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Wicked, Again

Not much had changed since I had woken up that morning, still wrapped in Loki's arms, and yet everything was different.

I was still engaged to Kvass, I still performed dutifully at whatever event my parents needed me to appear, I still smiled and nodded and made meaningless conversation as I was expected to do.
Now, though, there was the secret and despite the emotional turmoil it forced me into, nothing could have made me happier. It was hard to pinpoint, why exactly my heart swelled whenever Loki was near - there was not one single thing that earned my affections.

He made me feel special. My brother could be so harsh with others, but he was gentle and kind with me. He used to kick his girls out as soon as he was satisfied, but I was allowed in his bed. It seemed to me, that nothing and no one else could pull his attention from me.

Even now I could feel his gaze on me.
I was not a very social person and I had never entertained many friendships. Whenever some girl or other had attempted befriending me, it had left a bitter taste in my mouth - somehow, their attempts did not ring true. People had always whispered behind my back - calling me a witch being the friendliest term circulating - and those girls were no different.
Still, every now and again, my mother decided that I required company. Today was one of those days and so I sat in the garden, surrounded with courtiers' daughters.

They mostly chatted amongst each other and I put a good face on the matter. It was no secret to me that Mother liked to watch - she was strolling through the gardens casually, as if on an unrelated journey, and Loki had joined her. His presence was unmistakable to me and I would not have needed the visual conformation to know he was here.
As it was, the sight of him was not entirely unwelcome, even though he was smirking at me.

One of the girls around me sighed suddenly. Eostre's round face had taken on a dream-like expression. "He always seems so... sinister," she said, while the rest of the group turned to see who she was referring to.

"It's because he's sour," Nanna said, brushing her long, red hair back over her shoulder. "He looks like he never has fun."

Eostre sighed again, shaking her head slightly. "Maybe he just needs the right incentive."

My stomach clenched at her words and before I could think on it, my mouth was already talking. "I believe my brother holds up just fine, thank you very much."

She looked taken aback for a moment and then the whole group burst into giggles. I frowned at them, but my annoyance only lasted for a moment - amusement built within me and it took me a bit to realize it was not my own.
Loki was not looking in my direction, but his grin was unmistakable even as he continued talking to our mother. It made a smile spread on my lips at once.

While the rest was still watching Loki, the youngest of them turned to me. Sigyn was not exactly ugly, but she was quite plain - her hair more brown than blonde and her eyes a washed-out blue.
"I still think he's handsome," she said. "Fun or not."

Nanna rolled her eyes, but Eostre nodded eagerly. It was a true miracle, how out of the three of them, the only one who would even come close to having a chance was the one who did not want my brother. Sigyn and Eostre with their common place appearances would never even be looked at twice.
Of course, I honestly hoped that Loki would not look twice at anyone but me, though I dreaded to know if I was right in doing so or not. I was engaged and Loki would not remain unmarried forever, either. The thought made me sick.

"Maybe," Sigyn said, "You can introduce us."

This time, Loki met my eyes when I looked to him. One of his eyebrows quirked in question, clearly anticipating whatever answer I came up with.

"I'd rather not," I answered. "I imagine he would have very little patience for the likes of you and I don't want to embarrass myself."

Both of them looked insulted while Nanna started giggling. Across the garden, Loki was shaking his head at me in fake disappointment. On the inside, his amusement filled me with joy, doubled up by the fact that we were both feeling it, feeding from one another. When I felt like this, it was easy to ignore that our happiness could not last forever.

Loki was still joyous when we met late that night and his good mood was making me giggle even as he pressed me into the mattress beneath him.

"You've done so well, my love," he whispered hotly before bending down to suckle on my neck. He would have to heal the mark before I left in the morning so no one would see, but he nevertheless enjoyed the act and I let him.

"I don't know," my sentence was interrupted by a breathy moan when he bit down, the sensation just short of painful. "What you mean."

He chuckled lazily when he released my skin. "Right," he said as his lips trailed further down my body. "I like you like that... that catty."

I swatted at him, but he caught my hand easily and pushed - gently, but determinedly - until he held it down above my head. I struggled a bit, but it did not bother him at all. Instead, a finger of his free hand started lazily circling my nipple. Struggling was forgotten, then.
"I'm not catty," I said.

Loki hummed, his breath caressing the sensitive skin, making it harden and tingle. "You mustn't let people walk all over you," he said. "It's just fine to protect what's yours."

My mind slammed to a stop and not just because his lips had closed around the tips of my breasts - was this what he was? Mine?
I did not get around to asking him.

There were a lot of things we did not talk about, either way - like the horrible guilt I felt whenever he was not around.
Because, if we were honest, we should be ashamed. What we did was not normal, in fact, it was forbidden, a crime even. Should our relationship ever become public knowledge, Father would have no other chance but to punish us.
For good reasons, too, for even the thought of someone else indulging in what we did made me sick. Surely, we were already condemned and would spend eternity in Hel when the time came.

I felt terrible, my soul twisting every time I thought of what I was doing and yet, when Loki was there, the happiness would overwhelm me. It made everything so much worse once he left again for I felt that I was too weak to do the right thing.
It was like my heart had split in two - one part desiring to be good and the other desiring to be happy. The two seemed irreconcilable.

Besides, there still was Kvass. He had apologized repeatedly and profusely for his behaviour at the ball and I had graciously forgiven him, but it did not change the way I felt about him. It was most unjust, especially to him, who was so excited for our wedding.
To make trouble worse, my parents had decided that he should go along to public appearances with me. There was not a single event where I would show up without him - it became tiring trying to escape him after a while.

Today as well, he accompanied me. I was due in the town's orphanage by request of the elderly woman thad led the place. Asgard, as such did not have very many orphans; there were not very many children in general and even less who lost both parents.
Therefore, most of the children came from other realms - from Vanaheim, for example, where a lot of people still died out of simple hunger or from Alfheim, which was plagued by invasions.

"I think this is by far the nicest assignment to date," Kvass commented while my father's guards led us through the city. "Don't you agree, my lady?"

I detested going into the city and I detested speaking to the people. That day of the fair, so many centuries ago, was not forgotten, not by me nor by them.

At my hum of response, Kvass turned in his steps to frown at me. "Do you not like children?"

"I never much thought of it," I said, which was the truth - I did not want to think of it, either. I wondered what it would be like, seeing my children bear Kvass' features... my heart clenched at the thought that maybe the would bear another's features. It was possible, after all.

"Well, I have," he said and nodded to me. "And I think our children will be beautiful."

Maybe we could pass any resemblance off - Loki and I were siblings after all, no one would suspect. As long as they did not inherit the black hair. That, I was certain, would rouse suspicion.

"Don't you agree?" Kvass urged, but I was saved from responding because we arrived at our destination.
It was an old house, but painted in a variety of colours, which made it appear more homely than it actually was. Laughter and good-natured screams were pressing outwards even through the closed windows. I had never been very loud as a child and would probably have been reprimanded for screaming.

The doors were thrown open and an aged, chubby woman stepped out, one who had to be the leader of the house. She radiated a motherly warmth and it made me wary. What had I done to earn that sympathetic smile?
For once, I was glad that Kvass was with me - he was so much more sociable than I was and answered the lady's smile and her questions with ease and eagerly.

"Momma!" a small voice called suddenly. "Look, it's the witch!"

It was a small boy, barely reaching up to my hips and his face shone with nothing but pure excitement - I could detect no hint of contempt in his features. His words were but carelessly uttered, as children would, but they still stung.
The boy moved forward, towards me, but the mistress grabbed him before he could reach me and swung him around so he faced the entrance again.

"Now, none of that," she said. "Go back to your mother - I apologize, your highness-"

But by now, the mother had arrived in the doorway. She was a Light Elf - her long silver hair and pointy ears gave her away. Yet she looked nothing like the Light Elves I had encountered thus far. They were always fair, standing high and walking lightly and elegantly. This woman whoever, crouched, almost bent double and her face was riddled with wrinkles and the occasional scar.
If anyone had ever looked unhealthy, this woman surpassed them.

"Your highness," the headmistress started again. "We have visitors from Alfheim-"

"Momma is very sick," the little boy said, turning his wide eyes back to me.

"She's bringing me the boy," the headmistress said. "So he has a place to stay when she-"

The mother hobbled forward, reaching out to me. When she spoke, her voice was as wrinkled as her face. "Please, your highness," she croaked. "We have heard of you - of your great talent with magic. People speak of you in all the Nine Realms."

Firstly, I was sure that was a lie, and secondly, it did not make me happy. In fact, her words left a sour taste in my mouth. People were not only calling me a witch here in Asgard, but everywhere in the Nine Realms. There appeared to be no escape.

"Momma says you can make people healthy again," the little boy said and I realized exactly where this was going.

They wanted me to heal her. I was not entirely sure that I would be capable to do so - and I knew that off spells could do make matters worse rather than better.
Father would be so angry if I failed - in fact, he would probably be angry whatever I did. He thought it unseemly to practice magic in public, especially when I did.

Also, I really, really despised it when people called me a witch. It was unjust and rude and overall displeasing. People accepted my help and then turned around and talked about me as if I was some diabolical sorceress come to hunt them down.

"Please," the mother uttered again. "I cannot leave him alone..."

Everyone was staring at me - the headmistress appeared apologetic and Kvass was looking at me with excitement. I had not known how he felt about my magic, but apparently, he was not too put off. While that made me feel slightly better, it did not change the overall situation.
If I did this and failed at the attempt, a witch would be by far the nicest thing people said about me. There was a high chance that I failed, too - I could mend broken bones and close wounds and maybe help against infections. But still, that was a mere scrap of Eir's skills.

"No," I said.

"My lady please," the mother urged me - as she stumbled forward, she actually fell on her knees in front of me. "Please-"

I swallowed against the lump in my throat. "Go to the Healing Chambers if they'll have you, but do not bother me with it."

"Eirlys," Kvass said, reaching out for me. "If you would think about it-"

"I said no," I told him, my voice a lot sharper than intended. If only Loki were here - he might have given me the confidence to try or he would have, at least, understood my refusal.

Kvass, on the other hand, was shaking his head at me, disappointment clearly written on his face. "I knew you were a witch," he said slowly. "But I never thought you were wicked."

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