1 | 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 ▹ LOKI LAUFEYSON

xxiv. the ruse

This one was actually on time...but not early like I had said. I'm sorry about that! I sat down to finish it and fell asleep.

I had initially intended for this chapter and The Intoxicated to be one chapter, but that would be 3000 words and that would be too much!

L O K I

As the prince strode down the halls, he anxiously fiddled with the small bottle in his hand.

What will she think? What will she say?

The night before, an intoxicated Amora had kissed him. And he did not pull away. Well, he did...eventually. But the moment was not a minor one and remained in his mind and undoubtably hers.

Will she regret it? Will she be angry?

His heart pounded even harder when her door came into view. This could ruin everything; their bond broken by one drunken night. If not broken, then at least strained. This was a nightmare.

Or a dream come true, a voice at the back of his mind whispered.

Loki's heart lifted for a moment before he immediately crushed that thought. No. I must not get my hopes up.

He reached her chambers but could only stare at the door that separated them, his eyes briefly straying to glance at the vial in his tight grip. The horrible feeling in his chest transferred to his stomach; his nerves overtaking his whole body. It was absolute torture.

I have to end this, he thought and gripped the doorknob. But then he paused. What would be on the other side? Would her eyes hold a look of regret? Anger? Joy?

With a frustrated huff, he shoved the door open...and immediately thought twice about it, but it was too late. Amora's curtains were drawn and kept the entire room in complete darkness, but the light from the doorway instantly burst through. The mass of blankets on the bed shifted slightly, moving to briefly reveal a slitted eye before snapping closed.

Slowly creeping across the room, Loki called softly, "Amora?"

A low groan was the only response given.

He reached up, gripped the thick curtains, and silently prayed for only a minor rebuke from the hungover woman. In one quick motion, he jerked the fabric away, sending blinding light throughout the room.

A sharp yell sounded as the blankets seemed to fold in on themselves. "Why?" Amora grumbled, contorting in order to escape the jarring rays.

"Oh, I suppose you do not want this remedy that mother gave, then," Loki quipped, he would let Amora be the one to bring up last night's events.

"Wait," the mass called before parting just enough to reveal Amora's scrunched face, "Did you say 'remedy'?" she asked weakly.

He perched on the edge of her bed and she clambered to break out of her fabric cocoon. Handing her the vial, he asked, "How are you feeling?" His face was not completely void of a smirk.

"Awful." She snatched the bottle from his slender fingers and drank it whole without hesitation.

Leaning her head back, Amora sighed as the liquid travelled through her system. Loki took in her disheveled appearance with no small amount of amusement. Only a small part of her hair struggled to remain in the braid from last night while the rest seemed to be attempting to escape in a tangled mess. Her makeup was smeared from sleep and, underneath it, her weary eyes could only remain half open.

A soft murmur drew Loki out of his thoughts only to realize that she was squinting at him expectantly. He froze.

She undoubtably wishes to discuss last night.

He cleared his throat and said, "I beg your pardon."

"I did not do anything stupid, did I?" she asked in a low, gravelly voice.

"Do you not remember?"

A simple shake of the head sent two completely different emotions racing through Loki's body. Relief and disappointment. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, but it was not entirely one emotion or the other.

Amora leaned back heavily into her pillows with a groan. "Was it that bad?"

"Well..." Loki paused. That was all the woman needed to understand the uncomfortable implication.

"What did I do, Loki?"

Should he tell her? No one knew of what had transpired so the secret would be easy to keep. But she deserved to know of her own actions. What effect would that knowledge have? Would it destroy their friendship? Or would it transform it?

With a deep breath, Loki began slowly, "You displayed...um..." his lip twitched upward, "your hidden dancing ability."

"Oh, no." Amora covered her face with her hands, slowing shaking her head.

Letting out a forced laugh, Loki patted her arm. "Do not worry. The others were inebriated enough to make your actions seem normal."

She glowered at him. "My actions were comparable to Thor's?"

"Possibly," he answered hesitantly.

Amora gave him a long look; he could practically see the gears turning in her mind.

Clearing his throat, he quickly stood. "Well, I will allow you to get some rest." She barely got a farewell out before he made a prompt exit.

* * *

A M O R A

Amora watched Loki leave with wide eyes. But they lowered down to look at her hands as soon as he was out of sight.

The night before had indeed been one of celebration but certainly not lacking inhibitions. She had, in fact, maintained her decision to only have one drink. However, having long considered the possibility of a different relationship with  the prince, Amora had decided to test her thoughts rather than act on them. She had hoped that, by feigning an intoxicated stupor, her drunken candor would elicit an honest response to her actions.

And it did.

But not the one she had hoped for.

He wishes to forget, to act as though it never happened, she thought disappointedly. This was not direct rejection, but it was no less painful.

Amora sat up straighter. Well I can do that, too. If he wishes for a friend, then I can remain at his side as his closest friend.

She would much rather live as his friend than live without him.

* * *

Let me know what you think of this chapter! Don't be too mad at me ':)

We are slowly approaching the end of Part II, and I'm really excited to kick into Part III!!! I hope you are, too!