I joined Loki in the throne room afterwards. A group of musicians stood by the fire place, the fiddle player stood in front, jumping around in time to his music, his long dark hair flopping in front of his face. The hall was filled with riotous laughter and the stomping of feet as the fire jotun spun one another around the room.  Loki leaned against the hearth, warming his back on the fire, his arms crossed over his chest. He watched the dancers with amusement.

When I entered the room he bolted across the floor and grabbed my hand, “come on, dance with me!”

                “I can’t,” I protested, trying to drag my hand away, “I’m a terrible dancer. I’ll probably fall on my face.”

He grinned, holding me fast, “I’ll hold you up, I promise.”

“Loki…” my feet slid on the floor as he pulled me into the center of the dance floor, “I don’t know how!”

“Neither do we!” Loki said, “look at us, no one actually knows what they’re doing.”

He gestured at the crowd. Upon closer inspection it appeared he was right. The jotun were basically just stomping their feet to the rollicking tune, or hooking their arms and spinning in dizzy, laughing circles.

“There’s no actual steps?” I asked suspiciously.

“None whatsoever,” Loki held up his hand, his face solemn, “I swear it. Come on,” he held out his arm formerly, and after a moment of hesitation, I took it. I just knew I was going to make a total fool of myself in front of him.

Loki took my hand and swung me around, spinning me in a circle in time to the music so that I faced away from him, pulling me back against his chest. For a brief second his lips were right next to my ear, his breath tickled my skin, “not so bad, is it?”

He was so close, “it’s okay,” I stammered.

He laughed deep in his throat, and I could feel it rumble in his chest. Then the music picked up and he spun me back out and away from him. We made eye contact and I could tell by the glint in his eyes that he was enjoying this. I felt a little breathless myself.

More spinning and stamping, and soon I found myself with a ridiculous grin on my face. The music was so bubbly and happy, it really made you want to move. I could almost feel the beat, if I listened closely, move in time with it. When I looked up Loki was shaking his head.

“You’re a shameless liar.”

“What?”

“You said you couldn’t dance.”

“I can’t,” I protested.

He smirked at me, “You look fine, darlin’.”

My face flushed red, and I actually missed a step, but before I could think too hard about what he’d just said Loki grabbed my hand and spun me around again, facing forward this time, pulling me close. Our faces were inches apart. His lips were inches from mine. Would he kiss me in front of all these people?  I glanced sideways, my face hot. No one was even looking at us. The jotun whirled past us in a blur, laughing with one another. No one was watching.

I looked back at Loki, and his brown eyes fixed on mine. My body stiffened in shock as he closed the inches between us, his mouth pressing hotly against mine. Then he spun me away again. Was the room spinning because of all the twirling, or because of the kiss? I didn’t know and I didn’t care.

Back again, staring up at him. He smiled at me, his expression cocky, “do you like dancing now?”

I did my best to look bored, like his kiss hadn’t affected me in the least, “it’s okay.”

“Do I have to turn up the heat?” He said cheekily.

Loki’s fingers on my bare skin suddenly grew hotter, making me gasp, “I forget you could do that.”

“You can do it too,” Loki shrugged. He looked pleased at the effect his little trick had had on me, “get colder I mean.”

“I don’t know how,” I said slowly, “at least…I don’t think I know how.” 

Was it that wall, that mental block I pushed away to freeze normal objects? Did I just do that when I was touching Loki?  Experimentally, I placed one hand on his arm and thought about it, trying to push that black away. It took a few seconds, but I felt it give, like water pushing through a damn. My fingertips tingled, and Loki’s expression turned from quizzical to shocked.

“You did it! You made me colder!” He pulled out of my grip and rubbed his forearm, hunching his shoulders, “I think you’re stronger then you think, that was cold.”

“I’m sorry!” I said hastily, “I didn’t mean to make you cold…”

He laughed at my dismayed expression and grabbed my hands again, pulling me against his chest. I could feel the heat of his body soaking into mine, “you can’t freeze me, I’ll just keep getting hotter.”

I bit my lip, thinking that the statement was true in more ways than one.  

Another hour of dancing and then the fiddle player announced that he was tired, and the music would resume tomorrow night. The jotun on the dance floor groaned in protest, but they started to migrate slowly toward the door. Loki held back, still holding my hand tightly,

“More dancing tomorrow,” he said firmly, “after dinner. And no excuses. You’ve revealed your talent for dancing, so I won’t take no for an answer.”

I laughed, “fine. But we visit the garden again, after horseback riding.”

“Deal,” he grinned, “come on. I’ll walk you upstairs and say goodnight.”

It still threw me off to wake up in the morning with a huge bed to myself. Charlotte had had her own room for days now, but apparently I still wasn’t used to it. I sat up in bed that morning, woken abruptly for some reason, trying to figure out what had made me sit straight up out of sleep. The room was still dim, the coals in the stone hearth several feet from the bed were glowing orange, and the heavy velvet curtains were still drawn across the window.

A soft knock made me jump. A muffled voice came through the door,

“Miss, that frost boy sent me wake you up. He’s in the training room waiting for you.”

I groaned and swung my feet onto the cold stone tiles of the floor, “alright, thank you.”

Obviously Erik had sent one of the servants to get me. I stretched my arms above my head and yawned, a little cross that he was pulling me out of bed so early. Maybe he wanted to get a lesson in before horseback riding lessons, but he could have told me.

I debated showering, but decided I had better hurry if he was already waiting for me. I strode over to the dark wooden chest of drawers in the corner and yanked the top one open. The fire jotun weren’t nearly so extravagant as the frost. Instead of tailoring me clothes they had borrowed from a girl my size. All of the clothes were slightly worn, though they were all in good condition.  It made me wonder how the girl felt about her wardrobe being invaded.  I pulled on a pair of brown pants that flowed loosely around my legs. They were just a bit too long for me. It was strange to think that a girl my size was so much taller.  A form fitting grey tank top was next, and I had to find a thick brown belt to keep the pants up. I scooped my katana off the dresser and attached the loop of the sheath to the belt, buckling it tightly around my hips. Obviously I would be needing that for training. There, that would have to do. I pulled my hair up into a pony tail and barged out into the hall, nearly running into the woman who was waiting just outside my door.

“Oh!” I stammered, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you were waiting for me.”

The servant woman smiled down at me. She had bright red cheeks and kind, hazel colored eyes. “Don’t worry, dear. Now, let’s get you to the training room.”

“Right,” that made sense. I had no idea where it was.

I followed the cheery servant down the twisting corridor, staring at her broad shoulders and back as she led the way. She didn’t talk, and the only sound was the slapping of our footsteps on the stones. At last she stopped in front of a thick looking wooden door, “Go on in,” she smiled at me, “good luck, honey.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, pushing the door open. I entered cautiously and the room opened up into a massive, high ceilinged chamber. I tilted my head back, observing the rough, circular chandeliers that lit the space, the  same lighting that had been in the banquet hall. The room was built in the same fashion, unadorned stone walls and  wooden beams. There were black metal hooks driven into the walls, where weapons hung. The torch light reflected off of hundreds of broadswords. The next wall was covered in wooden handled maces, the chains dangling off the ends of the hooks, laden with iron balls covered in long, dangerous spikes.

                “Come on in,” Erik’s voice echoed slightly, and I jumped, turning to see him emerging from the corner of the room. It struck me as odd that it was empty,

“We’re the only ones here?”

“That’s why I got you up early,” he said apologetically, “I didn’t want any distractions,” he sauntered forward, one hand resting on his belt. I noticed he had his broadsword in its sheath attached to his belt, and the soft leather tunic he usually worn to train in.

“Are we doing swordplay first?”

“Sort of,” Erik said gravely, “first I want to talk about the war a little bit.”

Just hearing the word made my stomach lurch. I tried not to show him how it affected me, just nodding at him to continue.

He said, “I want to tell you what to expect. I’ve trained all my life for this, and I’ve seen lots of minor skirmishes, but that doesn’t prepare you for war. Nothing will.”

Something told me this wasn’t meant to be a comforting talk.

“I want to tell you some of the things you’ll end up seeing, some of the things you’re up against. I need to tell you what the Queen will be like to face.”

                Had someone sucked the oxygen out of the huge stone room all at once? I wished we were standing up against the wall. I could use something to hang on to, “What do you mean?” Everything in me dreaded the answer. I was supposed to kill the Queen. They were putting this impossible task on my shoulders, and now he was making it official, trying to prepare me for it. Training me to kill a Queen.