Frozen heart

Chapter 3

Someone in this palace favors me...

Loki.

I break into a sprint, not caring if it rips or dirties my dress. I run to Loki's chambers. I need answers, clarification, something. I bang on the door, he better fucking open it.

He owes me that much. He owes me more than that, but I'll settle with what I can get. He opens the door, still in his regal armor, and my thoughts almost slip out of my mind.

"Hm? Lady Y/n, why are you here?" His tired voice is lower, and he sounds so nonchalant... fucker.

"I know you favor me. Your father told me so. You owe me an explanation." I say straight-up. I'm a blunt woman, and I need someone who doesn't beat around the bush, someone unlike him.

He groans, scrubbing a hand down his face, as if he were trying to wake himself up.
"Are you not grateful that I have given you extra accommodations? Should I reap them from you?"

He always has to complicate things, which makes my blood boil. Can't men just say what they are thinking?!

"You know what I mean. Why are you doing this? Just to fuck with me?" My voice raises, "Just to make me overthink? To—"

I'm cut off my his hand clamping around my mouth, his arms pulling me into his room and closing the door behind us.  He whispers almost frantically, "Shut up, for the love of the gods, shut up." How dare he? I attempt to speak through his hand, but he presses me  against the wall, speaking in a lower tone.
"I said shut up. Now, you close that bloody mouth before make you, pet."

My eyes snap open, my blood flowing like water through a pool jet. The pet comment makes my blood rush to my face against my will. First I'm fighting him, now I'm fighting against my son damn body?! I can hear it in my ears like an ocean. I seize my efforts to speak; maybe I should hear him out?

Loki sighs, tilting his down so his face is turned to mine. "You don't know when to stay quiet, do you? I don't want my servants to hear this, or worse, the other aristocrats. I have a reputation."
My hands tighten into fists until my knuckles turn white. Is that what this is about? A reputation? He waffles back and forth with what he says, like he thinks he's Shakespeare or something. Why can't he just be blunt? Damn him.

He slides his hand off my mouth, but I don't speak, I want him to finish his sentence, to make sure he means what he says.
"If anyone found out I'm the one who is taking care of a mortal, I might as well hand myself publicly. But I understand you, damnit. I understand how it feels to feel lower than everyone because of how you look; because of our differences. And I wanted..."
He pauses, and my breaths quicken subconsciously.
"I wanted to make you feel more welcome than I do here."

Fuck. Every time I start to hate him, he pulls out this weird, caring side of him, that I just can't stop thinking about. I finally speak up.
"I'm sorry. I should've... I'm sorry." Why is this guy making me apologize? I never apologize to a man unless it's truly my fault...

"Good, you should be." There it is. That cocky, bastardized man I met a few days ago. He flips his personality like a switch. I move myself off the wall, opening the door to leave his room, but he speaks before I leave.
"Don't run in the halls again, it scuffs the floor."

Fuck him.

A few days later, in the palace courtyard:

I stretch, pulling my shawl taut around me. I'm wearing a sweater and thick pants, but even either all this and the heating spell, the shawl still brings me some unexplainable comfort.  Sitting in the bright snow, I watch the dog escape from my lips with every hot breath I take. In, out, inhale, exhale...

Crunching snow brings me out of my daydream, and into this reality. It's just Thor, thank the gods.
I swivel to see him, and he sits down in the snow next to me.
He looks a little shorter, but it could just be because we're sitting down.

"So, I saw you practically ogling Loki at dinner a few nights ago. He's never that... well, not rude." Thor grumbles.
He's not wrong. I've seen Loki interact with other aristocrats since that dinner, and he's never been that gentle. Could be pity, like he said, but damn, do I hope it's more.

"Yeah, I-uhm... yeah." For once, my words are gone, and I stutter. The fuck? I am not some quirky wattpad motherfucker. So I gather myself.
"Yes, so what? I don't care how he treats others."
Lies. I spit lies.

Thor rolls his eyes, which I've never seen him do. He sighs before speaking, but his breath doesn't make fog...
"Well, how do you feel about that? You know? About him?"

Is Thor seriously asking if I have a crush on his brother?
"Well, maybe I feel infatuated, but that's all. Nothing more than morbid curiosity, I suppose." I love opening up to Thor, it's just so easy. But this time, it feels warmer, like a flutter that wasn't there before. Not love, but comfort.

"I see." Thor stands up, brushing the snow off himself. He doesn't even shiver, he must have gotten used to the cold quickly.
"So do I have to worry at all about you falling for him?" He inquires.
I just shake my head no, my teeth chattering a bit as a breeze runs past me.
"Thank you, darling."
He never calls me darling, maybe it's something new he picked up from being here?
Thor walks away, leaving me with my thoughts. My empty, useless thoughts.

Why was he acting so weird?