8. Concert Coquetry

                                    

                                          
Every once in a great, long while—when all the stars aligned in your favor and fate smiled kindly on you—an official event that required your attendance was something that you would actually enjoy.
This was one of those times.
A concert. The best musicians in Asgard gathered for a performance in celebration of Odin. Hours of music and quiet reflection, no one looking at you, no one asking anything of you. You would be allowed to simply observe and enjoy. You practically danced down the steps to the hall.
Crowds mingled in the anteroom, waiting for the musicians to prepare so they could go into the hall and take their seats. You would be seated at the front, with the royal family (as you were for every event), right between Thor and Loki. Nervous butterflies fluttered in your stomach. This would be the first event since... well, since everything. Since you'd first fantasized about Loki, since you'd called him to your room, since the many times after that you'd betrayed your engagement to Thor. You didn't worry that Loki would do anything improper—he had his own reputation to maintain, after all—but guilt was not an emotion you carried easily.
You wove through the throngs of people, sliding between the empty spaces without causing so much as a ripple in conversation. A tingle of awareness rose over the back of your neck and you turned to find Loki watching you through the crowd. Your stomach flipped. Even from this distance, you felt his gaze as if it burned through the muted silver material of your dress. Your breath caught. How was it that the people between you couldn't feel the intensity of that look? Certainly, everyone must see it? Your feet grew roots into the marble floor and there was no escape as he crossed the room to reach you. He didn't say anything, but sipped from the goblet of wine he held, eyes raking over you in a slow, thorough examination. He smiled. "You look lovely. Far too much clothing, but still."
You bit back the curse that rose on your tongue. Of course Loki would make this difficult for you. It was in his nature to brat, after all. You gritted your teeth and met his gaze with a challenge of your own. You wouldn't dare cause a scene here.
He raised an eyebrow, barely a flicker of change, but you saw the meaning clear as day. Wouldn't I?
The crowd shifted and someone bumped into Loki from behind. He pitched forward, crossing the less than arms distance between you, and the entirety of the goblet of wine poured down your dress. The crowd around you withdrew and you suddenly felt all eyes on you. You stood there, wine stained all down your front, in a moment of silence.
"Oh dear," Loki said. You stood awkwardly, wine dripping down your arms and off your fingertips. "I suppose you'll have to change." You glared at him and suppressed the urge to kick him in the shins. He was smiling—actually smiling—like the moment was mildly funny rather than grossly humiliating.
A chime sounded and all eyes turned to the auditorium entrance. It was time for people to take their seats. Loki leaned forward to whisper in your ear. "Hurry, pet. You wouldn't want to be late." With one final scathing glance at him, you hastened from the hall and up the stairs.
#
You stripped out of the dress before the door to your room even closed all the way. You threw it into a corner where it could do no more harm. By the time someone would think to wash it, the wine would have stained the cloth so thoroughly, they may as well dye it burgundy instead. It was a lost cause and, sadly, one of your favorite gowns. Damn Loki. Damn, damn, damn. Even if it was an accident, it was horribly careless. Why hadn't he just left you alone? You took a breath and set your fury aside. It was pointless. You'd take him to task for it later. There was no energy to waste on him now.
You wiped yourself with a damp cloth, just enough to clean the stick and smell of wine from your skin. There was no time to bathe again. As it was, you had just enough to make it back before the performance started. Anything further, and your entrance would make a scene.