The Gala

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When I awoke the next morning, Loki was gone. In his place, I found only a note that read:

I am sorry, my darling. I had to leave early, as Odin had requested that I accompany him on a hunt this morning. I suspect he merely wants to spend some time with me. I apologize for not being there when you woke up, but you have my word that next time I will stay with you until morning. My heart looks forward to seeing you tonight. I was also wondering if I could possibly steal you for a dance? Until then,

Much love, Loki

I sighed. It was still dark outside, but I knew morning was near. I got up, plugged Slanthis' power pack back into his body, and went back to my rooms, drawing a bath and sliding into the hot, sudsy water as if it were the elixir of life. This basin held the sources of some of my greatest epiphanies, and I badly needed one right about now. I was pondering last night. It seemed my feelings for Loki had grown even stronger, if that were possible. I could still feel the lingering caress of his lips on my flesh and the sharp, sweet pain of his hand jerking my hair to expose my neck.

How was it possible things had happened so quickly? In only two months, we had graduated from a few soft, bashful kisses to regular make-out sessions. I hated myself for thinking this, but now I understood the Chitauri perfectly. Deep within my chest was an almost insatiable need for Loki. I craved to know him better than I already did. He was like alcohol, and I was the alcoholic. He said he would bring me knowledge and teach me everything he knew, but there was still one thing I didn't have any clue about.

If last night was any hint, Loki wanted me as much as I wanted him. You idiot! My conscience screamed at me. You have no idea what he will do to you! What if he hurts you, or worse, what if you start hallucinating again? Will he keep going?

I sighed. As much as I hated to admit it, the thought of doing what I wanted to do with Loki was almost too big a step to make. You have to walk before you can run. But it seemed like I had already gone from a complete paralytic to an Olympic sprinter. I smiled. Who would have ever thought I had a kinky side?

However, I was trembling with fear as well. After the Chitauri, I didn't want it to be painful. I didn't want to be afraid, but I was quaking with fear. So much so that the water of my bath began to ripple. There came a rapping at my door.

"Are you well, my pet?" Slanthis asked through the closed door. "I would not want harm to come to you on MY big day," he laughed. "The ones fitting you for your dress and preparing you for your appearance tonight are here. When you have finished bathing, you will need to see to it that you seek them out."

"Yes, master," I replied, stepping from the water and drying myself off. My hair was a tangled mess, but no doubt Slanthis had hired people to fix that. My nails as well. They were short and stubby, as I had a problem with biting them, and I had never worn paint on them, even with Jargon.

I sighed and pulled on a rough, linen tunic I usually wore to bed. Next, I stepped into my bedroom to find four people sitting on my bed and chattering happily. "Hello?" I asked. "Are you the ones who will be fitting me?"

They all turned to stare at me, as if I was the luckiest person in the world. It was then that I took in their clothing. All of them wore old, holey burlap sacks. Their faces glared at me in envy, and I gulped. "I am very sorry," I whispered. "Truly I am."

The first, a woman with an eye patch gave me a curt nod. She had long, coarse, red hair that was braided into a french-style waterfall, and her one remaining eye was a brilliant green. "I'm Misneach," she said. "I'm the designer."

The second, a huge, black man with only one leg, glared at me with burning, intensely brown eyes as he leaned on a crutch that was his support. "I am Hasira," he hissed. "I'm good with hair."

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