Working Title : Loki & Annie

43 Meetings After midnight

Myrun crept down the corridor, this late it was even darker since there was only the faintest light coming solely from distant torches. She had hardly been able to finish her duties and claimed an unsettled stomach to avoid going to dinner. Both Arna and Solva had once more scolded her for their belief she had forced them to go with her into the dark Prince's chambers. They'd had little sympathy for her complaint. She had remained in her small room as the noises from the hall had grown quieter and less frequent. She had waited until after midnight before starting out, partially to avoid anyone and partially because that was the soonest she could convince herself to leave the safety of her room.

Now standing in front of the Prince's door she couldn't force her hand to knock on the wood. She tried but couldn't do it and was about to flee, oath be damned when the door flew open and she was drug forward into pitch black. The door slammed behind her and she stood still, not even breathing.

Finally, a dark chuckle was heard and she felt the softest brush against her cheek as a voice she recognized said, "Breathe little maid, you do me no good fainting to a heap on my floor."

Myrun followed orders and inhaled a gasping breath, feeling lightheaded in the dark. A faint light began to glow, the lightest green forming into a ball over the large settee. She still couldn't see much more than that, the rest of the room seemed to absorb the light.

"Sit."

"Your Highness?" Myrun's voice was a confused squeak.

"Sit. Down." The voice lost some of its humor, "I have no desire to pick you up from my floor." 

Moving slowly since she couldn't see her feet she finally made it to the settee but still remained standing. "You wish me to sit? On your settee, Your Highness?"

Now the voice was exasperated, "Since it doesn't appear that you brought your own, yes. I want you to sit on mine."

Myrun reluctantly perched on the very edge, she had never sat on any furniture other than what belonged to the servants. She let out a yelp when she felt something grasp her by the hips and yank her further back.

"By the Norns, girl. You're troublesome. Or else not very intelligent." The voice was clearly annoying.

Something about the attitude caused Myrun to retort in an equally vexed tone, "How was I to know what you were about? I'm a servant, I'm not allowed to sit on Your Highnesses furniture."

For a moment there was silence and Myrun felt a growing sense of fear. Then there was a chuckle that grew louder until it was a remarkably easy laugh. "Well, that should put me in my place." And just as sudden as a blink, there he stood only a short distance in front of her. He tilted his head to the side while he grinned, "Sort of like a muddy pet, hmm?"

Myrun's mouth had opened with a whispered gasp when the Prince had appeared and now at his jesting insult, she snapped it shut. She had no desire to retort and get on his bad side. She had heard stories of servants who had offended the Dark Prince then disappeared, never to be seen again.

Loki seemed to have an inkling of her thoughts because his grin grew more knowing for just a moment before a frown replaced it. "You took your time returning." A comfortable-looking leather chair appeared behind him and he sat without looking, turning so his legs were hanging over the arm.  

Now Myrun's gasp was much louder, magic, again right in front of her ordinary Asgardian eyes. 

"I was getting ready to think you had broken your oath."

Myrun swallowed, she had been just about ready to do that when he had pulled her into his chamber.

A sly look came over Loki's face, "Ah, you were thinking of it, weren't you." He held out his palm and dark green flames appeared dancing on it. It cast his face in moving shadows, giving his features a menacing glow. "You should be thankful you fought the desire, you wouldn't have enjoyed the consequences." All humor fled from his voice. "Don't be tempted again. Do you understand me, girl?"