Armor

You awake to the glow of dawn through sheer satin curtains. Your bare body is wrapped in heavenly soft Egyptian silk, one thousand thread count you've been assured. You feel as if you are in heaven and debate with yourself on whether or not to go back to sleep. As your eyes drift shut the fresh scent of mint and the spice of mischief float through your nose and sleep is no longer an option as a familiar tingle shoots through you. With a sigh of deep and thorough satisfaction, you roll onto your back and stretch the kinks from your body, almost like a cat, full of grace and dexterity. You are alone in the room, but you can still feel him, feel his warmth next to you. You exhale softly, reveling in the comfort that surrounds you in this place, in this large overly plush (but not in a bad way) bed. A bed which is situated in the middle of the far wall of the grand sleeping chamber. A chamber built for a prince. As you roll around on the soft fabric that cloaks your naked form you breathe deeply, taking in every scent, every aroma that clings to the material and wafts through the air, making the space so conclusively his.

With a soft groan you sit up, searching around the bed for something to wear, you may be in private, but you still wish to be modest, classy. You have a prince to impress after all. You soon become aware of the fact that your clothing is missing and while confusion tickles the corners of your mind you consider using this as an excuse to remain in bed. That is until you notice the green garment draped on the foot board. You slide to the edge of the bed, swinging your legs over the edge and placing your feet on the floor. You are still clutching the sheets to your body partly out of aforementioned modesty and partly for the sheer comfort the material brings you.

As you stand from the bed and make your way to the end, you begin to wonder where the owner of this chamber has gone to. He has always been an early riser you know, but a part of you hoped you would be enough to keep in place longer than usual. You throw these thoughts away as a feeling of sadness creeps over you and grab up the garment that was left for you. You examine it before placing it on your body and sigh in bliss as the soft green silk soothes across your skin resting about mid-thigh with a slit up either side. The top is held to you with thin straps, while the neck line dips rather low. Apparently he does not share your idea of modesty, an ironic fact you find yourself chuckling at.

With another sigh you push the thoughts away, and turn about your place, looking around the room. Decorated simply, tastefully, something you are sure no one else would believe given the owners propensity for the eccentric. Suddenly it is there, behind you that you find something to catch your attention. Was that there last night, you don't recall, but then again you were a bit preoccupied last night. You make your way over slowly, to the object or objects rather that have captivated you. A simple stand sits in front of you, upon it is displayed a glorious set of battle armor. Gold makes up the intricate chest plate as well as the individual pieces of chain mail. The chest plate was held to the rest of the garment with pristine black leather and beautiful, luminescent green fabric, a color similar to your own garment. A cape of black flowed from the gold and leather shoulder guards, resting in all its length against the marble floor beneath your feet. The fore arm protectors are similar in beauty and style. To crown this glorious piece of art, as that is the only word for something so magnificent, a golden helmet with harsh angles and long bovine type horns that curl back, adding height and uniqueness to the head protector.

You are in awe of what is in front of you, and you cannot resist the urge to run your hands across the flawless, mirrored gold. You observe your own reflection, taking in the revere on your own face. You can't seem to take your eyes off of this piece in front of you and it is with great reluctance that you finally take your eyes away from the chest piece. You're not too reluctant though as your eyes travel to the helmet, ghosting over its every curve, every angle, observing its flawless build. You marvel at the idea that it couldn't possibly be a single piece of gold, that would be ridiculous, or course. Even as you think it you know it's not as impossible as you would like to believe. It truly is amazing what the dwarf king and his people are capable of.

You are lost in your thoughts when he returns, so much so that you do not even hear his approach, nor notice his presence as he comes to stand behind you a ways. A smirk, conservatively you may even call it a slight smile, graces his elegant features as he watches you admire his hand crafted armor. He watches you for a few moments more before he clears his throat, startling you out of your thoughts. You turn abruptly, finding amusement playing across his face. "Loki" you breathe softly, your eyes conveying innocence as if you were just caught with your hand in the cookie jar. He chuckles at your child like demeanor and approaches you slowly, looking you up and down like a predator appreciating it's potential prey. It is quite obvious that he pleased with his choice in attire for you.

He moves to stand directly in front of you, toe to toe. He stands nearly a head taller then you forcing him to bend lower to reach your ear. "Green is definitely your color darling." He says ever so softly, raising goose bumps on your skin. Your face flushes as the deep timber of his voice resonates through you so smooth, so dark like the black silk of his bed sheets. One of his large, elegant hands lifts to your shoulder, brushing your hair off of it, leaving room for him to gently cup the side of your face. You lean into his touch, finding comfort in the coolness that always sits, undisturbed, on his skin. You can feel his eyes on you and you open yours meeting his vibrant green orbs. You stare into each other's eyes for a few moments more before he pulls away; walking passed you to stand before his armor. "You seem so captivated by it." He tells you. It's a statement of an observation not a question and yet you feel the need to reply. You tell him what you really think, that it seems more like a piece of art then protection from harm. He chuckles, reaching forward to run his fingers over the smooth surface of the chest plate. He's thinking, you can tell, because his eyes are glazed and he's starring into what you perceive as nothingness.

As he stands there before you, distracted by what he sees you can't help but study him, looking him over almost as predatorily as he had looked you over not moments before. He is dressed rather casually today, a mix of black leather silver chain mail and forest green fabric. You recognize these as his riding clothes (what he wore to jotunheim). No doubt meaning he was out for a stroll on horseback with his brother and the warriors three.

What seems like an eternity later, he retracts his hand from the polished surface and turns to you, his hands clasped behind his back in an authoritative pose. He always likes to play the boss but you know better, he's like a teddy bear to you. You stand there, watching him as he slowly walks a path around you until he is standing behind you. You can feel his eyes looking you over and once again you realize how much he loves the choice he made for you in clothing. You feel him step closer until he is directly behind you, his warm breath lighting a small fire on your skin. Oh how you love the way he towers over you. It seems like forever that he doesn't move, just stands there. You feel your nerves winding tighter and tighter as you wait for him to do something, anything. You're so tightly wound that when he does move you jump, tensing as he ghosts his hands up your bare arms. His chuckle resonates through you, soothing you and you lean back into him, your back to his chest. You feel him hum in approval as he leans over your shoulder and gently lays kisses up your jaw.

"Your reactions are precious." He whispers into your ear. "Even after all the fun we had last night, you're still so sensitive." He continues long and low. You take in a deep breath trying to calm yourself. He's not having it. Slowly he moves his hands from the air around your arms to your waist. He waits to rest them there, building the tension. You sigh in relief when they finally grab onto your hips, and smooth slowly around to your front. You close your eyes lulling your head back to rest on his shoulder. He chuckles again, taking the opportunity you present him and sucking lightly on your neck. He chuckles again when a small moan escapes your lips. You scowl to yourself realizing that he might just be mocking you. It's definitely not beneath him. Defiance shoots through you and you pull away from him turning to face him with a glare on your face. He reveals nothing but amusement because he, of course, is the one person in the world who understands your independent nature. That's what drew him to you. It's hard not to fall for someone who does not swoon for you the way all others do.

He steps forward as you cross your arms over your chest and step back. He steps forward again, and you intern step back. This dance continues between you until you find you've run out of room, bumping into the wall behind you. His smirk grows as he takes your momentary distraction to close the distance between you. "Always have to play the hard ass don't we." He says with humor in his voice. You look away fully intending to keep your wits about you. Gently he places a finger under your chin and guides you to look at him. "I thought we settled this last night, my dear." He continues his amusement only growing as you scowl up at him. "You can't resist me…" he says leaning closer. He moves in, his lips ghosting over your own. "…As I cannot resist you." He finishes, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. All thoughts of defiance have left you as you begin to forget why you were against this a moment ago.

When he pulls away you can't help but sigh, wondering why you had ever thought he wasn't worth your time. You can still remember the day you met so clearly.

You'd met months ago, a party held at the palace and you had been lucky enough to receive an invitation. You knew few people there and so you found yourself keeping to yourself most of the time. At some point you were drawn to the view of the balcony. The beautiful golden hues of the sunset seems to light the sky ablaze and you found it hard to look away. That's when he first saw you. Loki had never really enjoyed the festivities thrown for various reasons and tonight was no different. Throughout the night he mingled a bit, and being the charmer that he was wooed a few unsuspecting young women, but as the day wore on and the sun began to set he found himself rather bored. A part of him contemplated pulling a little prank to liven things up a bit, but he knew better. He was already on a short leash after the last bit of mischief he unleashed.

It was as the sun set that the young prince walked toward the balcony hoping to find reprieve from his boredom. As he approached he couldn't help but notice a beautiful young woman standing at the rail starring into the horizon. He was in awe of you, and he found himself walking to you ready to sweep you off your feet. He greeted you, and surprised, you greeted him politely in return. It was no secret you that this was Loki, Prince of Asgard, and it certainly wasn't a mystery as to why he was here, a charming smile on his face and a twinkle of sorts in his eye. He had pulled this sort of act on a few of your friends in the past and you were not one to fall so easily for a beautiful smile and a handsome face. The conversation progresses between you and it soon becomes apparent to Loki that you are not impressed, a fact that irks him greatly.

Eventually you tell him as politely as you can that you are not interested and leave him there on the balcony. In the months that follow you cannot stop thinking about him, and you don't know why. Little do you know that he cannot stop thinking of you as well. You meet for various reasons under various circumstances, so rather suspicious you think, as the months progress. He takes little precaution in masking his intentions with you. It is quite obvious the first time he appears at the gate of your garden and every day after, what he's after. A challenge. You are not amused and find yourself repulsed by his courting advances, this new daily routine he has devised, or so you try to convince yourself. You try to tell yourself that you want nothing to do with him, that he's nothing to you. That he will only break your heart once you give in. And that he will most likely become bored with you when he no longer has to work for it. You tell yourself all these things and instead of giving in, you hold an awkward sort of friendship with him, something he tries desperately to change but you will have none of it. You won't risk losing your heart to the Prince of Mischief.

Then one day as you tend your garden waiting for your persistent friend to arrive, explosions ring out. Screams pierce the sky and the deafening sound of battle rings through your ears. You run to the street to discover what is going on, only to hear the horrific news from terrified passersby. The frost giants have attacked the palace. Fear rips through you as you think of him, of the danger he is in. Without thinking you rush toward the palace dodging civilians running the opposite way through the streets. You hold in your tears forcing yourself to believe that he is alright and that nothing will happen to him.

As you reach the palace the sounds of fighting grow louder and you duck around corners carefully avoiding detection as the guards and soldiers fight for their kingdom. It feels as if an eternity has passed as you search for Loki, fear gripping your heart more and more as each corner you turn reveals no one you know. You begin to panic and caution be damned you begin to run through corridors and halls no longer caring who is there to stop you. As you round another corner, what seems like the millionth one, you find yourself stopping in your tracks, coming face to face with a group of frost giants. You gasp as they notice you, fear taking hold, this time for yourself. You begin to back away slowly as they approach you, leering smirks on their faces, and you suddenly wish you had stayed home and away from the palace. Perhaps you had been wrong all these months. Perhaps the fact that you had put yourself in this situation for him only proved that you really do care. You begin to wonder of you'll ever be able to tell him as you find yourself backed into a corner. As the one at the front of the "pack" draws near he lifts the giant sword in his hand, ready to bring it down on you in an instant, ending your existence. Regret rips through you as he flashes before your eyes. The last few months, you finally admit, were indeed some of the best of your life. And now, you will never see him again, never hear the warm smooth voice that comforts you on the worst of days, and worst of all you will never be able to tell him how much you love him.

You close your eyes as time slows down around you. The sword begins to descend upon you and you know it is only a matter of time before you are no longer for this world. It is not until you hear the raw clang of steel on steel that you open your eyes, tears stinging them as you look up to see a large body standing between you and what would have most definitely been certain death. "Loki" you breathe in relief, taking in his form. It takes but a few simple spells and the swing of his sword to put the giants down. When you are certain it is safe you approach him. You open your mouth to speak only to close it quickly as he turns on you anger burning in his beautiful eyes.

"What are you doing here?" he exclaims angrily. You are startled by his tone; he's never spoken to you this way before. When you don't answer him he continues through gritted teeth. "Why. Are. You. Here?" He says clipped and irritated. You look at him nervously and it is then that you truly see him. His skin is covered in a layer of sweat while cuts and bruises adorn his once flawless face. He's breathing hard and you can tell he's exhausted. It is more than obvious that he has been fighting long and hard to defend his home. Perhaps even to defend you. Instinct takes over at the thought and you launch yourself forward wrapping your arms around him. He is stunned by this action but wraps his free arm around you none the less. Tears fall from your eyes as you hold him tightly. He hears your muffled sobs and pulls away so he can look at you. When he speaks again he is much gentler. "Why are you here?" he questions again, hope in his voice.

"For you." You answer through your tears. "I'm here for…" he doesn't give you the chance to finish as he pulls you too him once again and crashes his lips to yours. You're surprised but you never hesitate to return the gesture.

The rest is history. The battle was eventually won, and of course a celebration took place. The minute you enter the grand ball room, Loki is at your side offering you his arm, where you stay for the rest of the evening. The celebration lasted until late into the night and early into the morning, but you really weren't interested in the party. All that mattered was that you were there, with him and he wanted nothing more than to show you off to everyone. Eventually as the celebration began to turn toward the rowdy side, Loki pulls you away from the crowds and guides you through the halls. You don't know where he's taking you but you are looking forward to some alone time with him. Finally, he pulls you into a dark room. You look around but you cannot see very far in front of you. You vaguely see his outline as he stands next to you and are slightly aware that he has waved his hands strategically through the air.

Suddenly the room is bathed in a warm golden light as several candles and lanterns were lit around the room. You look around again, becoming aware that you are in a bed chamber, but not just any chamber, his chamber. You were a bit against his innuendos at first, but eventually you gave in, allowing him to have what he wanted and feeling no regret or shame in giving it to him. The rest of the night was blur, a long, gloriously satisfying blur.

Loki pulled away resting his forehead against yours. He looked into your eyes enjoying the glossy dazed look in them. He reveled in the fact that he could make you feel that way. You sighed softly, smiling lightly at him. Somewhere in the distance a delicious aroma wafted to your nose and you found yourself blushing as your stomach rumbled loudly. A deep rumble erupted from Loki's chest bubbling up into laugh. The sound is music to your ears. Stepping back, Loki moved so you could see behind him and notice a large tray of food resting on the unmade bed. You smile at him knowingly before walking over to the bed and climbing up on your side. Loki follows suit, sitting on the edge of the opposite side.

"I had a feeling you might be hungry after last night." he said through a smirk. You look up at him and fain annoyance at him and his millionth innuendo of the morning. He chuckled lightly, an evil like smile on his face. Looking down at the tray of food you notice a bowl of strawberries. You pick one large one out and then without warning shove it in Loki's mouth as he opens his mouth to say something perverted once again. He looks at you taken back and you can't help but to burst into laughter. He scowls at him as he bites off the end that's in his mouth and pulls the rest out. You look at him innocently as he glares at you playfully. "You're really testing my limits today. Do you know how hard it was not to jump you the minute I walked in especially seeing you in that." He gestured at what you were wearing. "You best be careful, or I may find excuse to keep you hear in this bed, writhing and moaning until your voice is parched and you can do nothing but cling helplessly to anything nearby, preferably me." He warns you and you can't help but accept his unintentional challenge.

"Is that so." You say a sultry smirk on your face as you reach over and take hold of his wrist. You then pull it toward you never taking your eyes off of him as you bring the strawberry in his hand to your lips taking a slow sensuous bite. You close your eyes as the sweet piece of fruit enters your mouth; moaning against his fingers as at the wonderful taste. In the next few minutes you finish off the strawberry in the same way as you took the first bite. When the strawberry was gone you looked up at him his eyes completely fixated on you, lust glazing his eyes. You smirk taking your seduction one step further. Your hand is still holding his wrist so you bring it back to you lips, taking his fingers into your mouth and savoring the hint of strawberry that still lingers there.

His eyes are wide as he watches you and eventually you pull away deciding you've tortured him enough. He looks you in the eye utterly speechless as you bite your bottom lip innocently. "Delicious." You whisper softly a come hither look crossing your face.

"Evil woman." Loki finally replies, his expression still that of shock. You burst into laughter at this only to be cut off when you feel your legs pulled forward, forcing you onto your back. You gasp as Loki settles on top of you a mock glare on his face. "You think it funny to play with fire, my dear?" he rumbled deeply as he lifts your arms above your head and holds them there. You pull your bottom lip into your mouth as a tingle shoots through you with the timbre of his voice. You smirk.

"Only when hurts so good." You moan tipping your head back and arching your back so your bodies connect. He grunts in approval at your actions before moving to the nape of your neck. He begins by planting light kisses there but quickly changes his pace with nips and bites, until finally he's ravishing your neck the way you love so much. You moan and writhe beneath him the way he loves so much. "Oh yes," you moan. "Mmm, oh please stop teasing." You continue. You feel his smirk against you skin and you know he's enjoying watching you squirm and beg. A small hint of your defiance returns and you feel the need to regain so sort of control no matter how small it may be. "Please," You beg "My king."

He stops then and there, and you must force yourself not to smirk and as he slowly look up at you. You realize fairly quickly that your attempt to remain innocent has failed as a smile breaks out on your face.

"You're going to be the death of me woman." He grunts before capturing your lips in a soul stealing kiss. When he finally pulls away your smiling from ear to ear. You reply;

"At least you'll die happy."

A/N: So while I was writing the flashback scene I realize that I could write a much longer and detailed story with the idea so that's what I'm going to do.

-RED