Hey guys, sorry for this chapter being a bit short compared to last chapter. I've had some personal things going on in life and I'm trying to stay on top of it all. As always, feel free to PM me or leave a review with some suggestions or comments.
Slowly, you blink your eyes open and are again blinded by the harsh bright light in the room. What in the world had happened? Your head feels as though it's about to burst. You realize that you're lying on your back in the corner of the room, still wearing that gorgeous crimson dress HE had dressed you in. Suddenly remembering that the man in the room with you was the one that had made you pass out, you turn your head and scan the room for him. He is sitting in a chair across the room, a book clasped in his slender hands. He never looks away from his novel as he addresses you, "While you were unconscious, I took the liberty of adding missing information to your mind. You know the names of colors, shapes, and everything else that is trivial. I don't know how I could have overlooked it before."
So that explains why your head feels so full. You groan inwardly as you push yourself up off the ground and into a sitting position. "I'm sorry if I offended you with my question ear-" he waves you silent.
"I was imprisoned for attempting to overthrow the King and exiling my brother, Thor, so that I could take the throne as my own. The woman that came in was my adoptive mother, Frigga." His voice grew ever so slightly soft at the mention of his mother. Clearly he cared deeply for her. He lifts his emerald orbs to yours and looks at you for quite a long moment. You don't move, fearing that he will whisk you back into darkness again. Eventually, he turns his gaze back to his book and says, "I'm sorry for not explaining sooner. I did not know she was going to be coming, and I didn't have much time to explain. She means well, but it would be so much easier if she just stayed away."
You lift yourself to your knees and then onto your feet, which are dainty, but not small. And bare against the cold floor. You lift up the skirts of your dress and look at your toes for a second, wiggling them slightly in fascination. A small chuckle from across the room draws your attention and you glance up. Loki is watching you with some mild amusement in his eyes, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. It's a genuine smile, not one filled with loathing and disgust. It looks great on him.
"So if I am to keep you company, and you are locked in a prison, what do we do day in and day out? What book are you reading?" You realize that you know of thousands of books and stories. Sonnets, poems, even a few haikus are all stored away in the vast expanses of your mind. Apparently Loki had done more than give you just a few trivial memories. Or maybe they were just trivial to him. Honestly, trying to understand what things meant to him was becoming quite a bit of a chore. He didn't seem to be too open or willing to share a whole bunch of information.
"It's a Midgardian book called 'Shapechanger's Song: Chronicles of the Cheysuli'. It's an omnibus, actually. Quite interesting, if you're into fiction." The cadence in which he pronounces Cheysuli captivates you. Honestly, the man could read newspaper clippings and captivate an audience. Mainly women, you imagine, but several men would probably drop to their knees just as quickly. You realize that that's what bothers you about this man. He's a seducer. If there's anything you've learned from books and movies, it's to never trust someone like that. Their words are usually pretty lies.
"I do prefer it, actually." You try not to let your unease show, but it's hard. You may have a ton of knowledge all of a sudden, but knowledge and practice are completely different things. In the end, your nervous picking at the dress draws his attention and his face slowly grows cold again. His eyes narrow, but he lifts a finger and beckons you over with it. Feeling as though you've blown it, you go to him, dread feeling heavy in your chest. What if he makes you vanish again? Is that what death feels like? Nothing? Loki points at a chair that's close to him and you take your seat, trying to sit properly with this dress, which is quickly becoming more and more of an annoyance.
As though he's read your mind again, he sets his novel down on a little side table that's next to his chair and plucks another book out of the stack next to it. This one is more flimsy-a magazine. "Here," he says, handing it to you. "Find some clothing you like and it's yours." You look over at him for a moment as you take the magazine, noticing how soft and thin the paper in it is.
"Thank you," you murmur quietly and settle back into the chair to peruse your options. There were several skimpy swimsuits that looked interesting, but you dismiss the idea quickly. When are you ever going to go swimming? On the next couple of pages where some jeans and a couple of shirts that captivate you. "I love these," you say to Loki, not realizing that he had been watching you the entire time. He leans over to take a look and gives a short not of approval. He waves his hand in the air and comes back with a neatly folded set of clothing in his hand. The tags were still on it, even. You raise an eyebrow at him and frown slightly, "Did you steal these?"
He gives a short laugh that didn't quite reach his eyes, "Well, why would I waste the energy summoning them out of thin air when I can just snatch them from an overpriced Midgardian store?" He had a point, but it still felt wrong. He holds the clothing out to you and you gingerly take it from him, making a little bit of an effort to avoid touching his fingers. This man still made you feel extremely odd, as if he might explode over the smallest of things. You feel like you're already boring him to death by being so timid, but if that was the case, wouldn't he have already made you disappear again?
"Do you have somewhere that I can change, or...?" Surely he had seen you naked when he created you. He didn't pick out the dress first, did he? He made a small face and rolled his eyes.
"I'll turn around. Go ahead and change right there. I'm the only one that can see you, remember?"
Giving out a slight huff, you head to the corner of the tiny room and begin unlacing the front of your dress, which had made your breasts look fantastic. Luckily, he had even thought to give you a bra and some modern underwear to wear, too. How thoughtful, that one. Slipping into the jeans, you can't help but feel a bit more mortal next to him in his green and golden robes. He was a Prince, and you weren't even real, but yet somehow his aura of power made you feel less. Turning back around, you walk back to the chair that sat next to him and curled up in it. The crimson dress had been bunched up on the floor where you left it and with a snap of his fingers, Loki had it sent away, out of sight.
"So how am I to keep you company if you already know everything about me, what I know, and are a little unwilling to share your stories?" You aren't sure where the sudden boldness comes from and from the looks of it, he hadn't been expecting it either. His eyes narrowed at you again, and that same burning flame started to heat his eyes up again, but there was also another look lurking in there as well. Fascination, desire? It was hard to tell, but it made something low in your stomach churn, but it isn't in a bad way at all. Your face suddenly feels hot and you look away, unable to keep looking at the intense face that was currently three feet away from you.
His voice slightly rough, he answers, "Well, even though I am unable to leave this cell, I'm able to use some of my magic, still. You, for example. Your clothing. I am able to do rather simple tasks outside of this cell, and more powerful things inside, where it would hurt no one but myself. These walls are warded against my magic, so absolutely nothing I can do will penetrate them." You nod your head in agreement, but he still hasn't answered you. "I was simply thinking that I would summon books and other literature and we could read and discuss them, if you like. You currently know of all the books I have read, so anything you were to read on your own would be strictly your knowledge. Of course, as we grow to learn one another, perhaps we may do other things, as well."
You have no idea if he meant for his last sentence to sound as though he were going to make an advance on you or not. His idea makes sense, even if it is a little odd. "So how long have you been in this cell?"
"Several months now," he says quietly, attention turned back to his book. Boredom striking you, you get up and begin to pace throughout the room, walking over to the bed that was tucked against the far wall. It appeared to be about a queen-sized bed, which was pretty decent, considering he was a prisoner and all. The thought of sleeping and dreaming comes to you and yawn, hand covering your mouth. Suddenly, you feel a warm presence against your back-you hadn't even heard him move, but there he is, inches behind you, his tall figure looming over you. You stiffen in surprise and nervousness, and he asks, "Are you tired? You may sleep in my bed, if you like. I don't sleep often these days."
You blink quickly, taken aback by his unexpected offer and take a minute to weigh your options. The bed looks pristine; white sheets that are completely unruffled. It looks as though no one has ever sat on the bed, much less slept in it. You get the feeling that the sheets smell wonderful and would be wonderful against your skin. "Are you sure? I don't want to intrude or anything..." you trail off as he just looks at you with a slight smile at the corner of his mouth again. "Yes, I'm sure. If I grow weary, I'll just push you out of my way."
His poor attempt at a joke brings a grin to your mouth. When he's relaxed and happy, his laugh is infectious. When he's dour and angry, you can't help but want to choke him and comfort him at the same time. "You should really smile more. It makes your eyes shine."
He raises an arched eyebrow and blinks slowly at you, seeming to wonder if you were secretly poking fun at him instead of saying the truth. "I'll keep that in mind..." he says as he moves around to the side of the bed to pull the blankets back for you. He steps away from the bed and gestures to it before turning and retreating back to his chair. With him away from you, you feel as though you can breathe again and you crawl into the bed. pulling the blankets up around you and cuddling up with the pillow. It smells faintly of him, as though he hadn't used it in a long time. It was musky, like the woods after a good rain shower. Perfection. As you drift off to sleep, you can't help but wonder if he is in fact a big softy under his harsh exterior, and if so, should you go poking the bear?