AN: Ah, before we get started, I do want to let you know that there are some dirty bits coming up, in case you want to avoid those or something. Additionally, in case you haven't already been driven off, the dirty scene does have a bit of dubious consent to it. It's not forceful and it's not violent, and it only lasts a paragraph or two until things are better again, but it's not 100% roses and candlelight, so, as always, if that's something that might trigger you, please don't hesitate to drop me a line and I can send you a version of this chapter with that part removed.
His mouth was on yours before the door had even clicked shut behind you, his hands grasping at your hips and pulling you up against his body as he walked you backwards. You stumbled a bit when the backs of your legs hit the side of his bed, but he merely lifted you up against his body and then guided you down onto the center of the mattress. He kept one arm around your back, pulling you closer, holding you tightly. His mouth traveled back down your neck, kissing and sucking and biting, and it didn't make sense to you that your body was reacting so strongly to his touch when just a few days ago you couldn't stand to be near him, but you threaded your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck and pulled tightly as you bit back another moan.
Did it matter?
His hand slipped between the two of you now, bunching your skirt up and creeping beneath it. The feel of his fingers against the inside of your thigh made you shiver, but not in the way you would have expected. You wanted more of this. Not even an hour before, you had been relieved to realize that you might not have to give yourself to the prince, and yet here you found yourself practically panting for his touch.
The shock of the thought made you pull away as much as you could and turn your head to the side to draw in a steadying breath, but the prince simply moved his mouth to your neck again, trailing his lips along your throat and jawline and up behind your earlobe. "Loki..." Your voice was laughable: hoarse and breathy. Finally you took his face in your hands and pushed him away just enough to break the spell he seemed to hold on you, though the patterns he was tracing on the tender skin of your thigh were still quite distracting. He looked at you questioningly. "I...I don't know what this...is." Yet again, your cheeks burned hot, and you couldn't look away. Of course you knew what this was. You just weren't sure what it meant. Would he laugh at you? Grow frustrated? Stalk away somewhere and leave you to your own devices?
Perhaps you should have known better by now. The corners of his lips curled up a little and he turned his head to kiss your palm. "Don't you?" The hand that rested between your legs moved higher now, and you could feel him brushing a finger against you through your knickers. Before you could think—or stop yourself, you were arching your hips to press still closer, needing without knowing exactly what you needed. "Let me show you."
The weight of his body was gone, then, and he was moving down the bed to settle between your legs. He pushed your skirts even higher. The exposure should have made you want to kick him away and run somewhere safer, but even when the chill air of the castle kissed your skin and he hooked his fingers through the top of your knickers, you couldn't find the desire to escape. He tugged them off of you and, presumably, let them drop to the floor beside the bed as he had done last night with your dress. Was this...when he'd asked if you'd wanted to go somewhere with more privacy, was he actually asking something entirely different? As always, he seemed to read your mind, and gave a short laugh as he pressed your knees apart.
"This is not what you think, gentle pet," he said, and the sight of him grinning up at you from between your legs made you want to hide your face. But he held your gaze as one slim finger sought, then found, entry. He was moving slowly, teasing you, and the look in his eyes promised that there would be much more before he was through. He lowered his face to kiss your stomach just below your navel and then—oh. Oh.
Your first instinct was to close your legs, push him away, cover yourself. Surely people didn't actually do things like that. It was a trick, and in a moment he would pull back and laugh at your lack of experience. But he kept one hand pressed against one of your knees—he would not let you close yourself off so easily—and moved his tongue against that most sensitive part of your body, and you decided that you didn't care if it was a trick or if he would laugh at you, because it felt...wonderful. He pulled you into his mouth and your fingers came down to grip in his hair.
He drew you close to the edge and let you slip backwards again, then added another finger and did it again. As time passed, your need (and frustration) mounted, until you were bucking your hips against his mouth and gasping out something wordless and pleading. Hazily, you remembered the first time he'd touched you, the strange demand, and fought to form the words he wanted to hear.
"Please."
He hummed a response, and his fingers twisted inside you in a way that was not quite enough. Your breath was erratic, your body thrumming with desperation. "Loki, please. Just let me come. I need..."
But you couldn't finish the sentence. You didn't need to. He hummed something else, and you couldn't be sure what he was saying, but it was finally enough. You shuddered and your fingers locked in his hair, but he didn't stop, didn't stop even as you rocked against him and rode out your climax.
When your breathing finally began to return to normal, you dragged your eyes open and realized that the prince was watching you intently. He grinned again and slipped his fingers into his mouth all without breaking eye contact with you. You couldn't speak—though even if you could, what would you have said? Your head fell backwards against the mattress and you let one arm flop across your eyes. Your whole body felt limp and mostly sated, though there was a fire still burning somewhere inside you. This was not over.
Loki stretched out above you once again, taking hold of your wrist to drag your arm away from your face. He kissed you, and you tasted yourself mixed with the now-familiar taste of his mouth. You couldn't stop a shiver from running the length of your body, but it was...it was good.
"Alright, pet?" His voice was low, and when you finally ventured a look at him, the heat in his eyes startled you yet again. You swallowed thickly and nodded. Why was it so difficult to find words? Hesitantly, you brushed your hand against his cheek.
He moved off of you, though he stayed on his side with his head propped up, still looking at you. There were no demands in his face, only interest and something like affection. You sucked your lower lip between your teeth to wet it, and his eyes followed the tiny motion hungrily. The air was heavy, heavy the way it had been before the dinner with the royal family, but this time you didn't feel the need to hide. This time all you could feel your answer, your body's answer to his unspoken question. Maybe it was because of the queen's revelation, or maybe it was because you were finally comfortable enough here, but you met the prince's gaze and remembered his words. His promise.
"Yes."
At first, his eyes narrowed with confusion, but as you watched, the realization flashed across his face. He was careful to hide it again, of course, as he reached over to smooth a lock of your hair behind your ear. "My lady?"
"Yes." Your voice was stronger now, even as your heartbeat quickened under the prince's sharp gaze.
"You're going to have to be more specific, pet. I cannot read your mind."
"I want it."
But still his face remained carefully blank. It made sense that he would make you speak the words aloud, but the idea was daunting.
"Loki. I want...you."
He smiled wryly, but otherwise kept his face the very picture of innocence. "So do many others. What makes you any different?"
With mounting frustration, you sat up and rubbed your eyes. Maybe you were not ready after all, if you could not bring yourself to say it directly. It was strange that someone in your position could still have so much pride, but the words would not come. Just as you were about to tell the prince that no, nevermind, there was nothing that made you any different, there was a gentle tug at the tie on the back of your gown.
"I want you too." The bed shifted—he was kneeling behind you now, and his fingers slowly unraveled the back of your dress. He sank his teeth carefully into your shoulder. "I've wanted you for a very long time." He squeezed your hips. "Stand up. Face me. Take it off." Wordlessly, you did as he asked, and though he had already seen you nude several times before, you could not watch his face as the dress fell into a puddle around your feet. There was a rustling, and the prince's tunic joined it on the floor. He slid off of the bed and pulled you into his arms.
"You are certain?" He cupped your breast in the palm of his hand and rolled your nipple beneath his thumb. You nodded, but knew that would not be enough for him, so you raised your eyes to meet his.
"Yes, my prince. Please." Despite your nerves, you found yourself smiling at him. He moved his hand from your breast to your cheek and stooped slightly to kiss you.
"Undress me, then." He rested his forehead against yours. His eyes were dark and yet...reassuring, somehow. He waited patiently this time as you fumbled with his belt, and when you pushed his trousers down to his ankles, you sank to your knees at his feet. This was the first time you had seen him completely nude, and the sight took your breath away. You looked up at him along the length of his body, and without a word you took him into your mouth.
His hand came down to grip your shoulder as you swirled your tongue along his length and worked him in and out of your mouth. As before, he filled your senses—the way he smelled, the way he tasted, the way he was twitching and throbbing in your mouth: it was almost overwhelming. With one hand wrapped around the base of his cock and the other gripping his hip, you did your best to bring him to the edge the way he had done for you. Just as you were falling into a rhythm and listening for the pleasured growls that you knew would rumble through his chest, he pushed you away.
"If you want to go through with this," he managed in a strained voice. "You have to stop now."
He extended a hand to help you to your feet, then lifted you onto the mattress. This was going to happen. Now it was your turn to offer your hand in invitation. Because as quickly as your heart was racing, there was no hesitation within it. Loki positioned himself between your legs once again and closed his mouth over yours. You could feel him pressing against your entrance, and at first it was good, but then a sharp pain stabbed through your recently-pleasured limbs and you fought back a cry.
Something was wrong. You had made a mistake.
"No..." You pushed against his chest, hands turning into claws as you fought to push him off of you. "Loki, it hurts. Stop..."
He responded by gripping your wrists in his hands and pinning them to the mattress on either side of your head. "No. You asked for this, and I am not going to stop until we are finished." And the intrusion did not stop. He was pushing his way into you, through resisting flesh, and though you struggled against him, his grasp held. Was it always like this? Perhaps the warnings you had grown up hearing were not necessarily about remaining pure, but about putting off this pain for as long as possible? "It always hurts at first, love, just give it time."
How could you give it time? True, it was hardly the worst pain you had ever felt, but the intimacy of this made it all the more terrible. You were open and vulnerable to the prince. You were at his mercy. And you had asked for it. You had asked him to do this to you, practically begged for it. But then, was this not what he had intended all along? You had to choke back the sob that rose in your chest, but stopped fighting him and did your best to merely remain still on the mattress. After a moment he stopped, and you realized that his hips were finally pressing against yours.
"Open your eyes." It was a command, but his voice was soft. In any case, it made you realize that you had clenched your eyes shut in order to block him out. You eased them open, and were surprised to find that the prince's brow was wrinkled with concern. "Does it still hurt?"
He moved cautiously, almost imperceptibly, and as he did, the pain began to lessen. Even more remarkable, as it did, a strange pleasure was taking its place. Your body was adapting, stretching to accommodate your prince, and as he moved, he was stoking the embers that still burned inside you. Slowly, almost disbelieving, you shook your head.
He released your wrists, then, and supported himself on his elbows in order to hold your face in both hands. "Do you still want to stop?"
You reached up to smooth your fingertips along his eyebrows and down his cheeks as you considered it. What was done was done, wasn't it? And if you were past the worst part, why shouldn't he continue? And...if you were very honest with yourself...you still wanted it. So you dragged the prince's mouth down to meet yours and kissed him as hard as you could before your shyness took over again and you pulled back. You shook your head again. "Forgive me, Loki."
"Nothing to forgive," he replied as he slowly withdrew from you, only to ease his way back in. There was less pain this time, and soon the only thing you felt as he moved within you was a slick heat and a growing desire. Your moans returned, escaping unchecked as he took you slowly but thoroughly. "That's better," he murmured against your skin. "I'd rather hear my lady's pleasure than her fear any day."
"Loki..." You turned your face away to try to escape his words, but couldn't hide your smile. Were people supposed to talk during something like this? Though he was the prince, so perhaps if he wished to talk, he would do it regardless. He followed your lips with his and captured them in another searing kiss before reaching down to brush his thumb against you. The touch sent you spiraling closer and closer to another climax with each thrust, and soon you were clutching his shoulders and murmuring his name without meaning to. When you finally came around him, he sank his teeth into your skin where your neck met your shoulders and the pain was just enough to draw out and accent the sweet torture that flooded through your body.
Your muscles had not even begun to relax after your own climax when the prince was growling something against your skin. His movements became jerky, uncoordinated, and after several more hard thrusts he dropped his head to your shoulder, breathing hard against your skin. You stroked his back and found yourself trying to memorize all the little twitches and stretches of the muscles you felt there.
The next time the prince moved, it was to pull himself away and collapse on his back beside you. You turned onto your side to study him, and realized with a pang that your nails had apparently cut into his skin—four half-moons glowed crimson against the pale top of each shoulder. You reached out your hand to touch them apologetically, and he turned his head to examine them as well.
"Welcome battle wounds," he said. Were you blushing? Did it matter? He caught your hand with his and tugged lightly until your head was on his chest as it had been last night. You shaped your body against his and, feeling bold, draped your arm across his stomach to hold him to you. He responded by tightening his arm around your shoulders, a welcome and peaceful embrace after...well, that. It was then that you realized you could hear his heart beating beneath your ear, and you laid there in silence for a while, listening and breathing and trying not to think about what this would change.
Loki seemed to have fallen asleep by the time your next thought struck you. His seed. Your whole body jolted as you realized that you had taken no precautions. His fingers combed through your bed-mussed hair, reminding you that of course he had not fallen asleep.
"Are you hurt?" he asked.
"My lord, what if I should become... that is... Sire, what if there is a child?"
"Then there will be a child." His voice was languid, lazy. Of course he would not be as concerned as you. "It will make my mother happy, in any case." You could hear the smile in his voice, but it did nothing to calm the churning in your stomach. "What? You will not be sent away. Surely you have come to understand that by now."
"Of course." But even that knowledge would not dismiss your fears. It was not the banishment you feared, anyway. You were no mother. You'd had no practice, no kind motherly figure in your life. What would you do with a child, assuming you even survived the birth?
The prince must have found your silence dissatisfying, because you felt him move to get a better look at you. You simply closed your eyes and tried to focus on listening only to his heartbeat.
"My lady, what are you afraid of?"
"Childbirth is dangerous." It was enough of an answer. Part of you was sorry you had even brought the subject up. If it was the prince's will that you bear his child, you could hardly argue very strongly against it. If it was nature's will that you even conceive a child, how could you stop it at this point? He stroked your cheek, tugged affectionately on your hair.
"Your mother. You fear it because it took her from you." It should not have been so shocking to you that he would remember that, but your eyes still opened wide with surprise. At least he could not see your face. "I will summon the best physicians in all of Asgard. They will not leave your side until you are well again. No one, not even death, will take you from me. Darling, do not be so frightened."
It was easier said than done. Still, you swallowed hard and nodded against his chest, though you would not raise your head to look at him. If you had trusted your voice, you probably should have been thanking him, but instead you worried your lower lip between your teeth. It was best to change the subject, or else let the silence stretch on between you, because it seemed wrong to provoke an argument after all that had just happened.
But of course the prince was not to be fooled. His chest heaved with a sigh and he wound his fingers through your hair. "My lady is not convinced."
You didn't speak. You couldn't speak. What was there to say?
"There is a plant in my mother's garden," he finally said. "Any woman who eats the leaves will not conceive a child. I will have it brought to you every day until you are less nervous. Does that sound better?" His voice was low and tinged with a note of amusement. You did not even bother to try to hide your relief as you tightened your arm around him in an embrace.
"Yes. Thank you." You raised your head to look up at the prince, who was studying you with concern in his eyes. When he caught you looking, his face smoothed into an easy smile, and you couldn't help but wonder how many other people had ever seen him looking like this. He was so relaxed, and his face was so...open and unlike any other time you'd ever seen him. You couldn't help yourself: you stretched up and kissed him—not hard or intensely, as that seemed like it might ruin the moment. You kissed him because you weren't quite sure how else to say what you wanted to say.
It seemed like he understood. He stroked the back of your neck and made no effort to deepen the kiss, and released you when you moved to rest your head on his shoulder again. But after only a few more moments, the feeling of lying there in bed with various bodily fluids drying on your skin finally overcame the feeling of lying there beside the prince, and you had to sit up. "I should...clean up a bit, sire."
"Wait." He closed his fingers around your wrist and looked at you thoughtfully. "I have a better idea. Just put your dress on, and come with me."
What was he planning? You studied him and tried not to narrow your eyes in suspicion. Was he going to parade you all over the palace with his seed still coating your thighs? Was that how he would demonstrate his...his ownership of you? Perhaps this had been an even bigger mistake than you had initially thought. It was true that realistically, you had no way to refuse him—not without making him angry or spoiling the moment—but at the same time, it was still difficult to accept that this would be your new life. It was mortifying...and sticky.
"Trust me." He sat up and retrieved your dress from the floor. "Put it on."
Still wary, you slid off of the bed and dressed, careful not to stain the fine silk. You struggled for a moment to fasten the back of the dress, but before long, you could feel Loki's elegant fingers gliding along your back. He pulled at the strings, and pressed his lips to your shoulder. "Breathe, pet." It was his turn to slide off the bed, and you kept your eyes fixed on the ground as he dressed. When he was finally finished, he held out his hand to you.
When you didn't take it, he stooped and took your hand in his, tugging lightly. "Come. I promise it will not be as bad as you're telling yourself it will be." You looked up at him now, and he flashed you a dazzling grin that seemed to confirm his promise. At the very least, your dress was long enough that people wouldn't actually see anything. With a sigh that you tried (and likely failed) to hide, you allowed him to pull you to your feet and lead you out into the corridor.
"Sometime soon I will arrange for a servant to teach you the palace, so that you may move about freely. Perhaps after dinner. But until then, I have other plans." He kept his fingers laced through yours as you walked, and you did begin to recognize the path as being the same one you'd taken to the garden before. Sure enough, you eventually stepped outside and had to blink several times before your eyes adjusted to the harsh light of the midday sun.
Loki led you to the pond in the middle of the garden, though this was apparently a different side. You were far from the wooden platform, and the ground sloped gradually into the water, turning from brilliant grass to a rich mud. None of this still made any sense to you—not until the prince started to pull his tunic up over his head.
"It's more fun than a bath," was the only explanation he offered you as he dropped his clothing into a pile in the grass.
Swimming. You shook your head vigorously and took a few more steps away from the water for good measure. "My lord, I told you I cannot swim. Please, don't make me."
"I can teach you," he said simply. "It is easy. My brother and I have spent many long afternoons in the water." Without waiting for another word from you, he closed the distance between you and tugged at the ties on your dress. "You'll want to remove this, though, or it might weigh you down once it's gotten wet." He started to pull it down over your shoulders, but you crossed your arms in front of your chest defensively.
"Please don't, my lord. Anyone could see. And I do not like the water. I'll watch you swim instead. Or I could just come and...stand in the water."
"Everyone knows not to look at you, pet, and you want to clean yourself, don't you? Look at all this water waiting for you. Lower your arms."
He was still smiling, but there was an edge to his voice, a warning. As kind and caring as the prince had been to you lately, the fact remained that he was still a prince, and thus unaccustomed to being denied. Still you hesitated, thinking about what might happen if you insisted upon staying dry. He might throw you into the pond anyway, or perhaps lock you back up in your room. With a shaky sigh, you clenched your eyes shut but let your arms fall to your sides. He guided the dress down your body, and tossed it aside as well. You felt his hands come up to cover your breasts from behind, and he breathed hot against your ear: "Good girl."
You stood there for a few more moments, neither of you moving, until finally you felt him nudging your knees forward. "Into the water. We will go as slowly as you'd like."
With your eyes still closed tightly, you began to take very small steps toward the water. Warm mud squelched around your toes, and then you could feel the water start to lick at your ankles. It was hard, but you managed to keep your breathing steady, even as you felt the water rise up to your knees, and then your thighs, and finally your waist. It was warm, but you couldn't help but shiver.
"Did you watch your best friend drown, my lady? Did your brother throw you into a well when you were younger?" You might have expected him to sound irritated or mocking, but his voice was even.
"No," you answered, a bit defensively. You swallowed hard. "I merely never learned to swim. The only water in my village comes from a small stream with very swift waters. All of the children are taught to avoid it. We have no need of knowing how to swim."
He pushed you just a little bit further into the water, and soon it was up to your shoulders. At least your breasts would be covered. His touch slipped away, and then you felt him walk around to stand in front of you and extend his arms. "Now come to me."
But as you walked forward to obey, he kept moving backwards, until you could just barely touch the bottom of the water with your tip-toes. Without thinking about it, you began treading water to try to keep your head above, kicking off of the bottom to move faster. Your frustration grew along with your panic, but he stopped and swam forward just as you were about to beg him to stop. "Take a deep breath and relax," he said as he placed one hand on the small of your back and the other on your shoulder. Was he going to force you under? You gulped in several deep breaths just in case, and tried not to cry out as he guided you backwards, but you were able to relax just slightly as you realized that he was keeping his hand firmly against your back. Soon you realized that he was helping you to float. Little rivulets of water streamed down your breasts as they emerged from the surface of the pond, and you instinctively reached to cover yourself, but you started to sink almost immediately, so you had to move your arms away again.
"We are far from dry land, my lady, and even farther from the palace. There is no one here to admire your beauty except for me. Your modesty will remain intact, I assure you."
Still, your cheeks burned as you continued taking deep, even breaths. As time went by, you were even able to feel almost comfortable in the water. Just then, Loki took hold of one of your arms and pulled it up over your head in the water. "To move, force your hands down through the water in whatever direction you wish to go. Like this," and then he demonstrated. You dipped down in the water momentarily, but mimicked the motion with the arm he was not holding. You moved! It took you a few more tries to find a fluid motion, but soon you were paddling through the water with some amount of ease. You sat up and went back to treading water so that you could look at your prince. He was watching you with no small amount of pride etched on his features. "You've got it."
"I'm...a fast learner." You weren't entirely sure what to say in response to that.
"I know that." He smirked, and despite the water cooling on your face, you could feel your cheeks start to burn.
Eager to change the subject, you cast about for something else to say. "How deep is this water, anyway?"
Without a word, the prince sank below the surface. At first, everything seemed fine—he was probably going down to touch the bottom or stand up or something, to show you. But eventually the water around the place where he disappeared grew still and calm, undisturbed even by air bubbles breaking the surface. Something cold and steely settled in the pit of your stomach, something stronger than the panic you'd felt when you first walked into the water. This was different.
"Loki?" Your voice cracked as you called his name and fought to peer into the murky water around you. No response, of course. Something brushed against your ankle and you fought the scream that rose in your throat, telling yourself that it was just one of the fish you'd seen in the water before. Did they only light up at night? If only they would do it now, so you could see deeper into the water, see whether the prince was in distress nearby. It didn't matter much that he had spent so much time in the water if his foot had suddenly gotten wedged under a rock or something, did it? You kicked your feet, kicking to keep your head above the water as you groped blindly through the depths. "Loki!"
The panic was choking you now, and you yelped when that fish brushed against your foot again. A part of you felt terrible for undoubtedly kicking the poor thing away, but you had bigger things to worry about. Like the prince drowning. Like being blamed for the prince's death. You stopped kicking and let yourself sink into the water, but it was too dark to see anything, and it stung your eyes. Still, you tried again and again, circling the place where you thought he had gone under and trying not to think about how you would get him to the surface if you found him. You could barely keep yourself afloat—how would you be able to rescue him? And forget about trying to pull him to shore: you were, in fact, incredibly far from dry land, let alone from the palace or anyone who could help you.
Finally, you had to give up searching for him, and fought your way back to the surface. After you had sucked in enough air to stop your lungs from burning, you started to make your way to dry land. Maybe if you shouted loud enough, ran fast enough, you could find someone who was better at swimming than you and who could possible rescue him before he succumbed to the water. It took a few moments, but soon you realized that you were not actually going anywhere. Something was wrapped around your ankle and was actually pulling you away from the shore. You choked back a scream and reached under the water to claw at whatever was holding you. It was cold and...fleshy? Definitely not plant material. Were there other creatures hiding in the depths? There was no way it was one of those light-fish things: they were too small, and this too large. Still, you dug your nails into whatever it was, but it held tight. You kicked with your free leg, and connected firmly with something large and solid, and finally felt its grasp loosen.
Before you could head back towards land, however, it burst up through the water and wrapped itself around you, pulling you down under with it You gasped in surprise before you could stop yourself, and just enough water filled your lungs to make you choke. It felt like it held you under for ages, though if your mind had been working rationally, and not racing with adrenaline, you probably would have realized it was only a second or two. Finally, it dragged you back into the sweet, fresh air of the garden, and though your heart was racing and your head was spinning, you finally realized what had been terrorizing you.
"Loki," you sputtered, and pummeled his chest with your shaking fists until he released you and backed away from you in the water. "What were you doing?" You were practically screaming, and the fact that you had just hit the royal prince—repeatedly—did not even faze you. He held up his arms as though in surrender.
"It's alright, darling. It was a joke."
"Some joke!" You made several pathetic attempts at splashing him before you started to sink under the water and had to start treading water again. "I thought you were drowning."
He laughed and reached for you, but you did your best to swim out of reach. Finally, he seemed to realize that you were not joining him in his laughter. "Were you really that frightened?" He swam closer, but, to his credit, did not reach out to you again.
There was really no point in lying, as the question was largely rhetorical anyway. You sighed as your heart rate slowly returned to normal. "Yes."
Now he would unquestionably smirk at you, maybe say something like "So it turns out you do like me a little bit after all" or "But if I died, you would be free to go back home," and you would either have to avoid looking at his face or reveal that you were actually beginning to enjoy living with him at the palace. It was a stroke of luck that you were getting tired already, drained from your desperate flailing through the water—it would make it easier to merely duck your head and take whatever gloating he decided to do.
But he remained silent for a long time, allowing the sounds of the water and the various creatures around you to fill in for him. Tired of treading water, you drew in another deep breath and floated on your back. That was better. The water filled your ears, but it wasn't as though there was really all that much to listen to, and now that you didn't have to fight to stay above the water, you were actually able to relax again.
After you had been floating there for a while with your eyes closed, focusing on nothing but the sound of your breathing and the water around you, you felt something touch you, so feather-light that you couldn't be positive that it was not just a tickle against your skin. You opened one eye and saw that it was Loki, trailing his fingertips from your navel and up between your breasts, and then back down again. When he met your eyes, he dropped his hand back into the water and said something, but you couldn't make it out over the water in your ears.
"My prince?" You sat up again and shook your head. "I did not hear you."
Did he look...uncomfortable? Surely that was just a trick of the light reflecting off of the water. "I said, I am sorry. My intentions were not to frighten you."
"Well...you did." Your voice fell flat as you responded, but he accepted the answer with the slightest incline of his head.
"Apologies. Would you like to go back now? You seem exhausted."
Some small and defiant part of you wanted to tell him that you were perfectly fine, that you felt you could keep swimming for hours and hours. But the truth was that you were, in fact, exhausted. That had been more than enough water for one day. So you just bit your lip and nodded, and he turned to swim towards shore. You lagged behind somewhat, but kept up for the most part, despite the heaviness that was settling into your body.
It wasn't until you were standing up out of the water that you realized you had no way to dry off. You crossed your arms in front of yourself to hide your breasts as you looked around uncomfortably. It would probably be easy for Loki to squirm back into dry clothes while still dripping wet, but with your ridiculous dress, it would be practically impossible.
You continued to hold one arm across your chest, but used your other hand to try to wipe some of the water off of your skin. It worked, but only just, and soon Loki noticed. You knew because you could hear him chuckle, and then he handed you his tunic. "Here, use this. I did not think to bring anything to dry with. My brother and I do not share your fear of being seen. We usually let the sun dry us."
You looked up to make sure he was serious before you accepted the piece of clothing. It worked a little better than your hand did, at least. You gave it back with a shy smile and stooped to pick up your dress, maintaining eye contact all the while. "Thank you, my lord."
It was hard to look away. He was as pale as ever, but the water coating his skin caught the light of the sun and glistened in a way that caught you off guard. He did not look sick, like the one frail boy you had known in the village who spent most of his time confined to his bed. There was a healthy glow to him, and you were struck by the rather embarrassing desire to taste it, to run your tongue along his bicep or up his chest. You turned away hastily to hide your blush.
Soon enough, you felt your prince's fingers pulling at the ties on your dress once again. When he was finished, he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. "How can I earn my lady's forgiveness?"
His voice sounded so sincere, so contrite, that even though you reminded yourself that he was renowned for his pranks and lies—not to mention his silver tongue—you allowed yourself to believe that he was being truthful. So you closed your hands around his and let your eyes slip closed as you leaned into him. "You are forgiven, my lord. I know...it was not intentional."
Upon hearing your words, Loki spun you around to face him and cupped your face in his palms as he kissed you with more sweetness than you would have expected. One arm moved down around your waist, to pull you closer against his body, and you slid your arms up around his neck. He nipped at your lower lip until you granted him access to your mouth, and then he growled softly against you. It was dizzying to be so close even after what had transpired in his quarters, and you could not even bring yourself to care who might have been watching.
Suddenly, it hit you—a realization so sudden that you had to pull away from the kiss. You hid your face in the prince's shoulder and hugged him tightly. You had hit him. You had assaulted the prince. For anyone else, that would certainly be a death sentence. Even the knowledge of your position above certain rules did not stop the blood from rushing through your ears.
"What has happened now?" His arms tightened around you though, opting to offer comfort rather than try to study your face.
"I am sorry for attacking you in the water," you mumbled against his skin. He smelled wonderful as always, the damp fabric of his tunic sun-warmed and earthy, mingling with the exotic and intoxicating smell of his skin. His laughter vibrated through his chest against your ear and he pressed his lips against your temple.
"You are forgiven," he laughed, smoothing his fingers through your wet hair. "I think some would say I deserved it."
You smiled to yourself: you could not entirely disagree.
"Now that we've both been forgiven, perhaps we should make our way back into the palace to get ready for dinner. Mother has asked that you join us again tonight, of course."
You nodded quietly, though the thought of facing that woman again knowing her intentions—and the knowledge that she knew you knew of her intentions—made your stomach twist. Nothing had changed, not really. It was just...so nervewracking. She could change her mind at any moment, after all, or Loki could change his, or some noblewoman from another land could come to take your place, or... You looked up. Loki was looking at you with amusement. Right. You ventured a smile and nodded, placing your hand in his and allowing him to lead you back into the palace.