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 'Don't You Pretend' by Kelly Clarkson
If I Knew
Chapter Thirteen
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 found herself still brooding almost a week after her last visit with the prince. There was a riot of emotions clouding her head and she hadn't the faintest idea how to start picking through them. She was furious with herself for allowing herself to be so vulnerable in his presence, for letting herself get caught up in his seduction. Even worse than being violently attracted to him, was that he bloody well knew about it. She shuddered to think how he would use that information to his advantage, her face burned at the thought.
She had been unable to visit of late, trapped in an endless parade of events for the newly engaged couple at court. Luckily she had also managed to avoid her possible future husband too. Although avoiding her step-mother was because increasingly difficult. She grit her teeth as Lady Atla steered her horse alongside her.
"Daughter." She simpered, dimpling prettily at her and Eira frowned. "Everything is in place."
"Excuse me?" Eira snapped, more harshly than she'd meant to, as her heart thumped into her throat.
"For the trip, silly." Lady Atla giggled.
Eira let out her breath in relief. For a moment she almost thought her marriage had been arranged without her consent. After the initial flash of relief dissipated, worry continued to gnaw at her insides. If she took this trip, it would confirm to the court that Lord Moncliere had intentions of making her his bride and that her family were considering the match. There would be no going back without bringing shame to both families. Odin's beard, it was all such a lot of nonsense. Something she had never wanted any part of in the first place.
" - took longer than expected for the trunks to arrive but we can finally depart by midday tomorrow -"
Eira reined her horse in to a sudden stop and Lady Atla blinked at her in baffled irritation as she followed suit.
"Tomorrow?" Eira carefully managed to keep the shocked squeak out of her voice. "Tomorrow?"
Lady Atla shrugged one delicate shoulder carelessly.
"But I have not planned… I… I… have things to pack… I have duties to take care of… I…"
Lady Atla waved a pretty little hand in the air dismissively.
"It's all taken care of, darling. Don't make such a fuss."
Eira took several seconds of deep breaths to prevent herself from ripping her step-mother's empty head right off her much admired neck and tossing it across the beautiful flowery field they were standing in. Once she was certain she was not about to lose control, she nudged her horse forward until she caught up to Frigga's huge snowy-white mare.
"Little songbird." Frigga was laughing as she joined her, amused by something her companion was saying.
"Your Grace."
Attentive as always, Frigga gestured for her companion to fall back a few steps as Eira drew level with her. She could see from the flush on her songbird's cheeks and the frightened look in her clever eyes that something was wrong.
"I believe I am to leave you tomorrow." Eira finally spoke, her voice impressively calm as she feigned interest in the surrounding landscape.
"Ah, your engagement visit."
Frigga pretended not to notice how her pretty little friend flinched, stroking her gloved hand down the side of her mare's silken neck.
"Yes your father did request my permission to steal you away for a time."
Eira pursed her lips thoughtfully for a very long moment.
"And did you give it, Your Grace?"
Frigga cocked her head to the side curiously, eyeing Eira out of the corner of her eye.
"Is there a reason I should not?"
Eira weighed her words carefully.
"I only fear, Your Grace, that my presence may be missed elsewhere."
Frigga tilted her head slightly, the midday sun glinting off her hair and jewels as she grinned mischievously.
"Indeed… I rather think it may, my dear."
Another ball. Honestly. What could possibly be left to celebrate, the silly fools weren't even wed yet. Eira shifted impatiently in her seat, her face a mask of forced enjoyment as the court chattered and gossiped around her. She could have danced, in fact she should have been dancing with the rest of them, but she couldn't bring herself to pretend tonight. She snatched a goblet of wine from a passing servant, gulping it down without preamble. This was her last night here for lord knows how long, and she was wasting it with these drunken fools twittering away about Lady Morlinita's rumoured fling with her stable-master. For one thing Lady Morlinita had eyes for anything in a pair of trousers so it was hardly news she had a new dalliance.
"Lady Eira."
She had been so caught up in her brooding, she had missed Lord Moncliere sneaking up on her and now it was too late to escape. She plastered a smile onto her face and accepted his hand, stepping down from her seat. It took her a moment to realise that he seemed more subdued than normal as they swept across the dancefloor.
"My Lord?"
He blinked out of his thoughts and smiled, his hand tightening on the small of her back fractionally.
"Apologies for my distraction." He ducked his head slightly towards her and for a second her stomach dropped. "My mind is occupied."
"Could I help, sir?"
His face was strangely inscrutable as he looked at her, his dark eyes for once impenetrable.
"I'm afraid not, My Lady." He smiled again and this time it was closer to his real humour. "Alas, some things are not meant to be."
He stopped suddenly, disrupting the flow of dancers around them who momentarily bunched up and then swayed past in time to the music. Lord Moncliere stared at her intently, holding her hand in his.
"I truly wish you the best, My Lady." A genuine smile spread across his handsome face, a rueful look that made her belly flutter pleasantly. "Whatever that may be."
For once in her life she was speechless, staring at him in confusion as he lifted her hand to his lips, squeezed her palm gently and vanished into the swirling crowd. Eira was still gaping after him when Lady Atla latched onto her elbow and yanked her out of the path of an entwined couple.
"What-"
Lady Atla whisked her out onto the balcony bordering the hall, tugging her past a couple ensconced in the floral decor shadowed from the hall's bright lights.
"What ARE you-"
Lady Atla finally released her grip on Eira's wrist although she did not stop moving. She paced in tight circles across the balcony and back, murmuring to herself as she went. Eira managed to grasp a few phrases and, filtering out the "disappointment" and "a better target could be found" and "his lineage did not suit anyway", she managed to discern that her engagement had been ended before had officially begun. Her head spun and she grasped onto the marble wall of the balcony for balance.
"What are you saying?" She managed to get out, surprised to find her voice was calm and steady.
"Oh my darling." Lady Atla sighed, darting to her side and wrapping her up tightly in her arms. "I'm afraid Lord Moncliere will not be courting you any longer."
Eira fought the urge to snap back, taking a long breath before she prodded for more information.
"We're not certain why, exactly." Lady Atla admitted sheepishly. "It seems there's some forgotten promise to a well-to-do family near his estate." Lady Atla sniffed dismissively, her grip tightening on Eira's shoulders briefly. "I can only apologise my darling. We should have looked further into it and made sure…"
Eira struggled out of her stepmother's grip.
"I don't understand." She fought for patience as Lady Atla fluttered around her, stroking her hair back from her face and straightening out the folds of her ballgown. "Lord Moncliere is not interested in me anymore?"
"Of course he is." Lady Atla scoffed, tapping her on the nose playfully. "It's just that he seems to already have an… entanglement… I'm certain he would love to pursue you but these awful traditions. The scandal it would cause..." Lady Atla sighed sadly, looking over her shoulder towards the ballroom fretfully. "I'm sure we could find a way around this… if you have your heart set on him, darling." Her eyes started to glimmer with excitement. "You have the ear of the Queen, I'm sure-"
"No." Eira said loudly, wriggling away from her stepmother's touch. "It's not a good enough match to demand a favour from the Queen."
Lady Atla pouted sulkily for a moment.
"I'm sure you're right." She sighed sadly. "Such a shame that foolish investigator failed to do his job properly the first time."
"What do you mean?" Eira asked absently, her mind already whirling on what this could mean for her future here.
"The man your father hired to look into the eligible families, of course." Lady Atla tittered. "He assured us the first time that Lord Moncliere had no prior obligations to so much as a milkmaid before we even approached him." She shook her head. "Then suddenly this pretty daughter of a Lord appears out of nowhere."
"Out of nowhere?" Eira repeated dumbly, a suspicion coiling at the back of her mind.
"Yes! Can you imagine. Apparently the families had a falling out years back when Lord Moncliere and this girl were children. Years of feuding. Now suddenly all is forgiven and a childhood betrothal is to be honoured."
Eira shook her head, trying to take in how suddenly everything was changing.
"But Lord Moncliere has already been married. Surely that broke the betrothal?"
Lady Atla shook her head, patting her on the shoulder.
"If she was still alive, of course it would. Now she's gone…"
Eira scowled. Now the poor woman was dead, her widowed husband was fair game for the vultures.
"We will need to regroup of course. Your father and I will need to return home to look at the options all over again. A shame. Lord Moncliere was really the only Lord who would suit. Tragic."
Lady Atla's voice faded out as she drifted back towards the ballroom, murmuring plans to herself. Eira leaned back against the marble wall, struggling to calm her breathing, letting the cold seep into her body as her mind whirled and her heart raced.
"I need you to answer something, Prince."
Loki chuckled, sliding his hair back from his face with an insolent toss of his head.
"Is that not what we do here, nightingale?"
She ignored him and his smirk faded slightly as he studied her. She didn't look her usual teasing self, her face was pale and somewhat drawn and her eyes were liquid. She had been rather withdrawn all evening, he had dismissed it as a sulk for some perceived slight, but now he wasn't so certain. He carefully placed the empty goblet on the table, circling across the cell towards her. Her tongue darted out, moistening her pink lips and her long dark lashes fluttered.
"I'm not certain how, but I know you had a hand in preventing my marriage agreement." He opened his mouth but she continued on. "Why?"
He looked away from her. It was harder to gather his thoughts when she stared at him with those unfathomable eyes. He still wasn't certain why he had influenced his mother to stop the negotiations. He had forced himself not to examine his motives too closely, convincing himself that it would benefit him in some way in the future. She was staring at him uncertainly, if he didn't know any better he would have said hopefully. He couldn't find his answer. His instinct was to mock her weakness, to throw it back in her face. The words wouldn't emerge. His ever-reliable silver tongue was heavy in his mouth, his throat was full.
"Our bargain was for truth." She reminded him, as if she could read his mind, and she sounded almost breathless.
He was across the room in a split second, a hand on either side of her, clenching the wooden arms of the chair until they creaked. The movement was so sudden, she didn't have time to flinch. She sucked in a breath and tilted back her head to look at him.
"Truth." He murmured, his breath stirring the strands of hair framing her face. "Is subjective, love."
Her face twisted and she tried to turn away but he caught her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. She looked momentarily furious, the heat simmering in her eyes causing a flicker of lust at the base of his spine.
"I do not share." He said coolly, carefully enunciating each word.
She didn't reply but her eyes widened, her pupils dilating until he could see his own reflection. He shifted until his lips hovered over hers, breathing in her enticing scent.
"Sing me a song, nightingale."
Her eyelashes had fluttered closed at his proximity and they remained closed even as he stepped away from her.
"Don't you pretend that you don't, need a little more from me
You're actin' like it's nothin', we both know it's somethin'
Even in the dark anyone can see
So don't you pretend that you're not, wishin' I was next to you
Hot and cold as ever, want me but you never
Let your guard down and I need some proof
You make me want you but you don't know where this ends
Baby, I wanna love you but I can't take the suspense
Don't you pretend
Try to deny and be cool, as you walk away from me
Steady as you go but, tremblin' in your voice shows
There's a part of you slowly dyin'
I'm not gonna wait and just play, victim to your vanities
I don't have the time babe
Tell me that you're mine babe
Why you keepin' your feelings from me?
You make me want you but you don't know where this ends
Baby, I wanna love you but I can't take the suspense
Don't you pretend."
He cocked his head. She was looking right at him, her cheeks slightly pink but her mouth pouting defiantly. This was a new situation for them. He had directly exposed a tiny fracture in his wily façade, and she had theoretically laid her cards on the table. Both were open to interpretation, should they choose to look closely. They were at an impasse now. One of them would need to weaken, to cross the invisible line that had been drawn between them from the day they met.
They stared at each other for a long time, neither willing to be the first to give in.
"Prince-"
His mouth was on hers before she could speak further, his lips soft and warm and wicked. She felt his hands on her upper arms, fingers digging into her skin through the sheer material of her dress hard enough to bruise. He pulled her to her feet without breaking away from her mouth, yanking her against him roughly. She gasped against his lips in surprise, her fingernails digging into his chest as he crushed her against him so tightly he must have been able to feel her pounding heart in his ribcage.
"What-"
She tried to protest but it was impossible, his touch was burning through her skin and lighting her senses on fire. He was not gentle, his teeth nipping her lips sharply as he teased her with his tongue. She fought with him, using her confusion and frustration against him as they fought for the upper hand. They pushed away from each other suddenly, his grip on her releasing and she shoved back from him.
He stared at her with the eyes of a predator; her flushed cheeks and chest, the trembling hands she hurriedly buried in her skirts, the raw desire sparking in her eyes. His fingers twitched and he turned away from her quickly. He did not understand why she had such an effect on him. He had never lost control around a woman in all of his long years. His seductions were carefully planned games that served for entertainment. This. This was different.
She stared at him; the flush on his cheeks, his tousled hair drifting over his forehead, his eyes like chips of sapphire glass with desire, his long lean body held taught with tension in his silken trousers and shirt. She backed away from him, for once her movements clumsy instead of elegant as she stumbled on the hem of her long skirts.
Loki watched in silence as she fled.