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 'Think of Me' by Phantom of the Opera and 'Blank Space' by Taylor Swift
If I Knew
Chapter Nine
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
Frigga peered across the breakfast table at Eira curiously. Her beloved Lady had been in a curious mood all week. She had been smiling all the previous night despite having to play one of the card games she despised with Frigga and several ladies of the court last night. She had barely even cursed when she'd pricked her finger pinning Frigga's hair in place this morning. They were taking breakfast on Frigga's private balcony this morning whilst Thor and Odin were locked in the War Room.
"You seem distracted today, my dear." She suggested innocently.
Eira frowned, rolling one shoulder elegantly and picking idly at the fruit on her plate.
"Not at all, Your Grace." She gave her a brilliant smile and Frigga felt her own grin widen.
"I have a mind to take a turn along the river while the morning is still cool."
Eira nodded distractedly. She hadn't had the opportunity to see the Prince for nearly a week. She was trying not to think of him too often, it was too disconcerting. He had kissed her. Lengthily. As yet, she wasn't certain whether he had done it to gain an advantage over her or not. She had enjoyed it regardless.
It was possible whatever he had planned was working, she pondered as they made their way to the palace dock. She had not dallied with another man since she'd started her visits. She thought of him far more often than she should. She had witnessed a thoroughly salacious piece of court gossip one evening and her first thought had been how his hearing it may grant her one of those genuine wicked grins he bestowed so rarely.
As usual the Ladies of court flocked around Frigga as word spread of the outing and Eira felt a prickle of irritation on her skin. Sometimes she actually envied the Prince and his solitude. Frigga insisted on the Ladies following in their own boats as she and Eira boarded the Royal barge.
Eira relaxed contentedly as the barge swung out onto the river, the cool morning breeze ruffling her hair. She watched Asgard drifting by, the palace shrinking behind them as the dawdled along at a steady pace with the boats fanning out behind them.
"It's beautiful." Frigga observed, her head tilted back so the sun caught her face and glimmered in her hair.
Eira studied the palace and grounds consideringly. It was impressive, to say the least. It still seemed something of an elaborate prison to her. She had spent her entire life amongst the rolling hills and coastal towns of her father's lands, it was a different kind of beauty that she appreciated but she did find Asgard claustrophobic sometimes. There were so many people, so many eyes on you with an interest in your doings.
"My son seems more cheerful of late."
Taken by surprise at the sudden comment, Eira blinked warily.
"I- he is, Your Grace?"
Frigga nodded, humour twinkling in her eyes as she waved at a family on the riverbank.
"Well, Loki was never a cheerful child." Frigga mused. "He seems less restless, I should say."
Eira shifted uncomfortably on the silken cushions, watching a heron launch itself gracefully into the air from the riverbank.
"I'm glad, Your Grace."
It was clear that Eira was not going to share any details of her visits with her son regardless of their friendship. Curious indeed. Frigga studied her in silence; her molten hair was loosely gathered at the nape of her neck in a pretty braided twist that shivered in the breeze, there was colour emphasising the curve of her cheekbones and her brilliant eyes were fixed on the horizon. She could have been a painting, the brilliantly red and gold trees lining the riverbank a stunning backdrop to the wistful look on her still face.
"I think a song will do nicely, dear." Frigga sighed, leaning back against the mountain of pillows, closing her eyes and basking in the warm sunshine.
"Think of me, think of me fondly
When we've said goodbye
Remember me, once in a while, please promise me you'll try
When you find that once again, you long to take your heart back and be free
If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me
We never said our love was evergreen, or as unchanging as the sea
But if you can still remember, stop and think of me
Think of all the things, we've shared and seen
Don't think about the way things might have been
Think of me, think of me waking, silent and resigned
Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind
Recall those days
Look back on all those times
Think of the things we'll never do
There will never be a day, when I won't think of you."
Frigga's hand drifted in the air in time with the melody. It was one of her favourites, she enjoyed its theme of forgotten love and chances missed, the dipping and lifting melody and the general melancholy. She didn't question Eira's decision to sing that particular song for her, knowing she wouldn't receive an honest answer.
She adored her Lady, their odd friendship was one of the few things she enjoyed about the Court, but she knew well enough that they were not friends who confided in each other about their personal feelings. It was something she had accepted that she would not know what was occurring between her son and Lady Eira. It niggled at her not to know their progress but asking either of them would only push them away from her. She knew both of them so well, whether either of them were willing to admit it or not.
"Your Grace?"
Frigga blinked back to the present, finding Eira peering at her curiously. She smiled, brushing a stray curl of hair back from Eira's cheek fondly.
"Are you well, Your Grace? You look… concerned."
Frigga's smile widened, stroking Eira's cheek.
"Pay it no mind, songbird." Frigga laughed softly, leaning back against the plush cushions. "Simply the musings of an old lady."
"That is categorically untrue."
Eira lifted her eyebrows and blinked her big green eyes innocently.
"You accuse me of being a liar, Prince?"
Loki tried to frown at her but his eyes were crinkled with amusement. He despised court gossip, yet being imprisoned for all eternity changed one's priorities. He found the gossip itself ridiculous, but he was amused to no end by her disdain for the court intrigues that swelled around her all day.
"Perhaps you're right. Mayhap there was an entirely innocuous reason for Lord Arvid to be secreted in one of the servant's hallways, in the dead of night, with Lady Agatha." Eira shrugged magnanimously.
"Certainly." Loki agreed with a wicked grin. "Perhaps the same reason you were in that hallway. In the dead of night."
Eira gave him a stern look, turning away from him primly and Loki grinned.
"You know perfectly well I was looking for something at your mother's request." She sniffed.
Loki tweaked an eyebrow, his grin settling into a smirk that made her fingertips tingle.
"I certainly hope so, nightingale." He murmured.
Eira tilted her head, trying to decide if he was mocking her or being genuine. On the one hand, his every word was manipulative. On the other, he did not seem the type to share. She bristled slightly at his presumption that he could claim her by kissing her one measly time. He was sitting against the wall of the cell, one leg pulled up casually and his foot inches away from her. She was leaning against the bed across the cell, her long legs stretched out before her towards him. He had stopped trying to physically intimidate her whenever she entered the cell and was willing to sit on the same level as her even if that was the ground. That could almost be called progress. If she didn't remain so suspicious, she'd almost think it was humbling for him to act this way towards her. A concession on his part that she imagined few others could expect from him.
"How so, Prince?" She challenged sweetly, subtly shifting so her hair slipped from her bare shoulder and bared her golden skin a little.
Loki narrowed his eyes, a predatory look flickering over his face. She looked innocently back at him through her lashes. Almost challenging him.
"What else would I have been doing?" She questioned modestly. "What do you think women do in the dead of night in dimly lit corridors… Prince?"
"With Lord Arvid, perish the thought." Loki replied with an affected shudder, examining his nails indifferently.
"Don't be flippant, Prince." She sulked, pouting prettily at him.
"I would hope." He said suddenly, skewering her with those intense blue eyes. "You have no experience in dimly lit hallways with grubby Lords, nightingale."
"With Lords?" She deliberately held her guileless expression, belied by the long lashes and simmering smile. "I choose not to dabble in the Court pond."
His face darkened momentarily and she peered at him curiously. She had never imagined him jealous, possessive maybe, but not jealous. Interesting. Very interesting.
"And elsewhere, nightingale?"
She looked away, remembering her bashful guard guiltily. Not that she had any reason to feel guilty. She felt flustered, as if he could read her thoughts with those wicked blue eyes.
"Come now, Prince. Don't try to convince me that you haven't had your share of simpering maids turning down your sheets for you."
That only seemed to make him more suspicious. She should have known better, expecting him to think of her behaviour on the same level as his own was just foolish. That was not who he was.
"I have had my dalliances." She informed him with a sniff, tilting her chin defiantly. "I am not ashamed. Nor sorry."
Loki pursed his lips thoughtfully, surveying her in silence. Her silken ivory dress was slipping off one shoulder, her hair clashing beautifully against the pale material. Her slim feet and calves were poking out from under the dress where they were stretched out towards him. The shape of the dress clung to her cleavage and emphasised her slender waist. She looked inherently desirable, exuding both stubbornness and defiance.
He couldn't abide those simpering maids, nor the wily court Ladies like cats in heat. She gave off the perfect mix of sultry and proud, comfortable in her own skin and perfectly happy with who she was that he found positively intoxicating. She apologised for nothing, allowed no one to make her doubt herself and lived however she pleased. It was a different kind of freedom, not to be restrained by the thoughts and expectations of others.
It did make him feel odd to think of her life beyond this cell, given that he no longer had one. It was burning in his throat, to ask when her last dalliance was. He was not a jealous man, one would need to be envious of one's inferiors for that and the very idea was laughable. No he was not jealous of men she had picked up and discarded as easily as she discarded the half-eaten grapes on his table. No. To capture her attention, to hold it for longer than a moment, to harness that fire. That was the real challenge. One he was beginning to relish.
"Lord Arvid and Lady Agatha." Loki repeated in an amused tone, picturing the portly Lord with some disdain.
"I'm quite sure his lady wife had a different reaction when she found out." Eira pointed out, trying and failing to suppress a grin; Lady Gayal was a vivid personality at Court.
"Oh quite. I'm certain the Court was agog." Loki drawled. "Outraged flutterings on the surface and gleefully devouring every morsel beneath."
Eira smiled sadly. It was oddly sad that she wanted him to see their ridiculous reactions in person so badly. Anything but this cell. Always this cell. It was smothering him.
"Sing me a song, nightingale." He finally said, leaning back against the wall of the cell and looking remarkably similar to his mother for a moment.
Eira sighed, coiling her hair around her fingers as she pondered. He hadn't kissed her again but he had been the clever, witty Loki she enjoyed so much all evening. She didn't see a need to punish him too badly.
"Nice to meet you, where you been?
I could show you incredible things
Magic, madness, heaven sin
Saw you there and I thought, oh my God look at that face
You look like my next mistake
Love's a game, wanna play?
New money, suit and tie, I can read you like a magazine
Ain't it funny, rumors, lie, and I know you heard about me
So hey, let's be friends, I'm dying to see how this one ends
Grab your passport and my hand
I can make the bad guys good for a weekend
So it's gonna be forever
Or it's gonna go down in flames
You can tell me when it's over, if the high was worth the pain
Got a long list of ex-lovers
They'll tell you I'm insane
'Cause you know I love the players, and you love the game
'Cause we're young and we're reckless
We'll take this way too far
It'll leave you breathless, or with a nasty scar
Got a long list of ex-lovers
They'll tell you I'm insane
But I've got a blank space baby, and I'll write your name
Cherry lips, crystal skies
I could show you incredible things
Stolen kisses, pretty lies
You're the King baby, I'm your Queen
Find out what you want, be that girl for a month
Wait the worst is yet to come
Screaming, crying, perfect storm
I can make all the tables turn
Rose gardens filled with thorns
Keep you second guessing like "Oh my God, who is she?"
I get drunk on jealousy
But you'll come back each time you leave
'Cause darling I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream."
Loki was laughing by the time she finished, genuine enjoyment glimmering in his eyes as she gave her little performance. She never failed to surprise him and watching her rolling her bare shoulders in subtle seductive arches and sliding him glances from under her lashes as she sang the teasing lyrics amused him to no end. Where in the world had his mother found this beguiling creature?
She crossed the cell to pour herself some wine, her swirling skirts dancing by him so closely he felt a breeze brush against his skin. She settled down beside him, sipping her wine in silence.
"Do you like Asgard?" She asked suddenly, the goblet shining in the ugly light of the cell as she sipped.
Loki scrutinised her without replying for a long time. She was staring past him, through the window of the cell and into the darkness beyond. No one currently occupied the cell directly across from him so whatever went on in his cell was largely unobserved. The intricate golden spells keeping him trapped in here glittered in her hair and highlighted her flawless cheekbones.
"It's all I've ever known." He shrugged vaguely, picturing the grand golden hallways, the huge sweeping rooms, the vast seemingly endless library and the intimidating throne room.
"I'm not sure I like it either." She replied, still looking over his shoulder towards the palace lurking above them.
Loki admired the curve of her jaw, the way the tilt of her head elongated her neck and exposed the pearly skin of her chest.
"Sometimes… it's stifling." She murmured and he watched her gaze drift up to the cell ceiling, as if she could see through the bland featureless ceiling and up into the cavernous rooms of the palace. "I can see the appeal." Loki cocked his head slightly, watching the thoughts flit across her face. "Asgard. It's like a living breathing being. So much power, so much knowledge. Its very essence seems alive. Every person here just a cog, keeping its heart beating. I can see why people are drawn here, to be a part of that."
She looked at him suddenly, her piercing cat eyes skewering right through him until he felt his very soul blossoming deep in his chest.
"I can see why you might want to hold it in your hands."
He touched her cheek, almost in exactly the same place his mother had hours earlier, his fingers tracing her jawline and brushing her throat. His thumb traced the curve of her lower lip, slightly reddened from the ruby-red wine. Her gaze was fixed unwaveringly on his face, even as he felt her pulse start to thunder against his fingertips.
"Why does one want to hold anything in their hands, love?"
She seemed to be searching his face for something, colour starting to suffuse her cheeks.
"Control." She suggested, her breath a caress. "Possession."
He smiled, a wicked grin that drew her attention momentarily.
"Perhaps. There are some who would want to hold something purely to say they could, nightingale."
Something dark flickered in her eyes and Loki felt that familiar spark of guilty pleasure in his belly. Why did he choose to hurt someone he cared for, just to know he could? What was this dark craving for power he could never fully suppress.
"I don't doubt." She replied sharply. "Those whose achievements matter only for the act of flaunting them."
She didn't voice it, but he could see it written clearly across her face. She had expected better of him. He felt a spike of irritation. Who was she to question his motives, to try and impose her views on his choices. His grip tightened on her neck, her slender throat so delicate and supple in his long-fingered hand. She glared at him defiantly. If he didn't know any better, he would almost suspect her of daring him to do it. If anyone would, it was her. She was stubborn enough to provoke him into murdering her and still make him feel as if she had allowed it, that the choice had been hers. Infuriating creature.
"Lesser men, nightingale." He murmured. "Only lesser men need crow of their prowess to their inferiors."
He felt every movement of her throat beneath his hand as she swallowed, her pink tongue darting out to moisten her lips.
"Of course, Prince."
Loki squeezed her throat gently, almost tenderly, and then let her go.