Honor
Exiting the Great Hall, you turn to walk down the hallway, your dress bellowing with every sway of your hips as you hear a familiar voice call out behind you.
“Y/N!”
Turning around, a smile brimming on your cheeks, you watch as your best, and only, friend gallops towards you, her flowers flying off of her head as she steadies her bosom with her hands, running down the hall and jumping into you, her legs wrapping around your waist as you spin her around.
“And just where do you suppose you are off to?” she says, chuckling as you set her down.
“You look absolutely radiant, Sif,” you say, setting her down and taking her hands in yours as you swing them in front of you. “Thor is an incredibly lucky man,” you say, giving her a playful wink.
“I saw Loki…” she says hesitantly, her eyes searching for a reaction that you were trying to bury.
“It’s alright. I wasn’t there for him,” you lied, “I was there for my best friend.”
“It’s an honor, to be considered your best friend.”
Sighing, you recognize that tone of voice.
“How long have you known, Sif?” you ask her.
“Known what?” she says, trying to feign confusion.
“Known about…me,” you say, eyeing her back in a questioning glare.
“Oh, Y/N, do not be mad,” she pleads. “I promise Miss Frigga meant absolutely no harm. She just thought that you could use someone that knew…someone other than herself, with whom you spent your free time.”
“Someone like you,” you say, unable to hold back your smile any longer.
“So you aren’t angry!” she rejoices, throwing her arms around you.
“Not at all. I’m honestly more relieved than I’ve ever felt in quite some time,” you proclaim.
“We have much to talk about. Lunch tomorrow?” she asks, backing away from you as she slowly heads back to the Great Hall.
“Lunch tomorrow,” you confirm, a giggle playing on your tongue as she turns and races back in, quickly straightening herself up before walking gracefully back through the entryway.
Smiling and shaking your head, you turn out towards the nighttime sky, walking towards the balcony. Once again entranced by it’s light and it’s beauty, the waters of Asgard spilling over the edge..falling into the precipice of god-know-where..your eyes widen in wonder as you cast your gaze upon Heimdall and the Bifrost, him and his great staff at the helm of it all.
Walking over to the edge, placing your body weight on the sound marble railing, you raise your hand to wave.
Catching a blast of wind, you gasp as you stumble back in your heels, hitting your back up against a large, solid object.
“Oh, my god!” you breathlessly exclaim, throwing yourself around as you come eye to eye with that infamous medallion in the middle of his chest.
Your breath hitching in your throat, you cast your gaze downward, the words of greeting flying from your mouth before you have a chance to think.
“Good evening, My Prince.”
As silence fills the empty air, you continue with the niceties that you had rehearsed in the mirror for hours on end.
“I hope that I have not disturbed your evening during this time of rejoicing. I only come in peace to enjoy and bless a friend in her newfound journey.”
Feeling his fingertips under your chin, he pulls your gaze up to his, the shackle around your neck stopping your head midway. Watching his torso move, he dips down to meet you the rest of the way, his eyes burrowing into yours.
“You look ravishing tonight, Miss Y/N.”
Trying to quell the air of confusion, you hear him lightly chuckle at your reaction.
“Please forgive me, I was just a bit taken aback when I saw you this evening.”
Bowing your head again, much to his finger’s disapproval, you lace your hands in front of your body as you say, “You shall always be forgiven, My Price, when it pertains to myself.”
Hearing him sigh lightly, you try to detect why the light sound of disapproval was once again heard within his voice.
And you couldn’t hide it any longer. You could no longer be the strong woman that you needed to be…the mysterious woman you had assumed he wanted to chase.
Your lip trembling, and your hands shaking, you reach out for his hand as he turns his back to you, pleading with him to not walk away…to give you one more chance to prove your worth on this planet that has accepted you so fully and completely.
“Just tell me what to do,” you whisper.
Hearing his head turn back to you, you quickly let go of him, crossing your arms across your chest as you shiver, your scarf that was once covering your bosom fluttering off of the balcony.
“…M-My Prince,” you stutter, almost forgetting how to address him, “Just tell me what you need. Anything you need, anything you want, anything you wish…I shall give it to you. I just…I just want to stay…I need to stay,” you finish, your voice barely above a whisper as the skin on your arms and around your neck starts to prickle with the chill of the evening dusk.
“Loki!”
That bubble-gum voice ruptures the moment.
“Aren’t you coming back to the party?” she playfully whimpers, pulling on Loki’s arm as she tries to drag him back to the dancing.
“Woman, you shall know your place!” he bellows, ripping his arm from her as she stands there, wide-eyed and rigid.
“But I thought-”
“You are not here to think,” he hisses, his body fulling turning towards her as you slowly walk backwards, pressing your lower back into the balcony, your eyes widening at his sudden change of demeanor.
“Loki, I-”
“You were nothing but a warm body my father wanted me to attend this ball with,” he spits as you hear his anger swell within his voice.
“Leave me be,” he growls deeply, turning his back on her as she whips around on her heels. You could hear her start down the hallway, stomping with every drop of her foot like a child. Raising your gaze, you saw her stance standing tall as she humphs with every thud of her heels, her nose high and her ball-gown swishing from side to side.
“S-she…she’s not a concubine of yours?” you ask, your voice trembling as you continue to stare after her.
“No,” Loki states. “’Concubine’ is a special place, only reserved for one. A concubine is not just a sexual instrument, but an individual chosen out of many.”
Walking to get into your field of vision, he takes your hand within his as his gaze drops to meet yours.
“A concubine is there to provide emotional needs as well as sexual, exploring interests and providing companionship. A concubine is not just a piece of property, but a way of expressing the feeling of loneliness as well as filling it within the same moment. It is an outward expression of a very basic set of needs that one may feel is not being met. So, in acknowledgement of my loneliness and unfulfilled sexual, as well as mental, needs, I took a concubine. You.”
Taking his finger and once again tilting your head, he crouches down to meet your gaze, “You are not just a play thing. You are a wealth of knowledge waiting to be explored; a tantalizing combination of spirit and humility that is astounding. You are a mystery, and a kind soul, and someone that I was drawn to even amidst the chaos of war.”
As your eyes involuntarily well with tears, Loki draws you in for a hug, wrapping his arms around you as he pulls you close to his chest.
“I know that this is all very overwhelming and different, but you are special, Miss Y/N. And despite how our sexual encounters have played out up until this point, I greatly enjoy your company. Those moments where you have sat in my room, back straight, watching me read my books, listening in with intent as I start to read aloud…accompanying me to lunches and dinners as you tastefully giggle at my jokes…walking with me through the gardens of Asgard as I crave the smell and nourishment of fresh air…it fills a void of loneliness that I have been burdened with for quite some time. A feeling that I no longer wish to feel…”
Searching for a set of words that do not come, you feel Loki’s hand slip down to your lower back, pressing down ever so lightly so as to guide you back down the corridor.
Stopping just short of the entryway into the Grand Hall, you turn to him, your eyes lifting up to meet his.
“As you wish…My prince.”
Watching him grin his devilish smirk, you slowly lower your gaze back to the ground, and as you do, you feel his hand rush to your neck, his fingertips pressing into the sides of it as you jerk your head up, swallowing hard as your spine shivers against his touch.
Defector number two.
“You are Prince Loki’s concubine, and in this castle, that is a place of honor. People in places of honor do not watch the ground like peasants. Hold your head high and be proud to be privileged.”
And as you gaze out along the sea of people gyrating and filling their stomachs with 12 different kinds of booze, Loki takes your hand and guides you to the dance floor, his arm wrapping around your waist as he slides his leg ever so lightly in between yours, guiding you across the dance floor as the people start to stop and stare at Loki’s new…
Loki’s new…
Loki’s new something.