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Later that day (Pronouns used for Loki: they/them)
The sun had begun to dip below the horizon, casting a soft, golden glow over the Asgardian palace as Loki stood before the gathered suitors. They paced back and forth, their eyes observing every movement as the maids distributed sketchbooks and pencils to the contestants. The second part of the first contest was about to begin.
"Thank you," Loki said, giving a nod of acknowledgment as the maids stepped back to allow the suitors room to work. "Each one of you has half an hour to design your garments for tonight's ball. All your sketches will be collected and given to the seamstresses who will bring your designs to life. In the evening, I will rate each of your creations, and the scores will determine the winners. The three suitors with the lowest points will be sent back to their home realms tomorrow."
Loki paused for a moment, their gaze sweeping across the assembled contestants. "Time starts now."
The suitors immediately began sketching, each one lost in their own thoughts, trying to translate their ideas onto the page. Loki walked slowly along the row of chairs, observing each of them closely.
Their thoughts wandered for a moment. The tasks their father had chosen felt unfair to Loki. After all, everyone had their own strengths, and not everyone was gifted in the same areas. But when Loki had voiced their concerns to Odin, the Allfather's response had been firm: A future ruler's partner must be skilled in everything. Loki had long since learned that arguing with Odin was pointless.
Stopping behind Sylvie, Loki paused to admire her work. The Jotun princess was drawing with delicate precision, her design as cool and graceful as the ice from which she came. Loki’s lips curled into a faint smile.
"Good work," Loki complimented, and Sylvie looked up, offering a small, appreciative nod. Loki continued their walk, taking in each sketch with a discerning eye, their gaze lingering on Astrid’s work.
Astrid’s gown design was a striking shade of green—clearly chosen to impress Loki. It was a bold move, knowing green was their signature color. The gown itself had a flowing, elegant design with intricate silver detailing, but Loki couldn’t help but feel that it was a little too obvious. A calculated attempt to win favor.
Loki observed them all, noting the little details that revealed the contestants' personalities through their designs.
Evening
When the ball began, Loki opted for a simple yet striking outfit—a black suit, paired with a satin tie in their signature color, emerald green. They moved through the ballroom, their eyes scanning the crowd, evaluating each suitor's creation as they mingled.
One ensemble caught Loki's eye more than the others—a baby blue Renaissance-style suit worn by Njal. The flower-like stitching on the fabric was delicate and beautiful, and Loki couldn't help but admire how the color complemented Njal’s blueish-turquoise eyes. The prince was certainly a contender, Loki thought, but they didn’t let the admiration distract them for long.
Their thoughts were interrupted when Sylvie entered the ballroom. Her presence seemed to draw all attention, and Loki couldn't resist making their way toward her.
"Good evening, Lady Sylvie," Loki greeted her, taking her hand and placing a light, courteous kiss on her knuckles. "You look exquisite tonight."
Sylvie's lips curled into a smile. "Why, thank you, Prince Loki. I must say, you look rather attractive as well."
Loki gave a small, appreciative bow. "May I have the honor of this dance, my lady?" they asked, holding their hand out in invitation.
Sylvie accepted, placing her hand gently in Loki's as they moved to the center of the room. The soft strains of music filled the air as they began to dance, their movements in perfect sync. The room seemed to fade away as the two of them lost themselves in the rhythm of the music, their steps elegant and fluid.
Meanwhile, across the room, Astrid stood near the balcony, drink in hand, speaking with Sigyn. Loki’s eyes briefly flicked toward her, noticing the way Astrid’s gaze darkened when she saw them dancing with Sylvie.
"Look!" Sigyn said to Astrid, nodding toward Loki and Sylvie. "They’re such a great dancer, aren’t they?"
Astrid's grip on her glass tightened, her knuckles whitening as she muttered under her breath, "That little slut. Taking the prince all for herself."
Loki couldn't help but overhear the venom in her words, but they didn't let it show on their face. They simply continued to dance with Sylvie, lost in the moment.
When the song ended, Loki smiled at Sylvie. "Thank you for the dance, Lady Sylvie," they said. "I hope you enjoyed it."
"I did," Sylvie replied, her voice soft. "Thank you."
Loki made their way toward the drinks, their eyes scanning the room once more, noting the interactions between the suitors.
Later, as Sylvie wandered off to chat with the other suitors, Loki observed Astrid's movements from a distance. The light elf seemed to be watching Sylvie, but her eyes were full of something else—envy.
Just as Sylvie passed her, Astrid "accidentally" tripped, sending her drink splashing across Sylvie’s gown. "Oh no! I’m so sorry!" Astrid cried, feigning concern as she stepped back, pretending to be horrified by the mishap.
Sylvie, ever graceful, whispered that it was fine, trying to clean the stain off her dress. But Loki had seen the whole thing. They had watched as Astrid had deliberately tripped, her smirk barely hidden as she walked away, clearly pleased with herself.
Loki’s expression darkened. They had seen enough. Astrid was playing a game—one Loki wasn’t sure they wanted to be part of.
Without a word, Loki turned away, making their way toward the back of the room. It seemed that the competition was getting more intense with every passing moment.
