CHAPTER 11:
Sitting in the steaming hot, bathing pool that smelled heavily of the fresh summer lilacs that coated the water's surface, Erica slowly ran the wash rag down a bare, glistening arm. It was finally mid-day when the young woman was directed to bathe for the night's upcoming festivities by her chamber maid, Iris.
And the small red head woman had been quite willing to take as long as she possibly could. Pretty soon, an hour had passed by...
"M'lady Erica..." Iris had come for her, stepping into the bathing room carrying a fresh white linen that was draped over an arm, "...time to get out and dry off."
Almost immediately, the red head sighed with a dramatic sense of consternation, "Must I?" the younger woman waded through the purple water that was waist deep, over to the pool's side where she proceeded to leisurely rest her arms on top of the cool, golden rimmed edge.
Iris rolled her eyes as she tried holding back a smile. Then, the aging chamber maid held the bath linen out for Erica's use. "Come along, mistress...I have much work needing to be done on you before you'll be presentable for the tonight's festival."
The woman inwardly swore," For argument's sake..." Erica stated coolly, "...didn't you say tonight was going to be a masquerade?" she spoke as she took care climbing out of the great pool. Before she could shiver from the sudden and drastic temperature change of removing her naked-self from the bath, Iris was upon her-wrapping the white linen tightly around her body's center.
"Indeed, I did." Her maid confirmed as she finished tucking the body cover in place.
"So then, if everyone's going to be in masks and costumes anyways..." the red head continued on with the faintest aura of hope. "...who will honestly miss me tonight?"
"Hmm..." Iris's knowing grey eyes narrowed softly as she considered the younger woman's words. "I admire the effort, M'lady...but you're not getting out of this."
Erica's blue and jade green eyes dropped with an immediate scowl, "Damn..."
The aging woman suppressed a quiet laugh, "After you, mistress."
Taking that as her cue, Erica huffed another sigh before she led the way out of the bathing room, into the bedchamber.
"Your gown has already been laid out on the bed, M'lady."
Hearing the direction, Erica turned her attention onto the piece of furniture and spotted the dress that had been gifted to her the day before, "So it is..." she silently cringed as she approached the foot of the grand chaise bed. "Iris..." her voice now had softened with uncertainty, "...must I wear this?"
The older maid, who had moved over to Erica's cherry wood vanity on the other side of the room, halted in her efforts of arranging the table in the preparation of fixing up her mistress' hair. Turning slowly over a shoulder, the aging woman fixed Erica with a questionable look, "What a peculiar inquiry, M'lady."
The small red head shifted lightly on her feet, "Well...it's just..." her voice carried off, finding it suddenly difficult to speak her mind. Not because she found herself actually tongue-tied, of course-she just didn't quite know how to properly say this.
"Does the gown that my Lady Queen chose for you, not please you, Lady Erica?"
Quickly, the younger woman shook her head of damp, red curls. "No, it's nothing like that..." she answered as reassuringly as she could, "...on the contrary, her Majesty's thoughtfulness truly astounded me."
"Then what, may I ask, is the problem, mistress?"
"I just cannot wear this gown, Iris." A thick silence befell the room.
After a few moments, Iris spoke up, "My dear mistress..." she confessed, "I don't believe I am following..."
Erica took a moment and sighed gently, "Alright..." she spoke directly, "...allow me to show you."
Coolly stepping up to the bed, she retrieved the gown laying out on the top covers. Picking it up by the shoulders, the linen-clad redhead held the gown against her body for display, "Iris...do you really not see what I'm seeing here?"
"Apparently not." The baffled old maid answered as she studied the demonstration before her, "...the gown looks splendorous to me."
"Yes, precisely..." Erica agreed with a curt nod, "...it's too splendorous."
At once, Iris waved the comment off with a sharp flick of the wrist before she carried on with her setups, "Oh M'lady...don't be so silly."
The younger red head frowned with unmistakable aggravation at being written off-Iris just didn't get it. But then again, how could she? Iris has always been a part of the grand, palace life...it's all she really knew. So of course, it would go without saying how she was unable to understand Erica's outside perspective.
Turning the gown around in her hands, Erica went over its every last detail with a hard, cold analysis-it had been constructed out of taffeta silk with long split sleeves that ran the length of her arms, stopping just at the elbows. It's bodice had a trim, square neckline and to complete it, a full skirt.
From the bosom of the gown, including its billowing sleeves, it's color was a vibrant magenta pink, but as you went further down the front, reaching the stomach and hips, the color began to lighten to a lovely pastel as rich as a young lady's blush. Even as you reached the skirt, the coloring continued to fade evenly until you reached the hemline which was left a silvery white.
To only heighten the gown's loveliness, it had been trimmed and embroidered with gold and silver damask. But what really stole Erica's breath was the diamond-grid like pattern that decorated the bodice and shimmered with hundreds of tiny crystals that twinkled and refracted the light that touched it in the same manner as the rainbow bridge- it was simply magnificent, just like everything else here in Asgard.
And that was why Erica found herself so uncaring for it. Not because it was lacking in beauty...but because of its vivacious glory, Erica knew she would never be able to fully measure up to it. This dress was undoubtedly made for royalty...and the small red head felt to being anything but.
Granted, she was never treated as such, but it still didn't change the fact that if compared to the other nobility in the Asgardian palace who were born and bred into aristocracy, Erica would stand no taller amongst them than a regular commoner.
"M'lady..." Iris's voice shook the younger red head from her thoughts, drawing her attention away from the gown and onto her chambermaid who stood over by the small vanity, looking more than ready to begin her work. "Come and have a seat. I must see to your hair while it's still damp and manageable."
"Manageable?" Erica repeated. The light frown she wore on her face only deepened as though repeating the word had left a bitter, displeasing taste in her mouth. Carelessly tossing the gown back onto the bed's surface, the young woman grudgingly moved forward, "You know, last I checked...being 'manageable' was not part of this arrangement!"
"Well now, this is quite the sight...who are you...and what have you done with my son?"
Hearing his mother's teasing voice as she entered his chamber, Loki found himself smirking quietly as he continued making the final adjustments on his formal wear as he stood in front of the large grand mirror in the back of his room.
"Whatever could you mean by that, mother?" He replied good naturedly as his green eyes swiftly assessed his own appearance by gazing back at his reflection.
His dark hair had been well groomed and slicked back, the fitted, intricately designed gold breast plate, shoulder pads and gauntlets he wore over his pressed tunic of rich green, gleamed brightly from being freshly polished earlier this morning. His black leather boots that stretched their way up his shins, stopping just under his knees, also carried with them an unmistakable shine of their own-making them stand out amongst the earth-colored breeches he wore.
Frigga, dressed in a long, sweeping, sleeveless gown of shimmering gold, smiled warmly and moved further into the room, approaching her younger son from behind. "I just wasn't expecting to see you so...ready for tonight's festival."
The Queen of Asgard confessed as her blue eyes took in her raven-haired son's features before she moved around and collected the fine cloak of emerald green that was hanging off the mirror's side. "You never were the most enthusiastic about these kind of events."
"Well...enthusiastic is a strong word, mother." Loki replied as he turned about to face the smaller framed woman who in return stepped up and knowingly began on the attachments that would allow the green cloak to hang from its rightful place at his broad shoulders.
"Still..." she carried on, "Would I be wrong to assume that I may be detecting a hint of eagerness from you, Loki?"
"Ah..." Loki's mouth turned upward with his infamous smile, "But eager is an even stronger word..."
At once, Frigga jabbed a motherly finger into the center of his chest as she fixed him with a firm but affectionate look, "Loki...I am your mother...you can't beat around the bush with me."
The Dark Prince openly laughed as he quick caught his mother's hand and raised it up to his mouth, "I just think perhaps you're overanalyzing things, mother." He finished his statement with a respectful kiss upon the back of Frigga's hand.
The Queen's blue eyes narrowed softly, "Hmm..." she considered her son's words, "And I think you're hiding something." she returned.
"But no matter...I will learn of your secrets within time." she assured him with a playful twinkle in her eyes as she took her hand back and reaching up, touched Loki's pale face gently, "Until then...you look very handsome, my son." she spoke lovingly as her eyes traced over his sharp features, earning her a soft smile from him in return. "Come...let us go and meet up with your father and brother. I believe they have already headed down to the festival's opening."
Unable to say no, Loki straightened up before he politely offered his mother his arm which she immediately took, "If we must, we must." he replied courteously. After all, he couldn't deny that he had been furtively looking forward to what tonight would be bringing.
It was just a matter of time...and nothing would keep Loki from missing another delicious opportunity to encounter a particularly spirited red head.
Side by side, as the two passed Loki's bed, the Prince quickly collected his battle helmet and the gold mask that was resting next to it. Then, as they continued chatting quietly, mother and son swept themselves from the chamber, accompanying each other down the palace corridor to the Summer's Festival's site.
"This dress hurts..." The grumbled comment earned Erica another sharp tug on the gown's laces that Iris was masterfully lacing. Her breath hitched as her lungs continued fighting against the constricting stays she had been forced to wear for the second time since coming to Asgard.
And if that wasn't enough, her head was already beginning to ache from the way her hair had been complicatedly styled. Surprisingly, it had taken Iris longer to fix her hair rather than her efforts in getting her dressed.
Using five long strands of hair, Iris had twisted and weaved them into a elaborate crown that started at the back of her neck and fell across the top of her head. Then, she gathered the rest of her red-gold hair and braided the mass of copper of curls into a side bun which consisted of several more knots which were all interlaced with each other and secured firmly with a ton of pins.
Everything had been so precisely constructed that not a single strand or loose curl stuck out of place.
"And..." Iris spoke as her fingers tightly finished tying off the gown's laces, "Done." she declared proudly as she took a large step back to assess her work. "Spin around, M'lady...let me have a good look at you."
Erica huffed heavily, well as heavy as her corsets would allow her to and with subtle difficulty, did as she was asked, grimacing as she felt the rigid bodice of her gown hold her upper body prisoner.
When she faced Iris, she watched coolly as her chambermaid brought a hand up to her aging face and gasped pleasingly. "Oh, M'lady Erica..." she breathed out and joyfully clapped her hands together, "You look perfect!"
Erica's chest rose softly but fell quickly as she sought her breaths for air, "Truly...that is not the first word that comes to my mind..." she replied as she pressed an open hand on top of her breasts which were painfully straining themselves against her corset and the gown's shimmering crystal bodice.
Iris rolled her eyes but continued to smile. "Well, never you mind, M'lady. Trust me...you look lovely. The All-Father and his Queen will be very pleased...and no doubt, the Princes too."
At the final comment, a different kind of knot suddenly formed in the back of Erica's throat, forcing her to profoundly swallow. So was that another reason for the over-the-top gown? Was it just a way meant to catch the two Princes' eyes? If it was, then she would've found yet another basis for why she greatly disliked this particular garment.
"Wonderful..." she mumbled quietly, making a secret promise to herself in that moment to burn this dress as soon as she was able. Keeping her expression cool, almost casual though, the young woman busied herself with smoothing out an invisible wrinkle in the skirt of her gown.
When she looked back up, Iris was once again in front of her, holding out the silver and gold mask she was to wear to complete her attire.
Erica took the object with a silent nod, and forced a small smile, "Thank you."
At this point, Iris was practically glowing with her pride. "My pleasure...now if you'll please excuse me, M'lady, I must go change myself. But I shall see you down at the Festival tonight."
"Of course..." Erica spoke with a curt no of understanding before dismissing the older maid, "You're free to go, Iris."
Iris bobbed a quick, excited curtsey. "M'lady." she backed away slowly, heading towards the chamber door at which she paused for a second and offered another genuine smile, "Truly, Mistress..." she called to her before slipping from the room, "...you look like royalty yourself."
Iris had meant her words to be taken as a compliment...but it didn't stop Erica from stiffening as the door closed shut behind her lady in waiting.
"Royalty?" She looked like royalty, Iris had said.
Moving swiftly over to her vanity's mirror, Erica wasted no time adjusting the pane of glass so that she could see herself, her whole self, clearly. As her eyes took in every last detail-from her knotted curls to the way the glittering pink gown she wore framed her body nicely, almost too nicely-the young woman found her red head starting to shake at her reflection.
This wasn't her...none of this was her.
By the stars above, it was one thing coping with the idea that a simple woman like herself would one day soon be marrying into the royal family, but this right here was something entirely different.
Being subjected to such an imposing appearance like this made Erica feel as though they were trying exceedingly hard to pass her off as a born and bred Asgardian woman to the public's eye.
Well damn it all to hell and back, a glowering Erica thought to herself as her hands reached behind her back and began to viciously pull and tug free the lacings on her gown.
She was not of Asgard...she was of Vanaheimr.
If she was to come to terms with this arranged marriage, and agree to play her part at the altar, then it was about time for everyone else to come to terms with who she really was.
It was time for things to be done her way, and by her way alone.
When the gown was loose enough, the young woman shrugged out of its fine material and sent it uncaringly to pool about her feet. Completely forgetting about the discarded Asgardian gown, Erica stepped away from it and moved purposefully for her trunks of belongings.
As she took a few minutes to silently hunt through her old gowns and possessions, an undeniable smile pulled at her mouth as she found the ideal replacement, lying neatly tucked away at the bottom.
It would be pretty enough for the night's event... stylish in its own sense, though when compared to the pink gown, it was definitely far more effortless and plain in its design.
"Now this..." she addressed as she carefully unpacked the new gown and held its familiar, silky material against her, "...this is me."
Iris, of course, would no doubt be furious with her for her insubordination - but if the goal for her attending tonight anyways was to make a statement for all to see, what better way to do it than this?
Reaching one hand up, Erica grasped the knotted side-bun and pulled, sending a shower of hair pins scattering to the floor as her bound head of curls broke free. There would be no going back now.
With unwavering certainty, Erica turned the gown around in her hands and quickly went to work on undoing the short array of pearl buttons that ran down its back. Once that was done, the young woman slipped the gown over her head, easily having it on and fitted to her within a few minutes.
"Besides...it's not like Iris can be too mad..." Erica thought to herself as she swiftly combed her fingers through her long, fiery hair. "...the shoes and mask will still match just fine." At the arguing thought, the young red head laughed aloud at herself.
Who was she kidding? In just under ten minutes, she had gone from 'royalty' to 'rebel' and it was all at her own hands.
If anything by tonight's end, Iris will mostly likely have a heart attack.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello, hello everyone :) If you have made it this far, I just want to give a quick shout out of appreciation to each and every one of you guys who have taken the time out of their days to follow along with my story. Your support has been astounding and to put it simply-you are all awesome! 3 - Also, I am here to make a quick request.
Though my story, bit by bit, has been gaining popularity, I'm not getting much feedback . And for those that don't know me too well, I have always carried a open-inbox policy, where I like to encourage my fans to drop me a brief note or write a constructive review. It really helps bring out my best writing-and I like being able to incorporate my fans thoughts and feelings into my whole writing journey as a story unfolds by using the feedback that they leave as a foundation. So my request to you is this: Don't be shy- reach out and say something to me :) I promise, I won't bite. Even if it's a one worded review saying 'yay' or 'nay', please let me know what you think. And that's all I have to put out for now. So with that said, enjoy the next chapter of 'To Trap You In My Arms.'