Temptation

Fruit...

"Those ones. Yes, right there. The soft, ripe, juicy, ones." His eyes never left her face. His voice, low and husky, chewing the words almost. She felt the heat in her cheeks. And between her thighs. Odin's beard he was hot.

He briefly looked away, and her uncle bowed low. "Of course Your Highness. I will have them delivered. Your desire, my command."

"Yes... desire... my desire..." his eyes flicked back to her, and she saw sparks in the emerald gaze. A blonde male companion spoke into his ear, and he snapped back to reality. "For ODIN'S SAKE! Can I not have ONE DAY without that OAF getting in the way."

The moment was lost. "You, girl, bring that order to my chambers. Be sure to deliver it personally." He tossed a bag of coins at them and turned away. "Now, Fandral, what has my idiot brother done this time...."

Eva stood and watched, mesmerised as the younger son of the Allfather strode away, entourage in tow. He was arrogant, impetuous, cold, and a serial womaniser. Everyone knew it. Everyone. So why in Helheim did she still find him so irresistible?

And why did she get the feeling there was more to his request than just the desire for ripe peaches.

"EVA!" her uncle snapped at her. "You heard him, gather the order together, and take it. Now. Who knows, if we serve him well, he may want more."

"That's what I'm afraid of Uncle Erik ." She replied softly.

Now her uncle's expression softened. "I know, child, I know. But you must understand that we can not afford to turn anyone's business away. Not even that Jotun runt's."

The true feeling he held towards the younger of the princes coming to the fore, he sighed. "We should not judge, I know, but...." he looked around in case he was overheard."He's just so... strange."

Eva gathered a bag of their best peaches and, with an afterthought, added a couple of crisp green apples. Her uncle looked at her questionningly. "Well, it won't harm us to advertise our other wares a little, will it?"

Erik laughed. "I can see I don't have to worry about you, child. You're as sharp as your mother Mathilde ever was. May Queen Frigga rest her soul." He kissed her cheek. "It's time you found a husband - and a life - you don't want to be hanging around an old man like me for the rest of your days!"

Eva smiled, "You're not old uncle, you're just... a mature youngster!" She grinned and tucked the fruit into her bag. "I won't be long. I can drop these off with his servants and be gone before he gets there."

She was gone, picking her way through the thronging market before he even realised she'd deftly avoided the conversation again. She was too good at it. In another life, she'd be a worthy adversary for someone like that young prince. Erik shook his head and turned to his next customer.

"Ahhh Agnetha! More apples? Does that family of yours live on them?"

Eva made her way through the crowds of people. Today was sunny and warm. It made people relaxed, it made them generous. The traders would do well today.

She waved to a woman selling bread. "Anna! You ok? How's the foot?" The older woman perched on a crate to sell her freshly baked wares.

"Getting better, thanks, dearie. How's your brother?"

Eva paused and decided to lie. Again. "Oh, he's fine, thanks. Wont be back for a bit. Seems trade in Vanaheim is good. I better hurry, this fruit will go off in the heat... bye!"

Anna waved her goodbyes and tossed her a fresh roll, still warm. "For your lunch. Pay me later!" They both knew later would never come. It was just like that. Unspoken lies and generous acknowledgement.

Eva had been a little girl, her brother only a few years older when her parents had been killed. Just another couple of casualties in the ongoing sagas that made up Asgard's history.

Their uncle Erik - her mother's brother - had taken them in. Now, her brother was gone. To be an apprentice trader. Or so they told people. Truth was, they didn't know where he was. One morning, he'd left the house and simpky never came back.

Pride? Shame? Denial? Who knew why they'd made up the story, but now, almost twenty summers later, they had given him a whole new life. They only hoped he was enjoying it.

She made her way towards the palace. The smell of the spices, the sounds of the market, the sun on her back, all as familiar as her own face. She paused to look at a stall selling silks. If only she had cause to wear anything like that. Being a working class family meant exactly that. They worked. Hard. There was no time for the frivolities in life that afforded people the chance to wear beautiful green silk dresses.

Green. There it was again. Like fate, stabbing her in the side. His colour. The prince.

Loki was never seen in anything other than green - or black - and always in leather. Tall, astonishingly handsome with alabaster skin and silky raven locks, he'd always stood out. His brother, as blonde and blue eyed as Loki was dark, had always been an unnatural contrast.

When the truth had come out - about Loki's parentage - it had made sense. It had also made him an outsider. And cruel. Or so he'd wanted people to believe.

In truth Loki was no more cruel than he was Asgardian. The one thing he was, however, was proud. Noone, not even his own adoptive mother, would see how much Odin's treachery had hurt him. Now, years later, his reputation preceeded him.

If only he could trust someone enough to be vulnerable. If only they could see past the veneer. If only he wanted them to.

Women gad come and gone. Nobles and commoners, it had made no odds. They warmed his cold bed if not his heart. Only recently, things had changed. He had changed. When he looked at the girl.

As he'd looked at the fruitseller and his... daughter? Or was it his neice? he'd been taken aback by her gentle nature and her cold steely gaze.

A gaze he'd wanted to soften. A gaze he'd wanted reserved for him alone. A gaze he'd yet to put a voice to. She'd resolutely avoided him, and his usual charms it seemed.

She seemed, in fact, more like him than either would care to admit. She had a secret. That much he could see for himself. Maybe, just maybe, if she told him hers, he could....

"Your Highness the Allfather requests your presence.... it seems Thor has been at it again and you're needed." Fandral broke into his thoughts. Was there to be NO peace?

Throwing money at the vendor, he could only hope his command was obeyed. If not? Well, who knew WHEN he'd get another chance to buy her. No, no, buy fruit... yes fruit...good Gods in Valhalla. What was she doing to him?