Eirlys managed to get Loki to his chambers without letting him put too much weight on his injured side. He was heavier than she remembered, though perhaps that was simply because the boy she remembered carrying childish books and following Thor through the palace had been replaced by a grown man who seemed determined to make every step look more painful than the last.
Once inside, she guided him towards the bed and helped him sit. "Careful."
Loki obeyed with an almost suspicious amount of compliance. He watched her move around the room, gathering water and a clean cloth. There was something almost amusing about the way she fussed over him, something that reminded him of another time. Except now she was older, composed, and beautiful enough to make concentrating on anything else unnecessarily difficult.
Loki decided to use that. He leaned back against the pillows, allowing his expression to soften into something almost pitiful. If Eirlys wanted to see Thor's helpless little brother, then he would happily give her exactly that.
She returned and carefully cleaned the blood from his temple. "You should not have been fighting in this condition."
Loki lowered his eyes. "I did not exactly have much choice."
The answer was innocent enough. Almost. Eirlys studied him for a moment but said nothing. She continued tending to his injuries, her movements gentle and patient.
Loki watched her. He had always been good at reading people. He could tell when someone was lying, when they were afraid, when they were hiding something behind courtesy. Eirlys, however, was proving more difficult than he expected. She had perfected the art of keeping her thoughts behind a pleasant expression.
So Loki decided there was no reason to wait. "There is something you should know."
Her hand paused. "What?"
He looked at her, allowing just enough hesitation into his expression. "The marriage. We are getting together."
Eirlys froze. For one brief moment, her mind went completely blank. The marriage, of course. She had been blushing earlier because she had assumed it was Thor. Thor, her childhood companion, her closest friend, the future King of Asgard. The thought had not seemed entirely absurd. Embarrassing, perhaps, but not absurd.
She had even allowed herself to wonder what it would be like. Now Loki was sitting in front of her, bruised and pretending to look like a wounded little prince, calmly informing her that the marriage was about him.
Loki. Her best friend's younger brother. Her face remained perfectly composed. Only the slightest warmth touched her cheeks.
For one horrifying second, a very honest "ew" nearly escaped her. She swallowed it. Loki noticed the pause. He almost smiled.
Almost. But Eirlys had already lowered her gaze, folding the cloth neatly between her fingers as though he had just told her something mildly unexpected rather than something that had rearranged her entire understanding of the evening.
"So," she said politely, "you are the one I am supposed to marry."
"Apparently."
She looked at him again. There was no disgust in her expression. No outrage. No excitement either. Just that maddeningly calm politeness. Inside, however, questions were racing through her mind.
Why had her father said nothing? Why had Odin and Frigga spoken as though she already knew? Why had Thor looked so shaken? And most importantly, why would anyone arrange this without telling her?
She thought of Thor's face when they had spoken about marriage earlier. She had been too embarrassed to look at him properly, but she remembered the uncertainty in his eyes. She needed to know what he felt. Until then, she would not decide what she felt. Loki had expected shock. He had expected questions, perhaps even tears or anger. Instead, Eirlys simply picked up the cloth again and continued tending to his wounds.
"Try not to move too much," she said calmly. "You have already been injured enough for one day."
Loki stared at her. For once, he found himself wondering whether he had underestimated her. He had spent his entire life learning how to hide what he felt. Eirlys, it seemed, had learned the same lesson far more gracefully.
Eirlys finally set the cloth aside and stood. "I should go."
She needed answers. More than anything, she needed to find Thor and understand what had happened in that room before she had walked away. Her father had left without saying a word. Odin and Frigga had apparently made plans concerning her future without asking her. And now Loki was sitting in front of her, calmly accepting a marriage she had never agreed to.
Eirlys had barely taken a step when fingers closed around her wrist. She stopped, looked down at Loki's hand, then slowly at his face. He seemed almost unaware of what he had done. His expression carried that same quiet vulnerability he had worn since she had brought him into his chambers. There was something almost possessive about the gesture, as though he had already decided that he had some right to stop her.
A husband's right. The thought immediately irritated her. They were not married. They were not even engaged. She had not said yes.
Did her choice mean so little to everyone that the decision could simply be made around her? Eirlys gently looked at his hand until Loki seemed to realize what he was doing. His fingers loosened slightly, though he did not release her completely.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
She almost told him. Then she stopped herself. Why should she explain herself to him? She did not owe Loki an answer any more than she owed anyone else one. Whatever this arrangement was, she would decide what happened next. But then she looked properly at him.
His face was still bruised. His eyes were tired, and beneath all the intelligence and carefully controlled expressions, there was something strangely familiar in the way he looked at her. It pulled an old memory from somewhere she had not visited in years.
Loki as a child. Quietly wandering through the palace while she, Thor, Sif, and the others were busy with their games. He had rarely asked to join them. He would simply linger nearby, watching with those sharp little eyes, pretending he had no interest in what they were doing.
She remembered how many times she had noticed him and called him over herself. He had always seemed to want attention. He simply never knew how to ask for it. Her irritation softened despite herself. Perhaps that was what she was seeing now. Not a prince demanding his rights, but the same lonely boy she had once known, only grown into a man who had become much better at hiding his need.
Eirlys sighed quietly. "I will come back later."
Loki's grip finally disappeared from her wrist. She gave him one last look before turning towards the door. She still had questions. She still had no intention of accepting a marriage simply because someone else had decided it for her. But she could not bring herself to leave him alone immediately after seeing him in such a state. Not yet. Not when some part of her still remembered him as Thor's younger brother, wandering behind everyone else and pretending he did not care that nobody was waiting for him.
Eirlys barely remembered leaving Loki's chambers. The moment the doors closed behind her, she gathered her robes and hurried through the corridor, her thoughts moving faster than her feet.
Thor. She needed Thor. She needed to know why everyone had spoken of her marriage as though her opinion had never been required. More importantly, she needed to know what Thor had felt when he thought the marriage was meant to be between them. Her cheeks warmed at the memory.
Had he been disappointed when he learned it was Loki? Had he been relieved? Had that strange look in his eyes meant anything at all?
She hated that she did not know. Thor had always been easy for her to read. He was loud, honest, reckless, and terrible at hiding what he felt. But today he had looked at her differently, and she had been too embarrassed to meet his eyes long enough to understand it.
Now she needed the truth. Not an explanation from Odin's, or her father's silence, not even Loki's version of anything. Thor's. She wanted to stand in front of her oldest friend and ask him plainly what she meant to him. Whether he had ever imagined a life with her. Whether the thought of marrying her had made him happy. And, perhaps most frighteningly, whether she had imagined that moment between them entirely on her own. She quickened her pace. She would not leave until Thor answered her.