A/N: Don't own don't sue

Lyrics at the beginning are from 'If I Knew' by Bruno Mars

Lyrics in the middle are from 'Good Enough' by Jussie Smollett (Empire Soundtrack) and 'Beautiful Disaster' by Kelly Clarkson

If I Knew

Chapter Eight

I was a city boy
Right into danger's where I'd always run, a boy who had his fun
But I wouldn't've done
All the things that I have done
If I knew one day you'd come

Eira scowled, snapping her lips closed so tightly her face started to ache. She had been unable to visit the Prince for nearly a week after he had healed her and she arrived after supper to find him in a foul mood. To say the least. Whatever intimacy had been between them was apparently gone and he was not even pretending to be polite towards her anymore. She had chosen to ignore the complete reverse of attitude towards her until she could decipher what was going on.

He'd been in a loathsome mood since the moment she had entered his cell. She had chattered to him as normal, ignoring the barbs he threw at her and his attempts at goading her that went far beyond his usual playful attempts. He was sulkily silent unless he was slipping a cruelly barbed comment into her chatter and he hadn't bothered to look at her once. His last comment was so unkind that she flinched and fell silent, flipping through one of his books idly without taking in a word. Her silence only made his mood even blacker, if she didn't know any better she'd think he was angry with himself for being so unnecessarily harsh. He was sprawled in the velvet chair, glowering moodily up at the ceiling. She was seated at his feet on the small stool, yet after his last words she had twisted slightly away from him to disguise the flush on her cheeks.

"If you're going to be petty and vindictive, let's get this over with." She finally snapped, seething with anger.

He waved a hand carelessly at her and she bristled. Treating her like some lapdog, how dare he! She contemplated for a moment, wondering what to sing for him. She chewed on her lip thoughtfully and he grumbled something under his breath, glaring at her with such uncalled for hatred that she had to look away. She wanted to hurt him.

"I gave you all of me but it still ain't enough to make you happy
I gave you everything
It still don't measure up
Feels like I walked five thousand miles and didn't even come close
Feels like I try to make you smile but you don't even care, no
I'll never be big enough to pay your dues but I keep trying
And you just keep making me jump through hoops
What do I got to do?
I just want you to look at me
And see that I can be worth your love
I just want you to look at me
And see that I can be
Good enough, good enough, good enough
I try to show you that I'm strong, why do I even bother?
'Cause it's the same old damn song
You call yourself a father?
Feels like I'm reaching for the stars but heaven isn't letting me
I wish that I had longer arms but I know that that will never be never be
I'll never be big enough to pay your dues but I keep trying
And you just keep making me jump through hoops
What do I got to do?
I just want you to look at me
And see that I can be worth your love
I just want you to look at me
And see that I can be
Good enough, good enough, good enough."

Loki was frozen as if he'd been turned to stone; his hands gripping the arms of the chair so tightly his knuckles were white. His face could have been made of marble, apart from his eyes; they were huge and burning and alive. She wanted to apologise, to take back the song she had chosen. She had chosen it deliberately to provoke him but she knew she had gone too far. His relationship with his father was none of her business and she had thrown it in his face. She couldn't open her mouth, couldn't summon the words and she knew that if she did dare to apologise it would damage the relationship between them even further.

"Ask your question." He said in a dangerously quiet voice, his gaze fixed on her.

She shook her head helplessly. His eyes were almost black they had darkened so much with his rage. Chips of black ice. To her surprise, Eira felt a tear slip down her cheek and she quickly swiped it away. She didn't feel angry anymore, nor was she afraid, she felt guilty for throwing his pain back at him and for using his weakness against him. She had hurt him, just as she wanted, and she felt despicable.

"Ask your question, nightingale." He ordered icily.

Eira slipped from the stool onto the cell floor, sitting back on her calves. He blinked at her warily. His rage had receded as the words of her song had filtered through the red fog in his mind. He was surprised to find that she had hurt him. A simple song from Midgard that she had deliberately chosen, knowing it would cut him to the bone. She sat at his feet, her face white and her eyes huge as she gazed up at him, her golden yellow dress a pool around her. He waited for her question and he realised that if she asked him some nonsense about his preference in colours or animals, then whatever this was developing between them would be over.

"Forgive me?" She asked weakly, a second tear rolling across her exquisite cheekbone.

He felt something that had clenched in his chest release slightly. She understood.

"What for, love?" He asked with the faintest hint of a deadly smirk.

She gave him a reproachful look, ignoring the endearment.

"Don't do that, Prince." She shook her head at him. "It's beneath you to take pleasure in someone's shame."

For a moment Loki contemplated continuing, to see how far he could push her, but the look in her eyes convinced him that she was genuinely remorseful. He leaned towards her suddenly and she tilted her head back in surprise. It occurred to him briefly that he enjoyed her in this submissive position, gazing up at him guardedly. In fact it was most stimulating. As if she could read his mind, or the hunger in his gaze, the shadow of a smile flickered across her mouth and she dropped her eyes modestly. Loki felt his smirk widen as he studied the inky black lashes casting shadows against her cheeks, the darkness between them dissipating.

"I forgive you." He announced grandly, leaning back in his chair and gesturing for her to stand.

She shot him a look, refusing to stand on principle and he genuinely laughed at her stubbornness, startling them both. Eira sighed and moved so she could lean her shoulder against the chair leg, curling her legs beneath her under the blanket of her expansive skirts. Loki was somewhat disquieted by her sudden close proximity but he didn't comment.

"I have another question." She murmured, smoothing a hand over her silken skirts to keep herself occupied. "Why have you had the personality of a wounded boar this evening?"

Loki shifted sulkily in the chair. He preferred to think he was showing his displeasure in an effective manner. He didn't like to be judged, to be criticized or called on for his behaviour. Especially when he knew she had a point. He was thrown by his attraction to her, how much she surprised him at every one of their meetings. It had stunned him to realise that he would have enjoyed her company if he had been free. He had convinced himself that he took pleasure in her visits simply because she was one of his only two visitors. When she had appeared in his cell with that fever burning in her eyes, he had felt a needle of concern deep in his spine. He felt concern for no one save his mother, his brother and his father.

His love for his mother was unquestionable, a constant presence like the beating of his heart. His love for his brother was a living, moving thing, uncontrollable and electric, just like lightning. His love for his father was another concept entirely, something he had no wish to examine in any great detail even with all of the time he now had on his hands. It was deeply disconcerting to contemplate adding someone to that list.

So naturally he'd done what he always did and tried to push her away. In his cruel manipulative way.

She had tilted her head back to look at him while he was brooding, her brilliant hair a splash of colour against his dark trousers and her ivory skin glowing in the golden light from the cell. The deference had vanished, she was waiting expectantly for her answer with a twist of impatience on her lips. He leaned back against the chair, staring across at the barrier without really seeing it. There was more chance of Thor suddenly becoming a keen scholar than him admitting any of the above to her.

"Our agreement, Prince." She said primly, with a bite of impatience. "Was a song for an answer. A truthful answer." Her pretty face was sharp with displeasure. "You seem incapable of keeping to our agreement."

Loki struggled to maintain his grin, peering down at her indignant little face glaring back at him.

"You seem incapable of providing me with a sweet little ditty to calm my dark impulses." He replied mildly, watching the emotions flash in her brilliant eyes.

"That was never specified in our agreement, Prince."

He gave her a bland, unassuming smile. He did hate it so when she called him Prince.

"I spent too long inside my own head." He said suddenly, making a deliberate show of examining his nails. "It is not a pleasant place to spend one's time. I will admit that there are times when… well, one's thoughts get the better of one."

He had surprised her. Her eyes were bigger than ever, blinking at him suspiciously, her tempting little mouth pursed. He felt a little swell of desire flood his belly, satisfaction bubbling in his chest that he had taken her by surprise. One of the few things he feared in life was becoming predictable. Predictable was one step away from forgettable and he had no intentions of being either.

"Are there no good places in there?" She murmured, her eyes skimming over his face as if she could see straight through him.

"Not enough."

"You're cheating."

"I beg your pardon, songbird?"

"You're cheating!"

Loki feigned his most innocent look, that had never fooled a soul even when he was a child and innocence was inherently presumed. Eira's face was scrunched up in irritation, her cheeks flushed and her mouth a sulky line.

"Do you presume to accuse me of-"

"Yes!" She cut him off loudly. "You are cheating!"

Loki chuckled, holding up his hands in his best impression of innocence.

"Why would I need to cheat?"

She narrowed her eyes at him accusingly, looking prettier than he had ever seen her in her ire.

"Because you cannot help yourself, Prince." She snapped back haughtily, pushing her hair from her face impatiently.

Loki flashed her a grin and she scowled. It was another unbearably hot day and, while most of the court had taken to the rivers in the search of cool breezes, Eira had known it would be cooler in the underground dungeons and had taken advantage of the empty palace to beat a hasty retreat. She had half expected him to be angry with her again, but she had found him more relaxed than she had ever seen him. He had opened up a tiny fraction after their last conversation and that dratted song she had chosen. She had shown him the board for one of the games she played with Frigga and his eyes had glittered with interest. She had taught him how to play in a relatively short space of time and had then subsequently lost every game to him.

"Perhaps I am innately gifted at this." He suggested, thoroughly enjoying how ruffled she was.

She glowered again. It was a mark of the heat outside that the dungeons were warmer than usual, evidenced in her pink cheeks and the delicate beads of sweat dotting her bare neck where her hair was gathered in a bundle on top of her head. He had indeed been cheating, a game so simple needed very little effort to manipulate, and he had in fact been pondering how soft her hair must be to be sliding from its pins so readily when she had called out his cheating.

"You are a sore loser, songbird." He teased, leaning back against the cell wall.

"I can accept losing, should I lose fairly." She grumbled mutinously, pushing the board away from her.

"You are temptingly attractive when you are sulking, love."

Her cheeks flushed even further as she scowled at him.

"Do you often win against my mother?"

She straightened up, brushing stray strands of hair from her forehead impatiently.

"No." She admitted sulkily. "Your mother is a master strategist… even when it comes to something as relatively mundane as this."

He didn't reply, watching her study him from under her lashes. He was leaning back against the cell wall, one leg stretched out beside the board between them and one knee pulled up. She was sitting cross-legged on the cushion from his bed, the skirts of her flimsy dress pooled around her. She had appeared in a dress far flimsier than he had ever seen her in before, swatches of a filmy kingfisher blue material elegantly placed to keep her modesty. He had complimented her on her outfit and she had thrown him a suspicious look, blaming the heatwave for her predicament. He could see her slender knees and feet where her legs were crossed, she had removed her shoes almost immediately, the coral paint on her toes flashing in the swirling lights of the cell wall. There was something almost intimate about seeing her bare feet, vulnerable and trusting in their slender white presence. He wouldn't say he found her feet particularly attractive, but he found her willingness to be vulnerable with him inherently desirable.

Their silence was broken by the arrival of his lunch. Eira felt a faint tingling, like lightening was trickling over her skin. Whatever Loki had done, the guard tossed his lunch onto his table without a glance in her direction. She had never been here this early in the day before and it was both curious and faintly heart-wrenching to see how restrictive his routine was. He was so mercurial, like a liquid and just as impossible to pin down, it seemed beyond cruel to confine him to this tiny cell.

"You're staring, songbird." He murmured in amusement, tearing apart a pomegranate with long elegant fingers.

"Perhaps I like what I see." She tossed back, surprising him with her honesty.

He rolled one shoulder in a lazy shrug, accepting the compliment as his due.

"Don't be conceited." She sniffed, rolling her eyes as she accepted the pomegranate half he handed her. "I meant this version of you."

Loki lifted his eyebrows questioningly, chewing on the juicy seeds as she delicately held the dripping fruit away from her dress.

"Relaxed. Real." She clarified, holding the fruit to her mouth and sucking down the seeds.

"Is this the real Loki?" He said curiously, finishing the last of his fruit and tossing the skin back onto the tray.

"I hope it's one side of him." She said seriously, the fruit lying forgotten in her hand as she stared at him intently.

Loki didn't reply. She was right. This was the side of him that only his brother and his mother ever saw. He would like to think he had shown her this side of him to further manipulate her feelings for him, but he wasn't so certain anymore. Truthfully, he did enjoy showing this side of himself. It was exhausting to be on edge all the time, to only show a cold aloof exterior. And he was finding it more and more difficult to keep her at a distance when she was his only anchor to the outside world.

He leaned towards her suddenly and her eyes widened, her nostrils flaring as she froze. He grinned at her, still enjoying her mixed reaction to his proximity. He extended his hand and her gaze flickered from his outstretched fingertips and his face. But she did not draw away from him. He used his thumb to brush away a trickle of purple pomegranate juice from her chin. Her eyes were on his as he sucked the juice from his thumb, mischief dancing in his eyes. He was still leaning towards her, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her perfume and body heat.

She moved even closer to him, until he could feel her sweetly-scented breath on his cheek. He could have counted the silver flecks in her eyes if he'd chosen to. Her lips were stained from the juice of the fruit, lingering enticingly a breath away. He could almost feel a breeze from her long lashes as she lowered her gaze.

"Maybe it's time for your song, Prince." She purred and he felt heat pulsing through his veins.

"I'm listening, songbird." He murmured, tilting his head slightly.

She moved back a fraction, enough so she wasn't stretching her neck and throat out.

"He drowns in his dreams
An exquisite extreme unknown
He's as damned as he seems
And more heaven than a heart could hold
And if I try to save him, my whole world could cave in
It just ain't right, no it just ain't right
Oh and I don't know, I don't know what he's after
But he's so beautiful, such a beautiful disaster
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Would it be beautiful?
Or just a beautiful disaster
He's magic and myth
As strong as what I believe
A tragedy with, more damage than a soul should see
And do I try to change him?
It's so hard not to blame him
Hold on tight
Oh 'cause I don't know, I don't know what he's after
But he's so beautiful
Such a beautiful disaster
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Would it be beautiful?
Or just a beautiful disaster."

Loki felt the hairs on his body standing up. She was singing in a quiet, gentle tone but every word pierced him. It could have been written about him, it felt so personal. This time, there was no malice behind the selection. If he had to choose a word to describe how it felt, he would have said it was intimate. The song she had chosen and had given to him using that singular gift of hers, her voice.

She was so close, he really didn't know what else he could do. He pressed his lips against her before she had quite caught her breath from her song. He was normally so meticulous, carefully planning every single movement he made and how he could gain from it. He had not planned this. He had no idea whether he could trust her or not, whether she would allow this. The thought amused him, that he still could not manipulate quite how he might have liked to even after all their visits together. She did not pull away from him, her lips were soft and pliant against his but she did not return his kiss. Eventually, he drew away and peered at her from under hooded eyes. Curious to see how she would react.

Her cheekbones were pink and her eyes were dark, but she did not look angry. On the contrary, she looked almost put out that he had drawn away from her.

"What was that for?" She breathed, her breath very sweet in the small gap between them.

"Is that your question, love?"

She tilted her head as she pondered, pursing her lips. She nodded slowly, conceding that she would rather have the answer than pose an alternative question. Loki's mouth curled into a smirk, his eyes a wicked glint beneath lowered lids.

"I wanted to." He admitted, shrugging carelessly.

"No other motive?" She confirmed suspiciously.

His smirk widened but he decided against reminding her that their agreement was only for one question.

"You look more stunning today, than I have ever seen you, songbird. Even with pomegranate juice on your pretty dress."

She frowned at him, reprovingly and he flashed her one of the genuine grins that made her belly flutter.

"In fact, if you're not fundamentally opposed to the idea, I'm going to kiss you again."

She blinked at him, her mouth slightly open in shock. After a second, her lips curved and her lashes lowered coyly. It amused him to no end when she played coy.

"I believe I could be persuaded."