Author's Note: I'm a little behind on private messaging you each individually, but I promise I'm gonna get back to it! And soon! My hands have been itching to write personal messages to y'all.
I've been uber busy recently with busy sauce on top. But aside from my schedule, I bring to you the next chapter! I think they just become my favorite with each new installment!
I think Krishna would be HONORED to know an iPod was named in her honor. I know I am. xD And let's PRAY it doesn't behave like her. Or you might find yourself shanked in the middle of the night. xD
Thank you all so much for the feedback. The reviews, the follows, the everything. It makes me fluttery just thinking about it. I couldn't have ever asked for such positive traction. :)
A random patch of sea turtles have become stranded in the Sahara Desert (Don't ask me how, it just happened)(probably Loki's doing, that little brat). Each review saves one, yes? ;)
TO THE STORY! Normal POV
"Okay…" Krishna's grimacing was accompanied by her gripping onto the edge of the massive vanity. "That's…that's tight…" But the hand-servant didn't seem to register Krish's plea at all. (The chambermaid heard her, oh, she heard her. But decided to do nothing about it.) The servant only gave another yank (earning a whimper from Krish) and began tying the ribbon of the corset.
"No," Loki was standing over by the wall, rubbing one hand over his chin thoughtfully. "No, pull it tighter."
Krishna looked under one of her arms to send Loki a searing glare with her set of neon eyes. "Tighter?" She hissed darkly. "I'm sorry to burst your bubble, Loki," no she wasn't, "but my organs are already compressed as much as they're going to be."
"You're still breathing," Loki said monotonously, his bubble obviously still very-not-burst.
"Through some sort of divine intervention, yes."
"So it isn't compressing your lungs, now is it?" He cocked his head to one side, plastered a smile on his face (a really creepy one, mind you) and widened his eyes. The glare Krishna gave him could have been lethal. Selling a bottled up Krishna glare to a terrorist could be the death of humanity. It was enough, at least, to push Loki to rummage up enough pity to command the hand-servant out of the room. The very moment the servant had bowed and scuttled away, Krishna reached to her back in a desperate attempt to free herself of the corset (deathtrap).
She went back behind the golden folding-screen muttering a chain of obscenities. Before long, the dress she had been wearing was cast over the screen in a mess of fabric. It laid, crumpled and rejected, in a white heap at Loki's feet. He picked it up and set it on the vanity. Particularly, in the pile Krish had lovingly dubbed "The Discard Pile," (followed by her kicking it a few times). A pile that was growing in size as the options dwindled.
"I hate that color, white." Krishna spat from the other side of the folding screen.
"Then pray tell what colors you don't hate, you picky leech." Instead of giving a decent response to Loki's partial-insult, Krishna only poked her head over the screen with narrowed eyes.
"Have you gone to the healers, yet?" She ask-sneered.
"I don't need to," he replied. One of Krishna's delicate eyebrows arched into her forehead. "My injuries weren't sustainable enough to require the healer's care. Just some magic. And we're not here to talk about the duel."
"I wasn't talking about the duel. I was talking about your massacred nose. It was bleeding like no one's business." She vanished behind the ornate temporary wall. "Like a horror movie, almost." Loki didn't get the reference, but he assumed it was bloody.
"Colors, KrishnaLan." Loki despised finding a dress for anyone, really. Krish was the last person he wanted to play dress-consultant for. As much as it seemed impossible, though, Krish hated the whole ordeal even more than he did.
Pants. Pants were her clothing of choice, thank you very much. If it hadn't have been a dress to be seen by the entire board of royalty, you couldn't have even paid Krish to put one of those… things… on her body. Loki was beginning to feel like it didn't matter anyway. For the entire morning, they'd been up to their knees in dresses. It was slowly starting to acclimate to their waists, and Krishna hadn't found anything even relatively pretty. So the dress tide was coming in, and they were on a dead-lock to be swept under the current. 'Colors' was the only crutch Loki had to lean on.
Krishna had obliterated all his other crutches.
"I don't know," Her arms flailed above the screen. "Why don't you choose one with your favorite colors, Loki?" Her voice was edgy, she was exhausted, and Loki could tell she was becoming aggravated. Those were three things he did NOT want to be a factor when dealing with an absolute loon like her. Best case scenario: She set the dresses on fire. Worst (and most likely) case scenario: she set HIM on fire and threw him out the window.
Which sent him spiraling among thoughts of how he would look to the people on the grounds. ("And that, dear, is the Prince of Asgard on fire falling out a window. What's that? Oh, no, he's the younger brother. No one cares about him.")
Loki, trying to avoid pouting at his most recent depressing thought, slid a dress out of the pile and tossed it over in a cascade of black, green and gold. Krishna dropped the dress, cussed, and then there was a considerable pause before she said –
"It's a corset dress."
-in the most dejected manner she could.
Loki sighed and brought one hand up to rest his head on. He hoped to offer one last ray of hope in saving the morning with, "I can assist you with the strings." In an equally dejected voice. He rested his head a little farther down, waiting for Krish to throw the dress again and ignore his final try at salvaging the day. There was a lengthy stretch of time without Krishna saying anything, leaving Loki to pick at his thumb and wait for the inevitable.
When she came out from behind the screen, Loki stopped picking at his thumb long enough to look up at her. He did a double-take.
And then he didn't really know what to do in that situation. So he tried to stand up, nearly knocking over and scrambling to catch a vase in the process. Then, when Krishna gave him a 'WTF are you doing?' look, Loki cleared his throat and stood up straighter. He shoved the vase behind the seat with his foot.
The dress wasn't particularly special; it was a corset-style black dress that had ribbons of gold and green adorning the top. They crossed over the front to hook around in the back and intertwine with the corset strings. Then it flaired out from there, into an organized mess of knee-length fabric strips. Green and black and gold strips, just extending to her knees in a fluid swarm. She inched toward the full length mirror, and when she walked, her pale knees peeked out from the forest of fabric.
Loki could tell she wasn't used to dresses. The undone corset strings turned to face him as Krishna rotated slowly to look in the mirror and examine her appearance. The first time Loki had ever seen her so timid was in that moment. It was like the entire existence around them melted away and it was just Krish, that dress, and the mirror. (Loki wasn't even involved in it anymore. Story of his life.) She ran her hands over the layered strips of fabric that made up the skirt, slowly feeling up the ridged corset, all made up of expensive fabrics.
After she had tried on floor-length gown after floor-length gown, extravagant designs and grand systems of jewels, this short dress seemed… Krishna. She turned around and looked at her exposed calves, still holding the undone corset up to her body. Loki, who was standing behind her, rubbed the back of his neck.
"I think, uh," Loki paused, keeping a remarkably straight face, "In my opinion, at least, if you want it…"
"It'll be nicer if someone helps me do up the strings." Krishna interrupted him before he could gush any more. Her cheeks were already flushing from wearing the dress, she didn't need compliments to make them burn. She looked down at the ground to her bare feet and shins.
Loki reached out and took the strings, tying them through each of the holes and weaving them between one another. Krishna pulled her hair forward, out of his way. And even though there was a silence between them, it was peaceful and somehow warm. At least, warm and peaceful in the sense that Krishna wasn't making it her mission to stab him. Or poke him. Or scar him mentally (which she did a lot). Or disembowel him or decapitate him or impale him or skin him. With all those variables taken out of the way, Krish was remarkably calm. Even beautiful.
If only she wasn't trying to stab, poke, scar, disembowel, decapitate, impale, or skin him – he could get used to her presence.
"You're ridiculously slender." Loki commented. Krish tipped her head up and looked at him in the mirror, dressed in his own extravagant garb that accented his own stick-like frame.
"You don't have a right to be talking about my weight, hypocrite." She whispered. Loki gave the strings a strong pull and met her gaze.
"Is it hurting you?" He asked simply.
"No." Krishna shook her head, keeping her hair pulled forward and out of his way. She even started braiding it around her fingers menially.
"Trust," Loki suddenly said in a darkened tone of voice. It was so dark, it made Krishna stop her braiding and stare wide-eyed at the floor, "is something that I don't freely give to others. It's secret, stored away within deep caverns in my soul. For some reason, and I haven't discovered that reason yet, you've managed to access those caverns." He yanked on the corset strings, making Krishna grip to the vanity again. "Is it hurting you?"
She shook her head, letting her eyes trail up to the mirror to look at him.
"Betrayal is what constantly threatens to burn its way into those caverns. Now that they're open, exposed and tender as a nerve, I fear that betrayal will fill the void of lost trust." Loki yanked the corset strings again with a tense jaw. Krishna closed her eyes. "Is it hurting you?"
She shook her head.
"I do not take betrayal well. And if someone, at any given point in time, feels the need to betray me, I will make their life hell. None are excluded from that threat, no age or race or culture." He wrapped the corset ribbons around his hand and pulled them again. Krishna clenched her jaw and her knuckles started to go white. "Is it hurting you?"
She hesitated this time, only for a moment, before shaking her head.
"When you broke through those caverns, you brought with you something more than trust. It's been tearing at me, eating me away, dissolving all of my tissues, and left me suffering. It's also kept me on my knees, and I find myself begging for more." Loki said quietly. Krishna's eyes fluttered open. "I haven't experienced that kind of affection for someone I was hardly accustomed to before. All I know is that I'm constantly waiting for the next opportunity to inject it into my bloodstream." He hesitated as well, and then gave the corset another tight pull. Krishna cried out, her hands flew to her stomach to grip at the corset. "Is it hurting you?"
"Yes!" Krishna gasped, her fingers tearing at the fabric. But before she could do much else about it, Loki's face was lowered next to her ear as he kept the ribbons tight. And, with a suddenly changed voice, something soft and delicate, sympathetic and sweet, he whispered-
"Me too."
He let go of the ribbons, tucked his hand underneath them, and eased them away from Krishna's back. She took a deep breath when her lungs were given enough room. Then Loki tied a bow on the back and turned her around to face him. Krishna looked up into his face with confusion, pain, not knowing whether she should have burst into tears, shoved him away, or hugged him. So she just stood there and looked at his expressionless face. How was it, though, that such lack of expression could express so much?
"You look fine." He said when she started becoming self-conscious again, when she peeked around to look back in the mirror. He stepped away from her, like nothing had happened, "Give it a turn."
Krishna watched the fabric flair out around her as she rotated on her heels. It danced around her thighs, exposed her knees, and then fell back down in shredded waves to rest against her skin. Then she tipped her head to look at Loki for approval.
He nodded. "I'm fond of the colors." He said slowly. Krishna stood straight and narrowed her eyes. Her hands slowly went to rest on her rigid, corseted hips. "What brilliant, handsome, intelligent person picked out those colors?"
"Where's that vase you were struggling with earlier?" Krishna flipped around to look for it. Loki's eyes widened and he pushed it farther under the chair. "I'm going to break it on your skull."
xXxXx
Aaand, Loki was back to the nervous pacing thing. Mind, in the good shoes that didn't scuff. In fact, he was all decked out in his most formal wear; the whole deal with the strips of metal over his abdomen, the green cape cascading over his shoulders and down his back, and the helmet with the horns. Nomatter how many times he wore that thing, it was still always unnervingly heavy. It also made his pacing only a tad bit slower, because he didn't want to accidentally trip and stab himself. Better safe than sorry (and bleeding profusely all over the floor).
He was pacing because Krishna hadn't appeared on his balcony yet. Already three times he'd been called for from the dining hall, and Loki had to make up a new excuse every time. He was running low on excuses. Hopefully he hadn't scared Krishna off with the ordeal in the vanity suite.
The very second that thought kicked his brain (which was hurting enough from the helmet), the girl jumped over the railing and landed effortlessly on the stone balcony. The very first thing Loki said to her was-
"You're not wearing the dress," He looked over her simple salwar kameez: a black, knee-length shirt with green and gold inflated pants underneath. Her bare feet chimed with trinkets as she walked toward him, pulling up her hair into a super-tight ponytail that slicked it away from her face. Then she slid a golden leaf clip over the band (no doubt a piece stolen from some unsuspecting Asgard citizen).
"You're right," She stopped short of him, looking him almost head-on. "I was never going to, actually. They can take me how I am." What a very Krishna thing to say. Paired perfectly with her arrogant attitude and confident strut.
"You don't think it's a little casual?" Though he had to give the outfit some credit. It set off her skin and painted arms perfectly. Maybe Loki was just a little bit biased, though, for pale skin.
"I wore my anklets!" Krishna justified, sticking one foot in the air for emphasis and then stumbling back. Balance wasn't really her niche. "That's fancy enough! And I wore your colors! What do I have to do for you to be happy with me?" Her eyes made contact with the sturdy golden horns on his head. "Ooh. Shiny..." She reached up slightly, extending her nimble fingers to try to slick them over the helmet. He slapped her hand away.
"You're late," It was like he was checking things off a list to yell at her for. "They've called for me - us - three times now."
"Why, Loki." Krishna sauntered forward, clasping her hands behind her back. "You weren't afraid that I wasn't going to show for our date, were you?" He narrowed one eye and a smirk worked over his mouth.
"Not a date."
"Last time I checked, a date was a few intimate friends taking time out to eat. So if this isn't a date, I would love you to tell me what it is." Krishna was smirking because she knew she was right, and she knew Loki knew it too - which was pretty much the best feeling ever. It wasn't too often you got to best Loki.
"Well, that's the catch, isn't it?" Loki's smirk was practically permanent at that point. "We aren't friends."
There was a miniature staredown between them. The birds nesting above the balcony seemed to peer into the room before they fluttered away in sheer terror.
"Still a date."
"Call it whatever makes you feel best." Loki held out one arm to offer her, and she took it graciously by slipping her arm through his and holding to the crook of his elbow. When they started to walk across the floor, however, Krishna's knees buckled and she cried out as she fell to the ground. She brushed herself off, stood back up, and took Loki's arm again.
"Don't say anything about it," Krish threatened with the way she inflected her tone, "I just climbed up a billion and a half balconies. It's a miracle my legs have worked this far."
"After tonight, there'll be no more climbing up balconies for you." Loki said as he opened the door for her to slip out into the hallway.
"You think they'll accept me, Loki?" She said as he closed the door to his chambers. He turned to look at her, standing there all exposed in the evening time. She brushed off the bottom of her shirt nervously and then looked back up to meet his gaze, wringing her hands.
He chuckled lightly and offered his arm again. "I don't think they've even accepted me yet." and they were off down the hallway with Loki's cape swishing behind to follow them up.
"We can be outcasts together." Krish put her other hand on Loki's arm and rested her head on his shoulder as they walked. "The awesome outcasts. Everyone else would be missing out on the sheer amazingness."
"The sheer green, black, and gold amazingness." Loki repeated. Krish smiled when he used her word. "Tell you what, Krishna," her smile only deepened when he said her name, revealing the minor dimple on the left side of her face. "I think I prefer the way you dressed after all."
"I'm walking down a hallway with the God of Mischief and Magic." Krishna said in soft disbelief.
"You're about to suffer through a dinner with him, too."