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 'Move You' by Kelly Clarkson

If I Knew

Chapter Twenty One

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 slept late into the day. Once she finally awoke, she called for food and bathed herself as she waited for it to arrive. Luckily, the sleep and food cleared any remnants of a hangover as she dressed but her bad mood continued to linger. Even worse, she was expected to dine with her parents and her in-laws to be. She had no patience for any of those fools today. Certainly not her fiancé. She stared at herself critically in her looking-glass. Her eyes were a little reddened from excess and her face was paler than usual from fatigue but otherwise she looked as she always did. Flawless. She'd chosen a sky-blue gown in watered silk, higher at the neck than usual to give the impression of innocence that she certainly didn't possess. In fact she looked pretty and demure and the thought made her laugh.

Feeling slightly better, she headed in search of her step-mother who had "arranged" the day's activities. An ominous thought if ever there was one.

In fact it was worse than she'd thought. The gushing and buttering-up began immediately, her step-mother falling over herself to be likeable to Leif's parents. His parents certainly seemed stiff and proper, no wonder Leif had gone wild the minute he'd been left at Court unsupervised. Sensing they were old-fashioned in their thinking, her step-mother quickly adjusted her personality to fit, fussing over walking between her and Leif like a chaperone and dropping painful hints about "the wedding night" being a shock.

It all flowed right over head as she obediently followed her father and Leif's through the corridors towards the back of the palace. She wondered idly what both sets of parents would say if she suddenly told them that once upon a time, she'd let a very rich, very married, slightly depraved Lord who'd taken her fancy, bend her right over that bench they were currently passing and take her where anyone could have stumbled across them. The idea of being caught had been the thrill of course. She'd gotten bored of him very quickly and left him to his next, more innocent and therefore more easily corrupted, victim.

"Are you feeling well, my dear." Her future mother-in-law twittered suspiciously. "You're rather flushed."

Eira lowered her head sweetly and gave her a pretty little smile.

"It's just the heat, Lady Darr." She purred deferentially.

Leif eyed her suspiciously over his mother's head. He knew perfectly well that she wasn't the slightest bit sweet or demure, and he was trying to figure out what game she was playing. She ignored him. She hadn't actually lied, it was very hot and as they stepped out of the shade of the palace and into the gardens, she felt the heat beating down on her head and shoulders unmercifully.

"I thought a trip on the river would be a splendid idea, away from this heat." Her step-mother warbled and she forced herself not to groan.

She absolutely did not want to be trapped on a boat with these people for hours on end. Still, she dutifully followed the men to the dock where a grand barge was waiting for them. As Leif took her hand to help her onboard, she let her fingers slide against his teasingly, peeping at him from under her lashes. He eyed her warily. If she was going to be forced to waste her day on this godforsaken boat with these ridiculous people, she was going to get some amusement out of it.

An old friend of hers had once said, rather nastily it had to be noted, that Eira was only ever happy when she was playing her little games with someone. That friendship had ended acrimoniously a few years later when Eira had made it her purpose to discourage any likely suitors from taking her friend to wife. It was almost silly how something as simple as whispered words and fluttered eyelashes could deter a man from anything. It had certainly done the friend no favours to then accuse the Queen's favourite of being a whore, especially when Eira hadn't actually touched any of those men, or allowed them to touch her. In fact Frygga herself had pointed out that if they were so easily swayed, they can't have been fully enamoured with the idea of taking her to wife in the first place. The friend had left Court the following day.

Eira pondered this idly as she nodded and smiled and simpered to Lord and Lady Darr, not listening to a word they prattled on about and trusting her ever faithful step-mother to fill in the gaps where she should have replied. Rather than engage in such mind-numbing conversations ("You cross-breed new plant species to make them prettier, how fascinating do elaborate!" "I always say to my husband that we should visit that area more often, the water works wonders for the stressed body." "Oh I do believe we are acquainted, we had lunch together not too long ago and the china it was served on was simply stunning!") she had made it her purpose to torture poor Leif to within an inch of his life.

She had slipped her dainty feet out of her silk-slippers beneath the long skirts of her dress and casually ran her toes up the inside of his calf, making him jump in surprise and apologise to his mother for startling her. He had shot her a nervous look that she had ignored, peering calmly out at the riverbank as they moved through the water. When her step-mother had started handing out the dainty little finger-foods that had been packed for them, she had taken the opportunity to slide a little further along the wooden bench of the boat towards him. He tensed as soon as her hip had brushed his and shot a glance at his mother, who was busy eyeing the delicacies greedily so luckily hadn't noticed. Eira found it highly amusing how nervous he was, considering their intimate past.

She utilised all the tricks she could; allowing her thigh to press briefly against his, turning so the curve of her breast was prominent through the thin silk, tossing her head so her hair caught the light and exuded the scents of her shampoo and fresh flowers. When they passed another barge heading towards them and had to swerve gracefully to one side of the river, she allowed herself to tip gently against him, close enough for him to feel her breath on his neck and for her to see the effect she was having on his body.

His face got redder and redder as their journey went on, until he started to inch away from her to save his sanity. She smirked inwardly, pleased to know that if she was being made to suffer, so was he. When they finally docked by a lovely little meadow, he practically leaped out of the boat away from her. His mother gaped after him as he scuttled ahead of them on the pretext of finding a suitable spot for a late luncheon.

"I do apologise, Lady Eira." Lady Darr's lips were so thin they had almost vanished as she glowered at her son's departing back. "My son can be overeager to please, sometimes."

Eira, who had first hand experience in how "overeager" Leif could be, managed not to respond as she wished and simply smiled politely. She managed to grab her father's arm as Lord Darr fell back to accompany his wife over the uneven ground.

"Darling." He beamed at her happily and, for a moment, she felt guilty for being such a difficult daughter. Only for a moment, though.

"Father." She popped onto her toes to brush a kiss against his cheek.

"Very nice chap." He said, jerking his head back towards Leif's parents. "Has a racing stable, you know."

Ah, that explains the immediate camaraderie. She felt a rush of affection for her honest, earnest father and she squeezed his arm.

"Boy seems a decent sort." She glanced sideways at him, he was eyeing Leif thoughtfully as they approached where their table and food was under preparation under Leif's instruction.

"Hmm." She hummed non-committally.

She felt her father put his hand on top of hers where it lay in the crook of his arm.

"Does he make you happy?"

She didn't reply, turning away from Leif. No. Of course he didn't. No one could make another person happy, they could only contribute to happiness. Leif would never do that. He didn't take away from her general satisfaction with her life, but he certainly didn't add to it. Still, she had never expected to marry, to tie herself down in any way, so he was probably the best of a bad lot. And he needed her more than she needed him, to keep his father sweet and his pockets full of gold from the family coffers. So he'd do, if anyone had to.

"You need only do what makes you happy, child." Her father said softly, avoiding her surprised glance.

She looked down at her feet. What increased her happiness was an infuriating Prince with an ego the size of a planet. With wicked blue eyes that curled her toes and made her body pulse. That happiness wouldn't last, though. Neither of them were made to be chained to another. They had wild spirits that would utterly resent being contained.

"I know, Father." She sighed, extricating herself from him as they arrived at the table and she was dragged back in with the women.

Leif, the utter fool. Eira scowled to herself as she stomped around the gardens angrily. He'd ruined all the fun she'd managed to wring out of this dreadful day by lunging at her the second their parents' backs were turned. Admittedly, she had been toying with him all afternoon, but that did not give him the right to pounce in such an unseemly fashion. She could have screamed, of course, brought palace guards down on them and the proposition of marriage would have been whipped off the table in an instant. But that would have meant her having to be rescued, and she had no intention of giving her Prince the satisfaction. No, she'd seen him off with a resounding slap that had sent him staggering back into the wall. For a second he had seemed so confused and so hurt, that she had almost felt sorry for him. But it passed and she'd flounced away with her dignity intact.

Now she was prowling around the gardens in the early evening twilight, alone with her plots and her furious thoughts. She had spent a lot of the day thinking about her past lovers, and drawing the annoying conclusion that she'd reached a point where she couldn't ever go back. Even toying with Leif and watching him squirm like a worm on a hook in front of his prim and proper parents hadn't been nearly as satisfying as it should have been. And she knew why.

"Hello, nightingale."

She felt her whole body tighten. She had been too deep in her thoughts to register his arrival, but her body reacted instinctively as it always did.

"Such a pretty little thing in this light." He purred, his hands stroking her shoulders through her dress.

"Hello, Prince."

He cocked his head slightly, sensing something in her tone that was different. She turned towards him, her eyes large in the fading light.

"Did you enjoy your river jaunt with your beloved?" He taunted, his dexterous fingers busy unweaving her elaborate braid.

"It was… enlightening." She said softly, looking away from him.

He frowned. Why wasn't she biting back. This was what they did, and they did it well. She turned back to him suddenly.

"I want to go to the grove."

He stared at her, for once mute. What a strange little creature she was, he mused as she walked away from him in the direction of the grove. Perhaps the little outing today had solidified for her how foolish this whole marriage idea was, he thought pleasantly. Yes, spending her days rabbiting politely and keeping geriatrics sweet, certainly sounded disagreeable. Perhaps she'd finally come to her senses and was about to beg him to save her from this silly little betrothal. The idea put a spring in his step as the reached the grove. It was a pretty little patch on the palace grounds, hidden from the many windows by a circle of ancient trees. Inside the trees was a flat stretch of grass that was often used for picnics and other nonsense, and a placid little pool. The grove was deep enough for a horse to stand in and the water to cover its head completely, but the water was always clear and cool. Isolated too, he thought happily.

He'd expected her to take this opportunity to turn her pretty eyes on and him and start begging. In fact he was already preparing a speech in his mind on how he couldn't possibly intervene without something in return, when he realised that far from grovelling, she had walked away from him. What was she doing, he thought sulkily. Her dress shone in the waning light as she crossed the grass towards the pool. His mood perked up considerably as he realised she was undressing. What was going on in his little nightingale's head, he pondered as she slipped out of that wretched dress that had hidden all his favourite parts of her.

She was wearing a slip under the dress, unfortunately, but he admired her long shapely limbs as she strode confidently into the water. Now he'd frequented this pool often, and he knew it was always cold as a result of the trees overhead blocking the sun. His body stirred pleasantly at the knowledge that her pale slender body would be pearling all over in the cold water. He watched her dip under the water, surfacing a few moments later with dark hair slicked back from her face.

He contemplated joining her, not wanting to scare her off but certainly having every intention of getting hold of her in that wet slip somehow.

"If you're just going to leer you may leave." She called imperiously, ducking her head back to soak her hair again.

The audacity, he fumed as he stripped quickly out of his clothes. The water was indeed frigid and, had he been anyone else, he might have worried about the effect on his anatomy. Instead he waded through the water towards her, marvelling at the sight of her. The grove was dimly lit by the rapidly fading sun struggling to penetrate through the trees, but he could see her well enough. Water sluiced from her wet hair down her bare shoulders and chest and he licked his lips, watching with interest as a large drop strolled casually down the contours of her lovely throat and disappeared between her breasts under the slip. That slip would need to go, he decided.

"Prince." She sounded distracted and that would not do, her focus must be on him and him alone. "Do you ever think of what your parents had planned for you when you came to them?"

What? He had been distracted by the sight of her hardened nipples poking temptingly through the thin silk of the shift. What was this nonsense now? Did she have to spoil the mood?

"Is that your question, nightingale?" He deflected, wading closer to her until his feet left the bottom and he had to drift. "I haven't had my song, yet."

She pursed her lips in annoyance. That was better. He was beside her in a flash, his bodyheat mingling with hers through the water. She tilted her head towards him and her face was pale and lovely in the darkness.

"Always a condition…" She murmured thoughtfully, and when she smiled her teeth shone.

She had been laying back slightly in the water, now she straightened up and drifted towards him. He took her into his arms immediately, revelling in the feel of her warm body pressing against his below the water. That blasted slip tangled their legs and he considered how to rip it off her without making her cross. Although she was exceedingly attractive when she was cross. Her arms wound around his neck, her wet fingers coiling into his hair and tugging slightly so he grunted.

"Like a montage in a movie, right before the hero dies
Like the first time that you listen, to your favorite singer live
Like an echo in a canyon, like tears but you're not sad
Like a sunrise on a mountain
I wanna move you like that
Oh, I wanna move you like that
Like a symphony at sundown, in the middle of July
When a lyric really gets you, and it breaks you down inside
Like the home that you were raised in
Like faded photographs
Like the thrill of Christmas morning
Yeah, I wanna move you like that
Like a solemn Hallelujah
Like a choir shouts Amen
Like your first time falling in love
Or a stairway up to heaven
Like a soldier who is falling, as he holds his country's flag
And he fights for freedom's calling
I wanna move you like that
Like an endless fire burning, like a hope that fuels the light
Like the hands that simply hold you, when words can't make it right
Like the first time that I met you, I fell so hard, so fast
Like the montage in a movie
The way you move me
I wanna move you like that."

Her voice was intoxicating as she sang in a low sultry hum. She'd laid her cheek against his as she rested her weight on him, her breasts pressing against his chest as she sang. He was thoroughly entranced. The beat of the song was incredibly arresting when combined with the press of her nearly naked body against his own nakedness, his legs kicking lightly to keep them afloat as they drifted through the water. Her fingers stroked the back of his neck and tugged at his hair and he could feel the vibrations of her throat against his. It was insanely erotic.

She moved back slightly when she was done, holding onto him as they spun in little circles in the centre of the pool. Her eyes were unreadable but her mouth was tantalisingly close, her lashes star-fished from the water that was beading her cheeks.

"Well?"

Her breath was warm and sweet on his lips and his grip on her waist tightened a little. It took him an interminable amount of time to put the pieces together and realise that she was waiting for his response to her question.

"No." He said. "No one's plans ever mattered but my own."

To hide the fact that he was being more truthful than usual, given how knocked off balance he was by her naked proximity, he planted his mouth firmly on hers. She sighed a little, sagging against him. It was immediately obvious that it was rather challenging to kiss her thoroughly and keep them both afloat, while also trying to let his hands roam. He slid his long thigh between hers and she gasped, her grip on his neck tightening.

"Prince." She breathed when they parted for air, rocking her hips slightly under the water.

Loki was irritated. He'd been intimate under the water before and it was less than satisfying to say the least, the mechanics were too much effort and the water reduced the necessary sensations. However, this was heading in a very promising direction so he must tread carefully. But. That wretched slip had to go. He hoisted her in the water until she rested on his thigh, giving him a little stunned look of confusion that was inherently appealing, and then gripped the back of her soaking slip and ripped it cleanly from her body.

She gasped as he wrested the material from her body and let it drop into the water to float away.

"How dare you." She seethed, glancing over her shoulder at the expensive material drifting out of reach.

He didn't bother to explain himself, why change the habit of a lifetime, instead he crushed her tightly against him. She wriggled indignantly in his grip, her slippery skin making the whole thing more than exciting.

"You beast." She scowled, trying and failing to struggle out of his grip as the water sloshed around them.

Loki laughed and he felt her shudder against him, dodging her flailing arms to drop a kiss on her neck. He let her wiggle and rage and even took a few blows to his chest and shoulders until she finally stopped, panting and glaring at him. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were sparkling.

"Are you going to force me?" She demanded, her chin tilted as if she'd like to see him try and still get away with all appendages attached.

"Not at all, nightingale." He was using that voice that sounded exceedingly predatory and dangerous, the one he knew she liked.

She glowered at him, but she didn't move away. He took that as a good sign and he traced his clever fingers over the bumps in her spine beneath the water, watching her skin break out into gooseflesh. Their bodies had acclimatised to the temperature of the water by now, so his mouth was very warm as he littered her damp shoulder with kisses. She hummed lightly with pleasure, stroking her fingers through his hair. She was so lost in his caresses, she didn't even notice he'd paddled them back to the shore of the pool. He lifted her out of the water, holding her against him as he stepped onto the grass. He lay her down, surprisingly gently, watching her shiver at the feel of the cool grass on her wet skin. He settled himself down above her, continuing his gentle ministrations as he ran his fingertips over every inch of exposed skin.

He was curious to find that this was not going at all how he'd imagined. This kind of gentle seduction was something he usually reserved for virgins he was intent on deflowering. He had expected her to be far more aggressive, but he couldn't say he was displeased. He lavished attention on her naked body for what seemed like hours, stroking her skin as it dried in the warm evening air, dropping kisses and little laps of his tongue in the wake of his fingers as she sighed pleasantly. For once in her life she remained obediently still as he worked, her hair spread beneath her like a fiery halo and her eyes half-shuttered.

He waited until she was deep in her daze of lust, her body attuned to his every movement and her heart pounding rapidly under her breast, before he parted her thighs. He waited, half expecting a fist to fly at his head, but she remained in place. He admired her nakedness hungrily, her flawless ivory skin bright against the dark of the grass, flushed and warm from his attentions. All for him.

She squirmed pleasantly at the first touch of his tongue and he placed his palms on her thighs to keep her in place. His head was heady from the experience, finally having his little nightingale exactly where he wanted, writhing and squirming and under his control even as she tangled her fingers into his hair tight enough for little sparks of pain to play over his scalp. She lay panting when he was done, her breasts rising and falling rapidly and the most enticing flush on her throat. He let her catch her breath, lying beside her with a lazy palm on her taut stomach.

"I do feel better now, thank you Prince." She said sweetly and he lay back in the grass to preen smugly.

The smile dropped rapidly from his face when she rolled away from him and reached for her discarded dress. He watched in stunned silence as she tugged on the dress and fluffed out her damp hair. She wasn't just walking away? She couldn't be. It was painfully obvious what he required, he could hardly move his legs with how hard he was.

She turned back towards him with her silk slippers in her hand. He looked genuinely gobsmacked… and thoroughly confused. How delicious. He also looked incredibly tempting. The entire naked length of him sprawled in the grass, his hair rumpled where she'd played with it and his impressive hardness looking entirely mouthwatering. Her sensitive loins throbbed needily, but she forced herself not to go to him. She was a little concerned what he'd do if she got within reach.

"Goodnight, Prince."

She focused on walking steadily away, refusing to run even though she felt his dangerous glare between her shoulderblades. She half-expected him to attack her in some fashion, at least chase her down, but he remained where he was as she disappeared into the trees.