not be mortal, but that does not mean I am above curiosity.", she then said with a slight smile.
And from there on, beginning with this first game of truth, Ljosira visited him almost every day. The riddles were a way to ask each other questions at the start. In time, they would forget the rules completely and speak to each other beyond self-inflicted boundaries. Loki learned a great deal about the dragon who had been chosen as his advocate. The youngest of a plentiful royal family, and an only sister among brothers, raised, protected and sheltered. Never truly allowed to be free lest she be exposed to danger. How she loved Asgard and has watched over it with keen eyes, hoping to one day be named Great Protector over this branch of Yggdrasil.
But the imposing subjects were almost less interesting than all the little things he came to know about her. The way she craned her neck sometimes, an utterly draconic gesture mortals did not use. Or how she inclined her head, surveying him as though he was some vexing object designed to puzzle her. Her slender hands as they turned a book's pages or fiddled with a fold of her robes. How she seemed fascinated by menial things – like the stitching on a tablecloth, but could create such complicated magic, he went green with envy and the wish of mastering it.
And how, sometimes, in rare moments, she eyed him with odd little looks he couldn't place. Hard to fathom what thoughts dwelled inside a mind like hers. As the days and then weeks went by, they developed their own little games and tricks, filling long hours which seemed to pass much too quickly for his taste. Loki would read a passage from a book, and she would enact a scene with a spell. Nothing like his illusions, not as tangible. Her magic was ethereal, instinctive, no copy of reality but drawn from an entirely different source that knew no restriction except the one of imagination.
That he subconsciously started to look forward to her appearing at the barrier frightened him. He caught himself glancing over to it frequently when she was late. On the days where she didn't visit him at all – though those were rare – he became moody and felt oddly agitated, pacing the little space until even his guards looked nervous.
One afternoon, Ljosira entered while he was reading intently, and when he looked up, he had to yelp down a laugh. The complicated arrangement of her clothes had been tied into an utter mess. It seemed she had no understanding whatsoever about how to get dressed properly.
"Why are you laughing?", she demanded, her tone sharp. Loki tried to compose himself, clearing his throat audibly.
"You seem to be oblivious to the way clothes work. Why is it they always look so strange on you?", he answered, pointing at a hastily tied knot below her shoulder. Her cheeks flushed delightfully red.
"No maid, noblewoman or even the queen would help me to get dressed, as they could accidentally touch me in the process. How am I supposed to know how to arrange these things on my own, when I never wore clothes as a dragon?", she lamented, frustrated. But Loki just stared at her, shocked. A realization visibly dawned on his face.
"Do not touch a young dragon. That law…", he stated in a weak voice. "I have broken it." She went still. Now the damage was done – he would have found out anyway, as he would have remembered the rule sooner or later.
"Yes, you have.", Ljosira confirmed. Loki's brow furrowed.
"Why didn't I die? The unrestrained magic should have burst me to bits…", but she cut him off with a snort.
"What is it with you people and all the violence? Does everything have to be destructive with you?" He stood up and prowled the room, befuddled.
"But why is it forbidden if nothing bad happens?", he asked blankly. And with a great sigh, Ljosira explained. About the creation of life-bonds between dragons, of their reciprocity and protective nature, and how they are not allowed to be forged between mortals and dragons, unless in exceptional cases, as with Heimdall and her brother Vegr. Loki listened with amazement.
"But… I don't feel anything.", he said after she had finished.
"You are not a dragon. You perceive the life-bond much more… subtly.", Ljosira sounded a little insulted and he could not understand the reason. His deep, green eyes lingered on hers.
"And how do you perceive it?", he asked in a quiet voice. To his surprise, her gaze fled away from his, seeking the distance.
"I wish I could show you.", she spoke the same words from weeks ago, when she had first seen his aura with her dragon sight.
"Why was I not punished?", Loki wondered.
"Because for one, you saved me from falling. And secondly, you had no knowledge of my true identity. My father was angry, but he is not unreasonable.", she explained, shrugging. Loki hung his head, thinking for a long moment. Then he lifted his gaze.
"That means… If I happen to touch you now…", he began tentatively. Strange, it sounded like a… request?
"It would not make any difference.", Ljosira responded, frowning. And before she knew what was happening, he had crossed the room and stepped behind her. She opened her mouth to protest when he undid one of the silken bows between her shoulder-blades.
"You cannot tie it like this… But you wouldn't know… Even you can't see behind your back." His voice was soft and quiet as he corrected her awful creation with skilful hands. Standing completely still, afraid that if she moved the strange moment would end, Ljosira was overly aware of his fingers sliding across the folds of silk. She realized that she had held her breath for so long she'd begun to get dizzy. But breathing proved to be hazardous too, since his scent quite effectively drove her to distraction. Loki felt her body shiver when his hand brushed across the bare skin of her back during his efforts.
Even this slightest touch left his fingers tingling as tough he had touched an electric current. Or something on fire. He took a breath to calm the slight tremble, fought the urge to run his whole hand along the inexplicably straight nick that marked her spine, and hoped Ljosira needed direct eye contact to read auras. For his probably brimmed with coarse images he definitely didn't want her to notice.
Much taller than her, he had no effort to reach the knot over her collarbone from behind her back. Ljosira was sure her heart tossed itself so fiercely against her chest, its frantic thuds would be audible across the whole prison. Even though he barely touched her, she could feel the light pressure of his arms around her shoulders, even the muscles at work as he redid the tie, the solid chest heaving against her back with each breath. His face was bent down next to her head, his deep breaths stroking over her cheek as he concentrated his eyes on what he was doing. She'd never experienced such a strangely intimate moment. Seeing the way his fingers moved delicately sent small chills down her spine. If this went on for much longer, she would jump out of her skin.
"I hope you are watching… so you won't have problems in the future…", Loki's voice sounded deeper than usual, uneven. She merely nodded, and he wished more than wishing for glorious recognition that he could read one tiny shred of her thoughts right now. Finished with his work, he retreated reluctantly, breaking the magic of the moment. The sense of loss he felt scared the wits out of him.
After this fateful day, the relentless dragon lady would not only visit him by day, but also wedge herself into his thoughts, taking up permanent residence there even during sleep. Not inexperienced, he'd been with quite a few women before. But this was different somehow.
In the past, he had always managed to keep a cold distance to these women and they mostly served for his pleasure. With increasing unease, he realized how that sort of behaviour would be impossible with Ljosira. A part of him actually loathed the very notion of treating her as he had treated the ones before. He was no stranger to physical attraction, only he had a rising trepidation that this was no such blatantly simple thing. This felt more like a small spark born between them, growing slowly and patiently until it would set him on fire.
Such intricate magic dwelled within her, a wondrous thing that seemed to be perceptible on her very skin. Some nights, he woke from dreams of touching her, feeling her against his body, losing himself in the silver ocean of her hair, the overwhelming softness. He wanted to shout out at the frustration that struck him every time he woke. An aching need that knocked the breath from his lungs. He wondered if this was one of the 'subtle' ways the life-bond showed.
Loki didn't know what to think about it, neither did he know how exactly it affected him. Although it was very convenient to rationalize it this way. Some things made more sense, after all. The jolt he had felt on the balcony so many years ago, when he had touched her. The way he was instinctively sure he could trust her, and that he wouldn't be able to hurt her.
But the wicked images in his sleep went much farther than that, near torturous in their intensity. He would jolt up in his bed, breathless and drenched in sweat, a strong pulling tension in his loins which no amount of pacing or mental temperance could fully disperse. His touch had been lighter than a plume moth's wings.
And yet she haunted him. The fragrance of her skin alone… honey and marigold, like a sun-kissed summer wine. He remembered the flawless curve of her nape and how he had battled the urge to trace it with his lips, to taste a bit of her vivid essence, draw a sigh of pleasure from her rippling throat. Damn her. He prowled around his cell like a caged animal, torn between cursing at her and picturing her beneath him, bare and glorious and gasping his name.
What the hell was wrong with him? He couldn't lust after this woman, for a thousand reasons. If there was a rule against mortals even touching them, they would surely eviscerate anyone who… defiled their mortal forms. You are walking a dangerous line, his conscience piped up. He knew. Oh, how he knew, but that did nothing to bridle his way too colourful imagination. Loki struggled to keep whatever he was feeling shut behind closed doors while longing slowly drove him mad inside. If it only had been that easy to purge one's attraction to a woman from the mind, the world would be considerably poorer on sultry poetry.
He had no inkling that the dragon princess was so flustered after their intense moment, she sat in front of the mirror for the longest time, tracing the ribbon-like knot he had tied absently. She, too, wondered if her feelings originated from their connection, or if there was much more to it than that – and frightened her, because she sensed it much more distinctly. So many confusing emotions she did not understand. They eluded her like intangible little wisps.
What were they? Why had she not wanted him to stop, but instead to pull her close, embrace her, so badly she thought she might burst with it. Was this the reason why dragons should not be getting too close to mortals? What is this bittersweet feeling, this mixture of giddy anticipation and frantic yearning?, she thought to herself. Nobody answered her. That night, Ljosira went to bed with a growing restlessness that tingled through every part of her. She did not get one wink of sleep.