Loki of Norway

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Low key inspired by Taylor Swift's song "Enchanted"

outfit for this imagine:

Attending balls and events hosted by your family is not the best in your humble opinion

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Attending balls and events hosted by your family is not the best in your humble opinion. Every one you converse with is often shallow, overly and overtly talkative, or boring.

You often drown their words and petty flattery with multiple glasses of champagne or any kind of alcohol in your vicinity if you were truly that desperate.

Thank the gods you weren't timid and brainless like them. You were educated by multiple tutors growing up. Your father trained you how to defend yourself, thus making you a woman in the army, and a high ranking one in fact. In short, you are a woman that people should be wary off.

Tonight was another night of dancing with wannabe suitors and perverted old men in your family ballroom. Your eyes held no sparkle when you were introduced infront of everyone, a quick flash of an insincere smile was enough to throw them off.

Of course, your mother forced you into the dance floor with your father. With a groan and a light scolding, you accepted your father's hand as your first partner of the night.

"Must I be wary of your drinking tonight?" Your father asked, mildly concerned.

"Let us see, father. If there are more brainless men in this very room I might just drown myself in our wine cellar." You hissed quietly, not angry at your father but at the men who think they have a chance to actually woo you into marriage.

"Don't say things like that, dear. Not publicly at least." Your father replied as he spun you.

"So you agree then?" You replied back, but as you spun, your eyes caught a glimpse of mischievous green ones, and a black mess of hair afterwards.

"Why wouldn't I? You are a woman of wit and intelligence just as I made you to be."

You smiled before exchanging partners, now you were stuck with a stuck up merchant. "Beautiful as always, my lady." He smirked. You nearly gagged and rolled your eyes but kept your polite demeanor.

"Good evening to you to," You faked a smile. "I don't believe we've met?" You asked, your eyes subconsciously following the man with jet black hair.

"I think we have. Your father is a friend of my uncle."

"Really? I can't seem to remember." You dismissed his reply, making it obvious you weren't interested.

"Am I that forgettable, my lady?" He asked jokingly.

"Hmm. Perhaps." You smirked at him before exchanging another partner mid-turn and instead of a smooth transition from arm to arm you nearly whacked your head on your new partner's chest.

"Apologies." You said while balancing your self.

"No harm done, my lady." A velvety voice replied, you looked up at the owner of that honey like voice only to find that it's the same man you had eye contact with while you were dancing with your father. The one with the unmistakable mischievous glint in his eyes. You knew in your gut he was no brainless man.

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