Stepping into the dimly-lit washroom, Carthrine braced herself against the sink and turned her look of exasperation to the mirror.

Her cheeks were flushed, more than they should have been, like a drunkard who had spent all night celebrating a war triumph. Her hair had kinks in it that she knew had been from the faster dances of the night, ones that she had spent in a certain man's arms that she would not think about right now.

Forcing herself away from her perch, she flicked a few switches along the eastern wall, all of which held warm water that she hoped would calm her nerves. Slowly, it began flowing into the huge pool that was set in the center of the room, a wide-sitting tub with sloping sides and etchings along the rim. Carthrine traced over the patterns with her trembling fingers; horses, running over a field, the grass carved light into the stone in a way that made her close her eyes and breathe deeply as the grooves graced over her fingertips.

Calm. She was calming down. Slowly, but surely.
She really had no reason to be so upset, she thought as she broke away from the rim and stepped over it, her legs slipping into the hot water until she finally found a place to sit down. It was not as if the Asgardians were known for their overabundance of politeness, especially when it came to women. Carthrine swore when she came here she would abandon all of her preconceptions about the land and the people that inhabited it; however, she was beginning to feel those old embers of bias flare up into a more solidified tongue of flame.

Or was it jealously?, she pondered, swishing her hair around her shoulders. Could it be that he mistook her politeness to the others as flirtatiousness? Carthrine never really thought herself a flirt when it came to men; she was fairly certain that the only one she had shown any special attention to tonight was Loki himself, unless one counted her escape with his brother at the end of the night as 'flirting'. She didn't think so. It was more selective desperation.

Really, though, she thought. He should not be so presumptuous. If that was indeed the case. He could, in fact, just be genuinely ill-mannered. And rude, she added, and maybe even insolent, with no propriety and more or less acting like a damn-

She checked herself, biting her thoughts off before they could grow any farther. It was not the time to get angry again. Resigning herself to be calm and contained, she sank downwards until the water lapped at her torso, stopping just at the curve of her collarbone, her entire body coming undone as the warmth seeped into her skin. She would think no more of Loki tonight.

That is, until the feeling crept up on her again.

The feeling of being watched.

The instant she felt eyes raking over her skin, Carthrine ducked down into the water, submerging her entire body as her mind began racing at a speed that made her eyes screw up in anger. Because unlike the previous times this week, when she had felt unknown eyes creeping over her skin, this time she recognized the gaze.

That bastard.

Coming back up, she felt the eyes still there, her every move surveyed... and probably, knowing their owner, ridiculed. She knew the nervousness was showing blatantly across her face, and beneath the sound of splashing water, Carthrine could swear she heard a chuckle echoing quietly off the walls.

Oh. So that was the game he was playing. Well, at least she knew he was interested.

As she weighted her options silently, Carthrine realized she had to make one of two very compromising decisions. The first involved making a mad dash for the towels that hung by the door, dressing as quick as possible, and possibly sprinting to Frigga's room to ask for her assistance.

The second option was much more compromising, and also far more daring. Carthrine, if one could say anything about her, could be very daring when it counted. And it would definitely count here.

So he wanted a show?

She would give him one.

In one strong push, Carthrine was sitting on the rim of the tub, completely naked and dripping.

The chuckling stopped almost at once.

Feeling a mixture of both victorious and naughty, Carthrine slowly let her fingers spread across her chest, tracing the water droplets across her skin with the gentleness that she had stroked the carvings not even a moment ago. The hand dipped lower, to her stomach, and in her ears she could almost hear his breath hitching, his mouth probably forming that silent "oh", or maybe even a smirk...

Her hands finally found their mark, and slowly, she began stroking, languidly, up and down, her legs spreading and her body leaning back till she felt her spine form a slender curve. Moans began flowing freely from her throat as she felt warmth slowly build up inside her, not only from the feeling of her stroking or the water that clung around her legs, but from the knowledge that she had an audience that would be losing his calm with her. Unashamed and brave, she threw her head back, picturing him between her legs instead, working magic with that… what did that one soldier call it...

Ah. Silver tongue.

Carthrine shuddered as her pace quickened, and now she imagined him behind her, leaning her over the rim and just taking her roughly and quickly. He would be demanding, and harsh, and smooth, just like Carthrine wanted him to be. Just enough muscle to hold her down and make her beg and-

"O-oh," Carthrine felt her head going dizzy, and she knew that she was close. She felt him following her every movement, her every hitch and moan, and the thought of him seeing her come was actually the one thought that finally pushed her over the edge.

But she would not let him have it.

In a very sudden movement, she slipped off the rim of the tub and back into the water right as she came, her back arching against the marble sidings as the spasms shot through her core. She knew there would probably be bruises all up and down her back from the rim digging into her, but at the moment, really, she did not care one bit. His name escaped through her gasps as she grinned until finally, she quieted, lying still as the stone beneath her as the water churned around her.

She smirked up into the darkness, knowing he had not seen her body as it came. He would have to live with only the image of her face, whispering his name, and deep down she prayed it would drive him to make his next move as soon as possible.

Swiftly, like a veil being lifted, she felt his eyes disappear from her, and the room felt empty and comfortable once again.

Carthrine laughed like a naughty child, she thought, who had just pulled one Hel of a magnificent prank, and sank back into the water.
Her first battle victory.

And, if this brooding prince had anything to say about it, probably her last.

The next day.

"Nothing?"

Carthrine paused, then responded. "Nothing."

"I... I cannot deny I felt the same," Thor awkwardly shifted back, his lips still showing signs of the red that had been smeared across them a moment earlier. "I'm sorry I gave you no warning."

"I suppose that this is a normal thing for you?" she responded, one of her eyebrows quirking up.

Thor looked taken aback. "No, no, not customary in the slightest. I just wanted to test...ah..." He leaned backward against the wall, his mind working faster than his mouth. "I mean… May I simply be frank with you, my lady?" Carthrine nodded, and he continued: "I felt as if we had little to no connection my father seemed to wish for us. The only way I could be certain..."

"...would be to grab me by the shoulders and kiss me against a pillar," Carthrine finished.

He fell silent.

The situation had been much less awkward toward the beginning. Carthrine, in lack of a better guide, had asked the prince to walk her around the castle again, showing her the places where she could spend her time. The two had talked amiably, she had thought, but not in a way that showed any inclination that they were more than just acquaintances. At least, until he stopped in his tracks and attacked her.

"Attacked is a bit of a strong word..." Carthrine muttered to herself, before turning her attention back to Thor, who was currently running a hand through his golden hair as he spoke.

"Once again, my lady. I meant no disrespect. I only intended to confirm that you had no feelings for me."

"Well," Carthrine began, and mentally, she chose the route that offered the most gentle of opinions, "I thank you for being frank and honest. I suppose there were few other ways to confirm whether I was truly interested or not."

"It is not often, you see, that a woman such as yourself would not reciprocate." She gave him a warning look, and he immediately clarified: "Not that there is anything wrong with that."

She saw his intentions written in his eyes, and knew he genuinely did not want to insult her. And he was right. He was not a man for her, and she was far from a woman for him. He was too honest, she too guarded, he too simple in his tastes, and her far too complicated. It was not a happy match, and she knew that if her father had actually met Prince Thor, he would agree in a heartbeat.

"Well, let us just hope that your brother did not see it," she murmured before she could stop herself.

"My brother?" Thor questioned, a look of slight skepticism on his face, "Why would you worry about his thoughts, my lady?"

Carthrine chose not to answer truthfully. "I merely wish for him to believe what is best about me. That is all. I mean to remain in the highest regards of all the royalty of Asgard while I stay, nothing more." And she said it in such a way that only a very skilled liar would be able to detect its hidden meaning.

"Ah. Understandable, then." He clapped her on the back, then immediately realized the impropriety of the action. "Excuse me. For a moment I forgot you were a princess and not one of my friends."

"Not a friend?" Carthrine faked a look of offense, amplified by her lips, which were now free of the red she had painted on top of them earlier. "Well, my prince, I fear I have sorely underestimated our camaraderie. I would consider us friends."

He smiled, a genuine smile, that showed he was starting to agree. Wordlessly, he resumed walking, and she followed him.

Their next stop was the song room. This was the final room that remained unexplored, and Carthrine was eager to do so. With a stride that was just a hair too fast to be considered ladylike, she bounded into the room, surrounding herself with the echoing sound of her footsteps against the floor.

The design of the room was brilliant, made to amplify the quietest of melodies to reach everyone within it. The walls were decorated with smooth paintings in dark reds, browns, and golds, glimmering when the light from the large chandelier from above hit them with its yellow rays. There were instruments, some familiar, some foreign, placed in a pattern along the far side, from the smallest which perched on tables to the largest that stood on their own.

But the part that drew Carthrine in was the small platform in the middle. It was a simple stage, with barely any distinction from the floor around it. Yet it still called to her. A familiar tug towards that center position blossomed in her chest, and for now, she ignored it. There would be plenty of time to practice later.

Thor seemed rather out of place, standing quietly by the door as he watched her examine the room, so she returned to his side and took his arm again.

"Thank you, Thor. You have been kind in showing me these places."

"Anything for a friend, my lady," he winked, and her laugh echoed to the crystal above and back down again.

From his spot on the castle roof, Loki sneered.

The little minx was letting him know she had no interest in that blonde...fool, he decided on. While deep down he knew he should not berate his brother so, it was obvious that he had no clue what the princess's intentions were. Or, more specifically, who they were intended for.

He studied her as she walked among the gardens with him, her burgundy dress catching on the branches every now and then as they made their way down the path. She would stop, untangle them from herself, and hike the lower hem of the gown a little higher until, finally, she tore the bottom half of the dress off entirely and continued walking as if nothing had happened. Loki enjoyed the look of scandal on his brother's face as he followed behind, his blue eyes avoiding the inevitable wandering to her legs.

She was definitely beautiful, he admitted. Far more than beautiful when compared to his current company. And her mind was refreshingly different when compared to the rest of Asgard, filled with curiosity and eroticism that was almost exotic. Loki was familiar with how Carthrine was probably raised in Vardheim, surrounded by immaculate decorum, yet encouraged to free herself from the confines of such base desires and pursue much darker ones. Her intelligence and her sex made her an even more intriguing girl, one he would much rather figure out himself.

Still. She was far from his level of wit. She had more or less fallen to pieces at his touch, and Loki looked for more resilience than that. She would have to prove herself much more able than the traditional delicate princess. A princess. Loki snorted. How he had found himself attracted to such a thing, he did not know.

He stopped as he recalled last night. The image of her face, contorted with a mixture of passion and playfulness, danced across his closed eyelids. He sank back and remembered vividly each movement, each moment where she was more or less his.

...Well, she proved she had some resilience. And spontaneity, for that matter.

Loki liked spontaneity. It made for the best tricks.