Christie was hoping that she looked presentable enough. She had fixed her long icy white locks into a twisty low bun secured in place with a whole load of pins, a process that caused her many minutes of irritable explicits and shaky hands. She wore a beautiful ivory dress which comprised of a tight bodice and a pure white ankle-length chiffon skirt which flowed wonderfully in the gentle wind. Once she reached the Palace Balconies, she noticed that awaiting her was a pure marble table, perfect for two. She sat down on one of the cushioned chairs awkwardly, patiently waiting for Loki to turn up. Realistically she was only waiting for a few minutes, but it felt like a good few hours - when all of a sudden she heard a clear voice saying,
"You made it."
Christie turned her head to the source that she assumed was behind her, but to her confusion, no one was there. She turned back around again to suddenly see Loki sitting opposite her, grinning mischievously yet again. It made her jump, hard - and it took a lot for that to happen.
"Holy crap, you sure seem to enjoy doing that, huh?" she panted as she attempted to compose herself with a flush.
"I do. How's your…?" Loki trailed off innocently, nudging his head in the direction of her hands that were resting on top of each other on the table. Christie glared at him, raising an eyebrow at how amused this was clearly making him.
"Well the pain's gone - not much thanks to you, I have to say," she muttered, also glancing down at her slightly reddened hand.
"I'm sorry," Loki told her honestly, his eyes genuinely looking sincere this time. "I must admit, I keep forgetting that you're Midgardian. The pain tolerance for your people happens to be much lower."
"Oh, the joys of being Midgardian right?" Christie rolled her eyes, before turning her head to look across the balcony edge to the beautiful waters twinkling below them. Loki raised an eyebrow in wonder. He had never met someone as sarcastic as himself before, and for it to come from a woman both intrigued and confused him.
"Indeed. I'm sorry - where exactly do you hail from?" he asked casually, locking his fingers together and carefully resting his chin on top of them. Christie turned her head to look at him properly again.
"England - you wouldn't know it," she answered shortly, trying her hardest not to say anything stupid that could blow her cover.
"I see. So then, how did you get here? I've seen it happen more than once now and it appears to be more and more frequent," Loki frowned, trying to connect the dots.
"Why does it matter so much?" Christie shot back almost immediately, noticing that he was growing increasingly suspicious. Loki said nothing in response - instead he raised an eyebrow in blatant scepticism.
"Hm. And how long are you planning to stay here for?" he finally asked after a few moments of pondering silence, not breaking eye contact once.
"I can't answer that, so let's just say 'indefinitely'," Christie muttered back carefully. Loki's mossy green eyes were studying her so intently that she slowly felt herself weaken under his gaze. This was unusual for her. Her heart was closed because she had trained it to be. Her emotions were locked away because she had trained them to be. So why did it feel like that hard exterior she had worked so hard to build was beginning to melt away, like a block of ice left on the picnic table during an afternoon in August? The intensity of Loki's gaze was growing - she had to divert the conversation, clearing her throat and sitting up straighter. "So! Are we planning to eat now, or…"
"Ah. Of course…what would you like?" Loki asked quietly, eventually tearing his gaze from Christie.
"I'm not fussed - what's good here?"
"Depends on what you're craving. I'll get the sharing platter, there's something there for every occasion," Loki decided, clicking his fingers roughly. Suddenly, out of literal thin air, a platter of assorted cold and hot meats, thin and thick breads and a number of cheeses and olives appeared on a long wooden slab in the middle of the table. Christie shook her head in wonder.
"That's ridiculous," she mumbled, grabbing a napkin to place on her lap. Loki looked up, puzzled.
"What, magic?" he frowned.
"No, the fact that you made me traipse all the way into the kitchens this morning when you clearly could've conjured up your own bloody spiced bread," Christie exclaimed, her hands expressively waving around in genuine frustration.
Loki couldn't help but laugh.
A good twenty minutes or so passed, filled with mostly silence - but a comfortable one at that. "Its the coronation decision soon," Loki muttered bitterly, dabbing the corner of his mouth after pointlessly poking at a small meat pie. Christie blinked at him whilst chewing her sausage and onion stuffing pastry. There was something in Loki's voice that she didn't like, and her mind registered it immediately.
"Yes, so I've heard...are you nervous?" she asked him slowly, placing her fork down onto her now empty plate.
"Why should I be? There's no suspense here. We all know who's going to get it. We all know who 'the better prince' is," Loki sighed, his voice edging on bitterness and misery. His whole demeanour was changing and it was obvious.
Christie took a note of that one, too.
"Well, I don't know who the better prince is - I literally just got here, remember?" she pointed out fairly, trying to lighten his mood a little.
It didn't work.
"Well I hate to break the news Annerledes - but it's Thor," came Loki's harsh response. Christie rolled her eyes and placed her warm hand on top of Loki's ice cold one in attempt to calm him down a little. Loki felt his muscles involuntarily relax under her sudden touch, and he breathed out through his nose slowly.
"Loki, I'm not the enemy here. I'm not against you. I'm just a serving girl, remember?" Christie reminded him quietly. Loki placed his hand over hers and gave a stiff nod.
"I know, Annerledes. I didn't mean to bark at you…" he sighed, letting his eyes flutter shut for a moment. Christie raised a sceptical eyebrow, contemplating whether to snatch her hand back or not whilst she still had the chance.
"Loki, I swear, if you burn a message into my damn hand again I'll flip out," she warned him seriously, readying her reflexes if needs be.
"I won't, I promise," Loki smirked slightly, opening his eyes again and gently removing his hands from under and over hers. "Oh goodness, I almost forgot - I need to go and train with His Royal Highness himself in a few minutes."
"Who? Thor?" Christie suddenly burst out into a grin with her eyes dancing with excitement. Some gritty action training instead of prancing around the kitchens in that wretched serving dress sounded like a beautiful change of scenery to her. "You train with him? Oh please may I come?"
"What, to the training grounds? Not a chance, it's too dangerous!" Loki exclaimed. Christie pouted and folded her arms in silent protest - which after a few stern moments, somehow made him cave in. She could see that she already had him wrapped around her finger without even having to do too much. "Alright. Fine. But you must promise to always stay by me and don't go looking for trouble with anyone at the grounds, yes? It would not be a pretty sight. Mother will go stark raving mad if anything happens to her favourite serving girl, no doubt. Listen to me at all times."
"Or what?" Christie scoffed. She hated being told what to do at the best of times, if it wasn't Coulson she didn't want to know. Even when it was Coulson - she still didn't want to know.
"Or you die, Annerledes. Or you die," Loki gave a simple answer, his eyes wickedly daring her to argue again. "Now come on, we simply cannot be late."
Thank you so much for reading every week! It makes me incredibly happy.