Shakespeare
With an inward groan, and the events of the night before still vivid in her head, Ash rolled over to silence her alarm five minutes before it was due to go. She had slept rather badly and now she wanted nothing more than to get out of this room. Shooting a quick glance at Loki, who had his back to her, she hurried out of bed and shot towards the door. To her dismay it was still locked.
“Where do you think you’re running off to?” His voice cut through the air, clear and crisp.
Ash bit her lip. “I need to go to work.”
“And how long will that take?”
She exhaled. “The whole day, thereabouts.”
There was a pause. Then she heard the sound of the lock sliding back, which filled her with relief. Before she could open the door, however, Loki was suddenly beside her, causing her to start in alarm.
“This had better not be your way of trying to escape,” he hissed.
Ash shuddered. “Look, I promise I’m just going to work. I’ll be back later.” Then, feeling that it would be the only way to get a reaction from him, she glanced at her feet and whispered “Please just let me go, Prince Loki.”
With a smirk, Loki caught her chin in one hand and forced her eyes upwards. “You’re learning. That wasn’t so hard, was it, pet?”
Ash shook her head, not trusting her voice. He released her and stepped back from her. Ash took her cue and hurried into the bathroom, deciding that she would just skip washing her hair for this morning and just have a quick shower before getting dressed. She went as quickly as she could go, all the while keeping an eye and ear out in case Loki suddenly barged in on her. She wouldn’t have put it past him.
Ordinarily, she supposed that if a God from any religion or pagan society appeared to her, she would have questions, but Loki terrified her too much for her to even venture asking anything about where he was from – wherever that was. She struggled to remember her Norse mythology; wasn’t it called Asgard? That sounded familiar, and it would make sense with what Loki had said the night before – that he didn’t sound English but she sounded Asgardian. At any rate, his whole presence terrified her; whether it was the tricks, how fast he could move or possibly even the fact that he had threatened her life, she wasn’t entirely sure.
Suddenly work seemed like the safest place in existence.
Throwing her dressing gown around her still damp body, she snatched up her pyjamas and hurried into the bedroom. Thankfully Loki had vacated it, it seemed, and for a moment she dared hope that he might have gone for good and allowed herself to relax as she pulled on the long black dress with white collar and cuffs over a pair of black leggings and her boots as quickly as she could without getting too hot and bothered. She quickly swept her hair up and around in as neat a bun as she could manage and lightly applied her foundation and lip balm before hurrying into the kitchen to eat.
“Mm, black suits you, pet,” Loki mused from the sofa where he was reclining once again. “I wonder how you’d look in my colours.”
Ash felt her heart begin to pulse in a panic that she tried to quash down as she swallowed hard. “Would you like something to eat?” He raised an eyebrow, and she added, with force “Prince Loki.”
Loki smiled. This was easier than he had anticipated. “Indeed, I find myself quite famished.”
“Well, I haven’t got much,” Ash confessed, going to the cupboards. “It’ll just have to be toast.” When Loki looked blank, she added “You know, bread that’s been toasted. With butter.”
“You mean like in prison?”
“Look, it’s all I can afford right now,” Ash all but snapped, and then immediately regretted it. His eyes flashed darkly although he made no move towards her. Blushing furiously, she stammered “I mean, it’s all I’ve got, Prince Loki.”
Loki studied her a moment. Ash met his gaze, even though she was nervous. She was a strange pet, snapping one minute, scared the next and then brave enough to meet his eyes. “It will suffice,” Loki said, finally.
With a nod, Ash turned her back on him, although she could feel his eyes boring into her the entire time she was making breakfast. Automatically she brought his first before carrying her own into the living room. Due to Loki commandeering the sofa again, she made for the chair, but he stopped her with his words.
“Sit there.”
He was indicating the footstool. Biting back the sharp retort that he couldn’t tell her where to sit in her own flat, Ash did as she was told, wondering whether it was to do with the fact that he deemed himself above her, or the fact that he was now calling her a pet. At any rate, she didn’t argue, simply wolfed down her breakfast whilst watching Loki muse over the fact that something so simply made could taste do good.
Getting to her feet, she found herself stopped again by his words. “Did I give you permission to get up?”
Ash flopped back down onto the footstool. “Now I have to ask permission?” Loki shot her a mischievous look and she sighed. “May I be permitted to get up, Prince Loki?”
“You may, pet.”
Ash sighed as she took the plate from him. “Do I have to ask permission for anything else? To go to the bathroom, perhaps? Or put the kettle on? Or-?”
She was suddenly cut off with a frightened gasp as Loki pinned her against the wall again. “I thought I told you to have a bit more respect in your voice when you address me, pet,” he hissed.
Ash averted her gaze. “I apologize, Prince Loki,” she said, stubbornly.
“Perhaps you need a lesson in manners,” Loki mused, his breath tickling her cheek he was so close.
“Can’t it wait?” Ash raised her head. “I really need to go to work.”
Loki released her, once again with surprising force that brought her to her knees. Before she could get up, he had seized the back of her neck and raised her slightly as he bent to whisper in her ear. “Be warned, pet.” His voice was softly dangerous and she shivered. “If you don’t come back tonight, I will track you down. No matter where you try and hide I can find you. And when I do, I will punish you so that by the time I’m done you won’t be able to run anywhere. Is that clear?”
Ash managed a nod. “Crystal.”
Loki dropped his hand and she waited, wondering if he wanted her to beg for permission again. Then, she dared get to her feet without it. Surprisingly he didn’t stop her. With trembling fingers, she snatched up her bag and her paperwork, keeping an eye on him as he wandered casually over to her bookcase. Taking a deep breath, she ventured “Would you do me a favour, Prince Loki?”
He turned to her. “I don’t do favours for people, pet, and least of all for you.”
Ignoring that, she went on “If you’re going to stay here all day, please don’t turn my flat over or anything. I mean,” she added, as he stepped up to her, and she felt a shiver run down her spine again, “I just don’t want to come home and find I’ve a mess to clear up. Please?”
Loki’s eyes seemed to stare into her soul before he replied. “Very well, pet, you have my word. This place will be exactly as you left it at the end of the day.”
“Thank you, Prince Loki.” The words were beginning to feel scarily natural on her lips by now. Without another word, Ash all but ran out of the flat and hurried as fast as she could to the newsroom building. She had never been more relieved to see the building in her entire life as she tumbled through the door and hurried to the top floor with the magazines. The Editor chose where to distribute them to. Then, once that was done, she returned to her own office with a pile of envelopes to be franked and set about sorting through them. Halfway through the day, her co-worker Mark came by with a trolley full of newspapers that needed de-stuffing, and that took up the rest of her day, bar a quick break when the sandwich van came around, and by the time she had downed her sixth cup of tea of the tea, she had all but forgotten that she had to go home to a trickster God.
Though she did spare him an idle thought, as she ate, wondering whether she ought to have left him some lunch, or whether he might have figured out how to make something for himself. Hell, he was a God, for crying out loud; why was she worrying about him being fed? He could probably just make food materialise whenever he needed it.
It was only when Mark, on his way out, casually asked her if she was looking forward to just crashing into her bed tonight after all the work she had had piled on her throughout the day that she actually remembered her illicit lodger. Forcing a smile, she agreed, all the while inwardly dreading going home. She wondered about lingering as long as possible on her way back, but a short bout of English rain made that impossible, so she actually ended up back at the flat earlier than anticipated.
Shaking her hair down from its bun as she entered, she listened, cautiously. For a flat that was supposed to have had another person in it all day, it was eerily quiet. With a mingled sense of dread and unease, Ash made her way into the kitchen. To her surprise, Loki was stretched out on her sofa again with his head buried in her old copy of King Lear.
“You’re back,” he commented, without looking around.
“Did you miss me?” Ash couldn’t help quipping. Loki answered with a smile but said nothing. She watched him a moment, fascinated by how interested in the book he seemed to be. King Lear wasn’t one of her favourite plays, even though she was a Shakespeare fan, but she had retained the copy from her college days and hadn’t the heart to throw it out.
“See something you like, pet?” Loki asked, finally raising his eyes to look at her.
She blushed. “I just can’t believe how into that play you seem to be. Are you enjoying it?”
“So far.” Loki glanced back at the page. “It is fascinating the way this man plays with words.”
Tentatively, Ash perched on the sofa arm. “So, who’s your favourite character so far.”
“Edmund.”
“Really? But he’s the villain.”
“I think you’ll find he’s actually an ambitious young man who only seeks his father’s praise but is in fact shunned because of his illegitimacy, hence his desire to get rid of his brother and rule the land as the rightful ruler,” Loki reeled off, his eyes still on the page.
Something about the way he spoke told Ash that she had hit a nerve, like this was a scene all too familiar to him, and she got to her feet. “Are you hungry, Prince Loki?”
“Ravenous,” he answered. “What are you making?”
“Depends what I can find,” Ash answered, wondering what she had enough of to cook for two people as opposed to the usual one. Hoping for some inspiration, she asked over her shoulder as she began rooting in the cupboards “What kind of things did you used to eat back home?”
“Whatever our cooks happened to prepare,” Loki answered, irritated by such stupid questionings.
“Oh, well, fat lot of help you are, then,” Ash muttered, slamming the cupboard door shut. Before she had time to start thinking, however, Loki was suddenly at her side and had seized her by the hair. “Would you care to repeat that, pet?” he asked, dangerously.
Ash winced. “Sorry, I take it back. I didn’t think-”
“Say my name,” he hissed, giving her a little shake.
“Prince Loki,” Ash all but whimpered. “Please let me go; you’re hurting me.”
“Hm.” Loki chuckled, observing her pain. “You’re easier to control than I thought, pet. Perhaps I won’t need to teach you manners after all.”
He released her and Ash rubbed her head where he had pulled on her hair. Forcing herself to be civil, she stammered “How do you feel about pasta?”
The look on his face indicated that he had never even heard of the stuff. “Is it edible?”
“Yes.”
“Then by all means, make it.”
Ash watched him as he wandered casually back over to the sofa, took his seat and resumed reading again. Still rubbing her head, she set about preparing the pasta, praying that he wasn’t allergic to anything she’d put in it. That was all she would need, to incur his wrath even further.
“Where is he from?”
She glanced up in the direction of the sitting room. “Sorry?”
“This William Shakespeare; where is he from?”
“Stratford.” Then seeing his confusion, she elaborated “That’s just a few hours North West from here by car.”
“Hm. Perhaps I should pay him a visit.”
Ash laughed. “You’d be lucky. He’s been dead for about four hundred and fifty years.”
Loki was silent a moment. “And yet people still read his works?”
“People still play his works,” Ash corrected him. “His plays are the ones all the actors want to be in. It’s like you know you’ve made it big, or you’ve got amazing talent, when you get cast in a Shakespeare play. He’s the greatest playwright in the world.”
Loki glanced up at her bookshelf. “You’ve got a lot of his books.”
“Yeah, well, I’m one of his many fans,” Ash replied, the sudden bizarre nature of the turn this conversation had taken passing her by completely by now. “I suppose it’s, like you say, the way he plays with words.”
Loki glanced back down at the book. Edmund’s words reflected so much of his own feelings. “Was he illegitimate?”
“Who, Shakespeare? No. But his daughter almost was. He had to marry his girlfriend quickly because she was expecting.” Ash paused. “Why do you ask?”
“He writes it so well,” Loki answered, shortly.
Ash smiled. “I like to think he understood people. And he put a lot of that in his writing.”
She busied herself with stirring the pasta whilst Loki busied himself with finishing the book. The tragic ending somehow made it all the more enjoyable for him, although he wasn’t sure how to feel about Edmund’s death. He supposed that most people would think he had had it coming, because he was evil. Loki found himself reflect on Odin’s reaction right before his fall from the Bifrost. Odin probably thought that Loki had got what he deserved, when Loki knew that it was far from the truth.
“It’s ready!” Ash’s words kept him from all but throwing the book at the wall in his bitterness. Without a word he swept up from the sofa, leaving the book lying on the footstool, and joined her in the kitchen. He glanced down at the strange mass of food she placed before him on a plate and then raised an eyebrow at her. Nervously, Ash stammered “It’s good. Trust me.”
Taking her at her word, he slid into a seat, watching her fill two glasses with water and bring them to the table. “Sorry I haven’t got much else,” she apologised, her blush deepening under his scrutiny.
Loki said nothing, merely speared some of the “pasta” with a fork and tried it. It was all he could do to hold back from moaning in pleasure at the taste. It had a strange texture, somewhere between hard and soft, and felt somewhat slippery to touch, but it was like nothing he had ever tasted before in his life. Fair play to this girl, annoying as she might be, she could cook. Ash waited, anticipating his reaction with baited breath. Noticing this, Loki took up another forkful of the stuff. “It’s good.”
Ash managed a smile. “Told you,” she said, before taking a mouthful from her own plate. They ate in silence, but it felt quite companionable nevertheless. Watching him, closely, Ash found it hard to believe that this was the same God who had just moments before been ruthlessly holding her by the hair and causing her to beg for mercy. He was so changeable. In a way, that made it worse. She had no idea when he was suddenly going to turn.
The trick, she supposed, was not to aggravate him. That way she could be sure of staying alive.
That being said, though, such a feat was easier in theory than in practise.
It finally came to a head when she was finally ready to sleep. She managed to sort of tiptoe around Loki as she washed up, not saying anything unless he spoke to her, and then busying herself with a vast amount of filing she had brought back with her, all the while very aware of him reading her copy of Hamlet on the sofa, but keeping an eye on her at the same time. Finally, feeling she might scream if she saw one more file tonight, she clambered to her feet. The footstool wasn’t that comfortable to sit on, but Loki had commanded her to sit on it again, and she had decided against arguing.
“It’s getting late,” she informed him, and he looked up from the book. “I should go to bed.”
“Very well,” Loki replied, closing the book whilst mentally marking his place to pick it up the next day and getting to his feet. Ash turned and made her way to the bedroom. Before she could pick up her pyjamas, however, Loki was in the room beside her. She jumped. “Um, do you think you could give me a little privacy, please, Prince Loki?”
“Why would I want to do that, pet?” Loki returned, raising an eyebrow at her.
“Because,” Ash said, trying hard to control her temper, “I’d rather not have you see me without any clothes on, Prince Loki.”
What he did next both shocked and terrified her. With a flick of his hand, and magic, she assumed, he had removed her dress, leggings and underwear, leaving her in just her boots. With a shriek, Ash snatched up the duvet to cover herself.
“Hm,” Loki smirked, sadistically. “Those boots really do suit you. Perhaps I should keep you like this more often.”
Without thinking, Ash brought up her hand and slapped him.
The sound echoed throughout the flat. Straightening himself and feeling the sting with her back of his hand, Loki shot her a murderous look, even though his voice held a hint of amusement when he spoke. “The kitten has claws after all, then.”
Snatching her dressing gown, Ash flung it around herself and hurtled from the room, slamming the bathroom door behind her as she leaned on it.
“Doors can’t keep me out, pet,” Loki reminded her, his voice so clear it was like he was standing next to her, or inside her head.
Shuddering, Ash slid to the floor and folded her arms around her knees, pulling her dressing gown tighter around herself. She felt like sobbing, but she just couldn’t bring herself to somehow, so she sat in silence, shaking. The thought that Loki could remove her clothes like that was terrifying. How could she feel safe around him knowing he was capable of that?
“Pet, if you don’t come back in here in the next ten seconds I will drag you out of there myself,” came Loki’s voice from the bedroom.
Knowing that challenging him would only provoke him, Ash stumbled to her feet and did as she was told. He was reclining on her bed, his hands tucked under his head and his eyes closed. Not entirely convinced that he was half-asleep, however, Ash turned her back on him as she hurried to pull her pyjamas on and her boots off before she climbed onto the bed beside him.
“Hm,” Loki mused without opening his eyes. “Pity; I like those boots on you.”
“Please just let me sleep, Loki,” Ash begged, closing her eyes.
“Oh, I plan to, pet.” She started as she felt his hand touch her head and then begin to stroke her hair. “You’re no use to me exhausted.”
The motion of him stroking her hair was oddly soothing and, in spite of herself, Ash found herself drifting off to a peaceful sleep, the rhythm of her breathing soon matching Loki’s own as he too fell sound asleep beside her.