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 'One and Only' by Adele

If I Knew

Chapter Twenty

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

Since his mauling of her in the library, Loki was frantic to finally conquer his little nightingale. Unfortunately, she had chosen this moment to withdraw from him completely. He had his suspicions that she was toying with him deliberately, planning to drive him mad as punishment. And damn her if it wasn't working.

Arrangements for the gala continued, the huge hall was bedecked by beautiful decorations that would have made his mother proud. Summons had gone out to anyone important enough to be expected, who was not already at court. It was starting to look more like an engagement party, Loki observed uneasily. Perhaps this time he really had gone too far. He dismissed the notion almost as soon as it appeared. He had never yet failed to get himself out of anything, he wasn't about to start now.

He was currently disguised as a lowly guard, since any glimpse of him in his usual mask made her disappear from his presence quicker than smoke at the moment. No matter, he enjoyed the hunt. He slid a little closer to the group of ladies currently taking a picnic on the grounds. As always, she was the most beautiful in attendance, her glorious hair piled on top of her head and glittering with jewels, her sun-yellow gown a conspicuous spot of colour against the dark of the lush lawns. He watched as she turned to the lady beside her, an unimportant lady with an unfortunately large nose, murmuring something into her ear that had the nose flying into the air with laughter.

Desire uncoiled lazily in his blood as he studied the slender length of her neck, the elegant profile, the enticing curl of her body where she sat on the blanket with her long legs stretched out. He simply had to have her. He was getting nothing at all accomplished when all he could think of was the pearly softness of her slender legs, the arrogant lift of her shoulder and the mocking temptation in her wicked eyes.

As he watched, Lord Darr approached the little knot of women cheerfully, making an utter fool of himself sweeping his hunting hat from his head and giving them a far too low bow. He took Eira's hand in his, bringing it up to his lips. Loki forced his tense muscles to relax, ignoring the overwhelming sense of possessiveness curdling in his belly. Eira gestured for Lord Darr to join them and he threw himself onto the ground beside her, stretching himself out carelessly. He propped himself up on one elbow so he could speak to her quietly as the ladies around them took up a new conversation. Loki watched them obsessively, studying the slight tilt of her body towards him and the way she cocked her head in his direction as he spoke.

A sudden flash of doubt pierced through him like a dagger. He had agreed to Lord Darr's courting request merely to annoy her, but watching them now he was starting to worry he'd underestimated her. It was too late to call off the gala without causing a lot of boring fuss he had no patience to deal with. No, he had to see this through now and figure out a way to ensure he got what he wanted out of it.

Where was she. He waved away the hovering servant irritably, then summoned him back and snatched the golden goblet from him. The gala was in full swing, the huge room was heaving with guests swirling around in a kaleidoscope of colours. They had all paid him their respects, one after the other, all apart from one. Usually watching these fools bow to him gave him a rush of pleasure, but nothing would please him tonight. Lord Darr was resplendent in dark grey, his dark hair slicked back from his face in two wings as he preened smugly to the ladies twittering around him. Imbecile.

"Galas are for dancing… not brooding."

He slid her a glance as she appeared before him, furious that she had the utter audacity to look so beautiful. Her glorious hair was piled on top of her head in a riot of shining curls, tiny emerald pins glittering in the torchlight. Her matching emerald dress left absolutely nothing to the imagination, it clung to every inch of her body as if it had been painted on. Her painted eyes and ruby lips were far too enticing. She stepped a little closer to his throne, the sway of her hips thoroughly inviting. She dipped into a polite curtsey, although the smirk on her face was anything but deferential.

"You wish to dance, Lady Eira?"

She cocked her head so the jewels in her ears glittered, arching an eyebrow.

"Perhaps." She gave him the look from under her lashes that made his stomach tighten and his body pulse urgently.

Thoroughly annoyed, Loki surged to his feet. He held out his hand to her but she didn't take it.

"Not with that face." She said coolly, still staring at the now empty throne.

Loki growled angrily, but he worked his magic so only she could see his true face as he led her out among the dancers. The music changed as they took their places, a mild tempo that allowed him to draw her close towards him and then spin her away. Every step that pulled them together, brought him the tantalising scent of the jasmine she'd woven into her hair and the sweet perfume she'd dabbed strategically. Her bodyheat from the dancing released the heady scent of the peach lotion she had scrubbed into her body. Intoxicating.

This simply would not do. He could dispose of Lord Darr, he thought idly as the dance parted them again. He pondered the man, who was dancing much too closely with a young pretty thing a few partners down. Hardly worth the effort, though, lots of fuss and his family would probably complain. She would never reject him now, not now he had issued the challenge. Which meant he would need to convince Lord Darr to go away.

As the dance ended, he allowed her to slip back into the crowds, his mind churning with plots.

Eira circulated idly. She fluttered her lashes at handsome Lords, exchanged catty comments with their wives, gossiped with the Ladies, accepted offers to dance and generally did everything she was supposed to do besides speak to her unofficial betrothed. She was just gulping down another glass of wine, hopefully enough to push her into that lovely frame of mind where everything was a little fuzzy and less irritating, when the worst happened.

"Oh no."

"Darling! Is that any way to greet your family!"

It had somehow slipped her mind that her parents would be invited to this debacle. Oh she absolutely did not have the patience to deal with this at all. She allowed her stepmother to hug her, ignoring her twittering as she kissed her father's cheek. She nodded and smiled like an obedient little doll as Lady Atla rattled on and on, dropping ridiculously unsubtle hints. She couldn't deal with this. She was not nearly sober enough to keep her tongue civil and not quite drunk enough to be mellow.

She opened her mouth to make an excuse when that ridiculous fool bounced over. She sorely wanted to slap the satisfied smile off his face. Her stepmother immediately descended on him with relish, digging into his family and their history, their lands and wealth, how many children per generation. Good lord.

"Excuse me."

Eira didn't wait for a response, knowing she was being inexcusably rude, she turned on her heel and walked away from them. She made her way out onto the huge balcony, the cool evening air immediately soothing her mood. She wandered away from the doors and lights of the gala so she wouldn't be seen, leaning against the marble wall gratefully. She had been so caught up in the game, she had barely acknowledged that this was serious. There were consequences for these decisions. Could she marry that idiot? Spend her days with him, nodding along to his idiotic babble, watch him eyeing up the servant girls as they went about their business. He could bed as many servant girls as he liked, of course, she couldn't care less whose bed he slithered into. She didn't like, however, the prospect of being the wife who gets side-eyed at Court, the gossips chattering behind her back about her husband taking up with the pretty newly arrived idiot girl.

Could she really ruin her life, just to spite her prince?

She let out a surprised laugh as she realised that she actually would. She would certainly marry that philandering cretin, take control of his finances as she pleased, punish him for every indiscretion he was too stupid to conduct in secret, and generally make his life a misery. And it would infuriate her prince, she realised with relish.

Taking a deep breath, she felt much calmer. She absolutely did not want to marry if she could help it, but if she had to… she would turn it to her advantage.

"Lady Eira?"

She braced herself, organising her frame of mind in preparation. Lord Darr was clearly drunk, but thankfully not beyond reason. He beamed at her, rushing towards her across the balcony. His parents were also at the gala, and were clearly in favour of him finally settling down. She wasn't foolish enough to believe he was this happy merely at the prospect of marrying her, his father must have removed the threat of cutting the purse strings.

"Leif." She said sharply, cutting off the nonsense spewing from his mouth. "Come here."

He stepped obediently towards her like a happy puppy. Once he was within reach, she put her hands on his chest. He blinked at her owlishly. She had treated him rather unpleasantly the last few weeks, either refusing to be anywhere near him or flirting with him unmercifully without following through. He looked nervous at her sudden affection, and the thought pleased her.

He was too stunned to react when she pressed her lips against his, luckily his mouth had more experience than his brain. After a few moments she drew away from him, looking up at him curiously.

"Yes, I think I can live with this." She said thoughtfully, pushing him away from her and heading back into the gala without looking to see if he followed her.

Well that was certainly something that had happened. It had officially been announced that Lord Darr was courting her for marriage. The fake pleasant smile on her face had almost become real when she saw the disappointed looks on so many pretty dumb faces in the crowd. Anyone who imagined her future husband would stay faithful to her, was clearly new at court. In fact the only good thing about this entire situation, was the unadulterated fury on Loki's face when she had stepped back into the gala with her lipstick smeared, Lord Darr following her looking dazed and with scarlet on his chin.

He had leapt to his feet, looking ready to strike them both dead where they stood, and had had to disguise it by declaring it was time for the announcements. They had dutifully lined up before the throne, hands clasped and fake smiles prevalent. Three other couples were also officially courting and Eira had to force herself not to roll her eyes at the blushing giggling moron beside her, who kept making eyes at the irritated looking Lord at her side. To amuse herself, Eira fluttered her eyelashes at him and, much to his new betrothed's chagrin, he gave her a long inviting look.

"Lady Eira."

Eira gave the newly enamoured Lord a small seductive smile and then turned to face Loki. He looked ready to commit a massacre and she grinned. If he was determined to continue this debacle, she was damn well going to make sure he suffered for it.

"Perhaps a song."

She gave him a deferential little curtsy and stepped away from the crowd. She had anticipated this. She positioned herself slightly in front of his throne, but turned a little so she could see him. He was slouched back in his throne looking thunderous. To the rest of the crowd she knew he looked merely bored, perhaps a little distant at the gala thrown for lovers when his own beloved wife was recently gone. To her, who knew him better than anyone now Frigga was gone, he was absolutely furious. And she was glad. He deserved it.

"You've been on my mind
I grow fonder, every day
Lose myself in time
Just thinking of your face
God only knows why it's taken me
So long, to let my doubts go
You're the only one that I want
I don't know why I'm scared, I've been here before
Every feeling, every word, I've imagined it all
You'll never know, if you never try
To forget your past and simply be mine
I dare you to let me be your, one and only
I promise I'm worthy, to hold in your arms
So come on and give me the chance
To prove that I'm the one who can, walk that mile
Until the end starts
I've been on your mind
You hang on every word I say
Lose yourself in time, at the mention of my name
Will I ever know, how it feels to hold you close
And have you tell me
Whichever road I choose, you'll go?
I don't know why I'm scared
'Cause I've been here before
Every feeling, every word
I've imagined it all
You'll never know if you never try
To forget your past and simply be mine
I dare you to let me be your, your one and only
I promise I'm worthy, to hold in your arms
So come on and give me the chance
To prove that I'm the one who can, walk that mile
Until the end starts."

She very deliberately ignored him as she sang, letting her gaze meander over the crowd instead. When she was done she accepted the applause with a demure little smile and retreated back to her new fiancé.

She was already bored. She had dutifully danced with her new betrothed, listened to his babble and smiled sweetly at his parents. She had no idea why they had to play these games, they were all very aware that his parents never would have agreed to have their son court her, if she hadn't passed their rigorous research into her family and character. Now they smiled and bobbed and gushed at their pretend introductions. Ridiculous.

Feeling slightly dangerous and willing to cause a scene, she made eye contact with the bored Lord from the betrothal announcements. His teeth flashed as he grinned. He was vaguely good-looking, a slightly weak jaw and protruding ears making him unremarkable, but she wasn't interested in his looks. She was in the mood to provoke.

She lifted her eyebrows at him with a little head tilt and he immediately came running.

"Perhaps a dance, to celebrate your good fortune, My Lady." He simpered, bowing over her hand with a flourish.

She politely excused herself and allowed him to lead her out to dance. He was a surprisingly good dancer, his steps were confident and rounded and his body moved with the music. He would be an adequate lover, she noted in amusement. Not that she had any intentions of taking things that far. Probably.

They danced until the music changed and he had an excuse to touch her waist a little more, lean a little closer than was necessary, shoot her the bedroom eyes he had probably used on his increasingly stony-faced betrothed. Eira wondered if he'd accidentally gotten her in the family way, that would explain his annoyance at the betrothal. He seemed the type, a little too cocky to be that experienced in seduction.

When she was bored of causing a scene, and before his little betrothed could disgrace herself by bursting into tears, Eira extricated herself to grab another wine. Lord Darr pounced on her immediately, his face pink with alcohol and annoyance.

"Lady Eira-"

"Go away, Leif." She ordered without sparing him a glance.

"But-"

"Go away or I shall scream."

He goggled at her, his face darkening, but he did step away from her.

She danced and drank well into the night, feeling reckless. Once the respectable members of the Court had retired for the evening, she joined a gambling table and won an impressive amount at cards. She didn't want to stop, she was worried that if she did then the consequences would catch up to her and she wasn't ready to think about that yet.

When dawn was creeping into the hall, and most of the revellers were dropping where they stood, she finally made her way back to her chambers.

As expected, he was waiting for her. His anger had crystallised into icy rage and he was calm and cool. She ignored him, tossing her heeled slippers into the depths of the room.

"Help me, Prince." She ordered.

He contemplated for a second, decided to concede for now. He unlaced her dress with dexterous fingers, exposing smooth creamy skin as he went. The dress was so tightly tailored that he had to help her wiggle it over her hips, smoothing his hands over the curve of her waist. She had been unable to wear an under-slip beneath the tight dress, so only a scrap of lace now stood between them. He forced himself to concentrate. Next he took the pins out of her hair, releasing it curl by curl so it tumbled over her shoulders in a scented cloud. He pushed his hands into it, drawing his nails over her scalp until she purred with pleasure.

"I know what you came for." She finally said, still looking away from him.

He drew her hair back and ran his tongue over the bare curve of her shoulder.

"Hmm?" He prompted, tracing the delicate bumps of her ribs with his hands.

"You came for your question."

Taken aback, his hands stilled on her body. He had been so distracted by her nakedness and the bewitching smell of her hair, he had completely forgotten their bargain. She had indeed given him a song. He sighed in disappointment, stepping back from her. She stepped daintily out of the dress still puddled at her feet and pulled on her robe.

"Go ahead, Scheherazade."

She still didn't look at him, she placed one hand on the post at the corner of her bed, facing towards the window. She had left the balcony doors open to provide a breeze and the curtains fluttered towards her faintly.

"When I marry, will it pain you to know I take another to my bed?"

Loki instinctively opened his mouth, then closed it. He bit on his tongue. The very thought made him want to break something apart with his bare hands. Still, he had promised her the truth. Or his variation of it, anyway.

"Yes." He admitted curtly, deciding not to tell her that idea of her wrapped around another man was poison.

She didn't reply, but he thought he saw some of the tension leave her shoulders. He wanted to shake her. She was no simpleton, she knew perfectly well how much he wanted her. Why was she forcing him to admit it, what did she gain from that? For the love of all that was holy, he had even contemplated disguising himself as Lord Darr and sneaking into her bedchamber, but he had dismissed the idea. When he finally had her, he wanted her to see him and only him.

He was beside her in a moment, taking her into his arms and crushing her painfully against him. His mouth was violent against hers, his silver tongue flickering skilfully and his teeth nipping her lips until she whimpered. When she pushed him away so she could gasp for air, the scarlet paint from her lips was smeared all over them both so he looked as if he were bleeding. His white teeth flashed dangerously from the depths of the red and she shuddered.

"Rest, my little nightingale."

He let go of her suddenly and she had to struggle to keep her balance. He was gone in an instant, leaving her alone with her desire.