It took me ages, I know, my apologies.
JigokuShoujosRevenge: ohhh, don't call him that xD He's the cutest thing in the whole world! Almost…
shopgirllaura: only Loki know that!
My apologies again. Hope you're gonna like it.
xxx
Eir lay down in her bed, pulling her blanket to her chin. It was almost midnight and Loki hadn't shown up. It was obvious that she, a clumsy little servant girl, couldn't compete with the beautiful, neat, and wealthy princess. She sighed quietly and flipped onto her side. She rubbed her fingertips across her lips, noting with annoyance that they were still heated from her silly habit of licking them. She moved from lips to hair, wrapping a loose strand around her finger. It was absolutely, undeniably red. Who could like hair of such an awful shade when they could have softer, lighter toned locks?
She sighed again, closing her eyes. She was a fool for thinking that he could have cared about such an ugly creature as she… She'd kept hope as long as she could, certain that he would come—he promised—but night was nearing its end and she had nothing left to hope with. She drove her fist into a pillow, as if the bedding was responsible for the fact that Loki didn't show up, and tried to escape her disappointment through sleep, stubbornly ignoring the way tears squeezed from her eyes and filled her with a hollow sort of warmth.
xxx
Loki paced his room with his hands behind his back. It was unbelievable; this couldn't happen to him. He snatched his glass from the night stand and took another swig of liquor, relishing the way the potent alcohol scalded his throat.
The silence between them stretched for what seemed like an eternity before Loki could gather himself enough to respond. For the first time in… centuries, surely—he could not think of anything to say. He took a deep breath and watched Surtur carefully, gauging his reaction with the warm blue eyes of Odin, so unlike the cold green of his own.
"King Surtur," he began as he stroked his grey beard.
Odin's beard, he reminded himself. He was Odin at this moment and he must act the part .
"Truly, I am honored by such a proposal." He hesitated, taking another fortifying breath before continuing, "But the death of my beloved wife was not so long ago. It presses still against my heart, and I must… I need… need more time to grieve."
Surtur nodded slowly, leaning back in his chair, a sympathetic smile creasing his features though they were difficult to make out past his beard, so very long and brown. Loki waited with baited breath, hands gripping the armrests of his chair convulsively. There was no reason to be so nervous, he chided himself. This was only a minor setback, not a calamity. He would marry the girl and be done with the matter if it was required of him. He would.
"I am certain Cecilia is more than willing to wait as long as you require, All-father."
All Loki could think to do was smile as he cursed the King within the privacy of his own mind, still not able to put a name to the root of his upset, not to its cause.
Loki swirled the alcohol in his glass, losing himself in the pattern as he tried to decide his course. Cecilia was beautiful and young, and an alliance with Surtur could only benefit Asgard. But Eir… He wet his lips, an unconscious smile pulling at his lips as he thought of the tiny redhead. She helped him believe that there truly were innocent, sweet, and kind people. She was everything he wasn't; he cared for her, more than he ever thought he would. More than he would ever, could ever admit; more than even he was able to comprehend. It was completely beyond reason.
He drained the rest of the amber liquor in one gulp and hissed as it burned his throat, wiping his lips with a swipe of his hand. Decision made, he returned the glass to the nightstand forcefully and rushed from his room, donning Odin's form as he would an old cloak.
xxx
After making certain the corridors were clear, Loki crept into Eir's quarters, absent-mindedly noting that the door was open, still. He could see her curled up in her bed by the light of the moon. A grin spread across his features as the alcohol dulled the worries of his mind, a most welcome occurrence. He crouched next to her huge bed, laying his head on his hands. His expression soured when he noticed the still wet streaks on her pale face; he caressed one of her cheeks with the back of his hand, wiping away the remnants of her tears. She shifted slightly in her sleep, pressing against his hand.
"Eir…" He whispered, leaning closer, breathing in her bewitching scent. She mewled, but didn't wake up. Loki's smile returned, his free hand gently brushing her soft, fiery hair. She opened her eyes at that, blinking a few times to clear her vision before propping herself onto an elbow.
"You came," she whispered huskily.
"I told you I would." He stood up and spoke a bit louder. "Never doubt me."
He clasped his hands behind his back and moved to the window, looking down. He frowned in disgust at the sight of dustbins beneath her window. Is this how Surtur treated a servant of King Odin?
Eir bobbed her head in agreement, even though his back faced her. A small smile graced her lips, Princess Cecilia long forgotten. She slipped out of bed, shivering when her bare feet hit the cold floor. With a few quick steps, she joined Loki at the window and wrapped her arms around his waist, content to breathe him in silently.
Loki smirked at her affection and resolved to arrange a more suitable room for her. He took one of her hands, so much smaller than his, and lifted it to his lips as he twisted to face her.
"It's rather late, love. I must return to my chambers soon." He put his hands around her waist despite his words, unable to let her go just yet. Eir narrowed her eyes suspiciously, disgust lurking in her deliciously green eyes as the stench of alcohol on his breath filled her nostrils.
"Are you drunk, Loki?" His breath was hot against her and stank of alcohol. Loki chuckled quietly, pulling her closer. To her annoyance, she found she didn't mind at all.
"Perhaps." She felt delightfully warm, her body covered only by the flimsy material of her nightdress, draping against her form in a way that was absurdly pleasing, a feast for his eyes that sent gooseflesh across his skin and warmed the pit of his belly. His tongue darted from his mouth to wet his lips and he hugged her even closer to him, eager to feel every warm curve.
"Why; what were you doing?" She planted her hands against his chest, as if trying to stop him from embracing her tighter; in truth she searched for the reassuring beat of his heart, so steady and strong.
"Eir," He mumbled impatiently, leaning down to smother her in kisses, pulling her tiny frame closer and closer until she could scarcely breathe. "I was drinking with King Surtur."
She hummed in acknowledgment, trying to hide her face as she felt her cheeks begin to burn. Loki refused to let her, grabbing her chin in one of his hands and capturing her lips with his own in a very mischievous way. She shivered in pleasure as he deepened the kiss with a smirk, relishing in the quiet groan that slipped from her throat. His hand slipped down her cheek, skimming across her body feather light until they met the thickness of her thighs—those he massaged in languid circles, reveling in the way her flesh moved beneath his touch.
Eir's eyes fluttered shut as she lost herself to the kiss, something she couldn't identify pooling hot and liquid in her lower stomach. Her legs dissolved into jelly and she cursed herself for being so limp when she wanted to return the kiss with just as much passion. He tasted of an alcohol she couldn't name- sweet, but with a spicy aftertaste that lingered on the tongue, a heady sensation that made her lace her fingers around his neck, searching for balance. He was the drunk one, but somehow her world was spinning. Loki's hands crept up the backs of her legs and clenched her buttocks firmly, making her gasp in surprise, accidentally catching his lower lip between her teeth. She pulled away, eyes wide and cheeks flushed with something more than embarrassment.
"I'm sorry- I didn't mean to-" She was shrill in her breathlessness, but she couldn't look away from Loki's eyes as her fingers caressed his lower lip, already swelling where she'd bitten it. There was something about him that she'd never seen before, a wildness in his eyes that tempted her to… to… she knew not what. Her frantic apologies made his eyes light up, the wildness transforming into a feral hunger. She had seen it before, that hunger. Seen it when they had travelled with Thor and Jane, but this time… it was different. She wasn't the least bit afraid of him. No, she felt… something else. Like she was burning from the inside out but in the most wonderful way she could imagine, as if flames were caressing her skin, burning away everything but this.
They gazed at each other silently, the moment stretching until neither knew how long they'd been caught up in each other. Seconds? Centuries? Who could tell. But Loki could bear it no longer. He groaned and crushed his lips against hers with bruising force. Eir moaned softly to her own surprise, as she felt the slickness of his tongue enter her mouth. They tore away the garments that now seemed so unnecessary, breaking the silence with whispered adorations and harsh pants for breath, until they forgot the world in the heat of each other.
xxx
Loki awoke warmer and… happier than usual. He breathed deeply before opening his eyes, a pleasantly familiar scent filled his lungs, though he couldn't name it, when he startled at the unexpected sensation of someone nestling tight against him. He glanced down to see Eir with her head pillowed on his chest, her bare legs tangled in his, fiery hair in such knots that the night before couldn't have been a dream. He let his head thump back against his pillow and chewed at his lower lip, furious that he'd broken the promise he'd made himself.
He'd wanted her to remain pure, innocent. And yet, he'd taken her maidenhood from her in a fit of drunken lust. Damned alcohol. He should never have come, not after drinking so much. He covered her hand with his, skimming the back of her hand with a thumb, marveling at the warmth and softness of her skin. The way her petite body pressed against his, how she snuggled as close to him as possible, made him feel a certain warmth, a contentment he'd never experienced with the other women who had shared his bed.
Damn Surtur and his own drunkenness.
He swept Eir's hair away from her face, watching her in silent delight, despite his conflicting thoughts. Her lashes were long and dark despite the hue of her hair and fairness of skin. But her lips—plumped and swollen from the night's activities and parted just so—could be compared to nothing but a rose, newly opened. Loki was unable to keep himself from smiling at the turn his thoughts took then, but made a valiant effort to remove the images of her naked body from his mind.
He sighed quietly, resigned to the knowledge that it was time to get up and face reality. He stroked Eir's hair, watching her expression to catch the moment she awoke.
"Eir," he whispered. When she didn't respond, he shook her arm gently. She murmured something quietly, opening her eyes with effort. "I have to go, love."
She nodded her head with a hint of disappointment in her bright green eyes, trying to move her hair from her face clumsily, body still heavy with sleep.
"I will come to see you today; I promise." He kissed her pale forehead and stumbled out of bed. Clover-green eyes followed him sluggishly.
"Alright" she mumbled, laying her head back against the pillow, warm and still smelling of him. "Loki?"
"Yes?" He conjured his garments with a swift gesture, tugging his shirt straight and glancing at her curiously, diffuse warmth softening his eyes.
Eir blushed wildly, staring down at the quilt as her shyness overwhelmed her. She was tempted to clench her eyes shut, the intensity of Loki's gaze reddening her skin until she must resemble the ripest strawberries in the garden. She chewed her lower lip, not sure what to do.
Fool.
"It's nothing," she whispered, stealing a glance at him as he waited near her bed, fully clothed. "It's nothing, Loki. Never mind."
He smirked and leaned down, planting a chaste kiss on her lips.
"As you wish, love."
With one last crooked smile, Loki strode from the room. Eir was unable to tear her eyes from the door, mired in her thoughts. Her tongue darted out to lick at her lips and she rubbed her temples.
She'd almost done it; the words had been so close to sliding from her tongue. She'd almost admitted her love for him.
Foolish; a fool, a fool girl she was. Of course she didn't love him. After all, she'd never loved anyone before. Her first love couldn't possibly be Loki of all people.
She groaned with exasperation and rose from her bed, completely unconcerned by the fact that her room was very cold and she was very naked.
xxx
"There you are, girl!" The jovial, energetic voice snapped Eir out of her reverie, startling her into staring at the cheerful woman kneading dough. Somehow, the redhead discovered, she'd wandered into the kitchen.
"Good morning," she said, clearing her throat slightly. "Do you need my assistance?"
The woman laughed merrily, tossing her hair away from her face.
"Why? It's your responsibility t' care for your King, girl!" She continued to knead the dough vigorously, flour billowing in the air. Eir shrugged self-consciously, taking a seat on the bench of a long table laden with vegetables and peelings.
"I missed breakfast," she admitted, keeping her eyes to the floor out of embarrassment. "Is there anything I can eat?"
"There." The servant jerked her head towards a small archway. "'S the pantry; you're sure to find something to fill your belly there."
Eir mumbled her thanks and retreated to the larder. There she found, to her good fortune, a muffin still warm from the ovens; she bit into it hastily, humming in satisfaction.
"I don't want to be nosy," the other woman began. Eir fought not to roll her eyes. She knew plenty of servants back in Asgard that used just the same tone—they were always nosy. "But why should Odin even bring a servant? We've enough maids and menfolk to fill any need and they no worse than you an' yours, Asgardian!"
Eir shrugged again, swallowing a mouthful. Servant girls bustled through the kitchen with stacks of clean plates, chattering loudly all the way.
"Why should I know such a thing? And who am I to judge?" She said the words slowly as she found an out of the way box to perch on. "King Odin wanted me to come, so I came."
Woman clucked with dissatisfaction, halting her kneading to lump the dough into balls that would soon become loaves.
"Well it's just as well, I s'pose; no doubt your King knew the intention of ours. Prob'ly brought you along to get acquainted with the Princess, 's a matter of fact."
Eir frowned at the woman. There was a strange ringing in her ears and the last bit of muffin fell from unexplainably numb hands. The baker kept working busily, not noticing Eir's strange behavior.
"What do you mean?" She asked, fighting to keep her voice from trembling as she stood and crossed her arms.
"Didn't you know?" The woman laughed, pushing the unbaked bread into one of the ovens. "King Surtur invited Odin to give him the opportunity of a lifetime, he did. He's offered our lovely Princess to be your new Queen!"
The baker kept babbling, but Eir didn't hear a word of it. Loki and that blonde pretentious girl-child with fine hair and rosy cheeks? They were to be married? Eir made her excuses—she couldn't remember what they were but she made them—and fled the kitchen. She drifted through the halls, bewildered and feeling as if her heart had been plucked from her chest. She couldn't fathom why she gasped for breath when she moved at a snail's pace. With unfocused eyes and trembling limbs, Eir returned to her room.
xxx
That'd be it. I promise I will do my best to update asap – though it might mean another month or so due to the amount of studying I have. Any thoughts about this chapter? ;)