It had been two months since the sparring session Loki had treated Jóhanna to had ended in the servant blacking out. She was still a little sore, if she was completely honest. Her bones felt as though they'd snap if she worked herself too hard and her bruises were still fading, but they were yellowish blotches now, hinted with purple flecks as her tissue repaired itself.
Regardless of the fact that Loki obviously had it in for her – that he was trying his hardest to drive her out – Jóka was refusing to give up. She supposed it was because she was stubborn beyond comparison. That she refused to stand down in any argument or fight, whether she stood a chance or not.
Sighing, she slumped down onto her bed, her mind racing and-
"Dammit, Loki!" She shrieked, leaping off her bed again as it writhed with rats, "Why in my bed? That's disgusting!"
She heard a chuckle of amusement, which she presumed to be Loki, in her mind. Over the past few weeks, Loki had been able to access her thoughts through his magic, and had taken up the habit of conversing – well, mocking her – through this method. He loved to be able to feel and hear everything she was thinking at any time he wished to; it gave him a sense of superiority. The problem? Of course there was a problem, because nothing ever went completely soundly for Loki, did it?
The problem was that neither of them could switch it off. They heard and felt each other's presence at all times, meaning that they were to be extremely careful with what they were thinking. It was, by coincidence, the same way that Jóka had learned of Loki's paranoia, which she understood now, after being inside his head for so long. She also realized that Loki knew everything about her too, with them being connected like this. Some people probably would have thought it to bring them closer together, not make them snap at each other constantly.
Despite the irritating attitude they had towards each other, neither could bring themselves to give up. Both were stubborn; Loki wanted her to quit, so he didn't fire Jóka, and Jóka wanted Loki to fire her, so she didn't need to quit.
Loki smirked. His entrancing green eyes dancing as he looked as Jóka. His thin, pink lips turned up at the edges in an arrogant show of delight as he stared across at his servant. Jóhanna smiled softly.
They'd never really noticed how truly attractive the other was. Jóka's eyes dragged over Loki's slim, muscular figure, taking in every aspect of the God. He was, she realized, every bit worthy of his title. With a strong, defined jaw-line and slender lips, rosy and damp, he was beautiful. She wasn't sure if that was the correct term... Hel, she didn't even think there was a term to describe how inexplicably perfect the Asgardian before her was. He slouched in his armchair, legs parted widely and his wiry fingers ran over his top lip as if he were in deep thought. She noticed that the beautiful emerald eyes he gazed upon her with were still cold and hard. It sent a shiver down her spine, his fixation on her.
Like Jóhanna, Loki was looking her up and down in a new light. Sure, he had examined her before, but for nothing more than to assess her weaknesses and strengths. Her pale, smooth skin was hinted with the barest sign of a blush and her chocolaty eyes watched him intently. Her clothes were simple still, and she was no less ordinary than when he had first met her, but he noticed things in more detail than he had before... Her dark brown eyes bore golden flecks that burned with a look he hadn't often seen on a woman when she was looking at him, and she was laced with traced of scars. They didn't look raised or too different to the rest of her skin, but there were lines and patches of white skin gracing her shoulders, neck and legs, which were exposed because of her dress. He just wanted to caress her skin, make her forget about whatever had caused the scars...
Jóhanna stood dangerously close now, right in between Loki's legs. He felt warmer than usual, his heart picking up its pace by the second. His smile vanished and he pulled Jóka closer, pressing his lips forcefully against hers. He felt himself tighten, clearly aroused by the-
The dreamers jumped, waking themselves up as they did so. How could they have a dream like that? Of course they didn't feel like that, it was ridiculous...
"Girl!" Loki bellowed for the thousandth time that day. He was being especially cruel, Jóka thought. She acted as defiantly as ever, finding herself giving her master more attitude than usual. They were both different, but not noticeably so to anyone aside from each other.
Jóka hurried towards Loki, "What?" she asked, a lump rising in her throat when she noticed he was slouched, as he often was, in his armchair. She took a tentative step back when she noticed the situation mirrored something she wished she'd never dreamed.
"I..." It seemed as though the God had noticed something too, his position changed and he sat more upright and rigid in position. Denying his own dream. What would people think if something happened? Especially with her... He couldn't help but think it and hope that Jóka was too wrapped up in her own thoughts to realize what he was saying.
The Asgardian quickly regained composure, "I want you to run me a bath."
"Fine," came the sharp reply as Jóhanna fled his presence. As soon as she had gone, Loki relaxed his body, sprawling himself out across his chair again. He didn't know what to think. What sorcery was this, that he was feeling this for a mere servant girl? He wasn't an idiot. He knew how he felt; he wasn't oblivious to his own feelings. His fingers touched his upper lip subconsciously in thought.
Jóka's body eased slightly, the muscles less tense now that she was away. She couldn't believe that she had just frozen up when she had gotten so close to him. She was stronger than that, and she was already positive that it was another one of his ludicrous, cruel tricks to make her quit or go crazy.
Loki frowned, their thoughts had collided again. He hadn't done any such thing, and he wasn't entirely sure which of them had dreamt it. With what he could gather from Jóhanna's thoughts, she had felt everything from her own perspective, as he had felt everything from his; unusual, considering they both usually felt the exact same thing. If Jóka had felt the same thing as him, or vice versa, the situation would have been easier to control...
All Loki wanted to do now was discover the counter spell to the one he used on them. It hadn't been his priority before last night, but he couldn't stand knowing the fact they were dreaming like that about one another and living within such close proximity.
Jóka, he thought, forget the bath, I'm going to work on... Something.
The Asgardian hurried around his quarters, picking book after book from the library and placing them in Jóka's arms, each opened to a certain page. When he'd collected every book he needed, he rushed down to the gardens and started picking plants furiously, throwing them at his servant, much to her displeasure...