The God and the Siren (Loki Romance)

Chapter Thirty-Two

The Asgardians assured me I had nothing to feel guilty about, once everything was on the table. Loki did a lot of the talking, and I mostly apologized for all those days of clipped sentences and abrupt coldness. It was an emotional conversation to say the least, but it wasn't nearly as drawn out as dramatic as I was afraid it'd be. For all that they've been alive for hundreds of years, it really shows in the extent their wisdom.

Roughly two weeks later, a certain special occasion rolls around—Ostara, the celebration of the spring equinox. At least, that's what they call it. Loki explained that since it'll be the first one they'll have on earth, it'll be more of an occasion to come together than anything else—something that everyone desperately needs right now.

Myself included—so there's no hesitation on my part when asked whether I'd be happy to come to the event.

On the day of, having dressed in some nice jeans, tall boots and red shirt, I walk out into the living room and throw a beige trench coat over my shoulders.

"Cerys," I hear Sif's voice from the hallway, and turn to see her eyeing me up and down. "That's not what you're wearing, is it?"

I look down at my apparel, and then note that Sif is wearing some of her traditional Asgardian clothes—a red dress, to be precise. Much more feminine than she usually opts for.

"Uhh," I drone. "Well... I guess so?"

She shakes her head, scanning my length solemnly. "No, that won't do... Come with me," she beckons to me, and disappears down the hallway. I saunter after her, and she reappears in her doorway at the end of the hall before I manage to reach her room, with a purple dress in hand.

"This ought to fit your colors," she says. "And your size, I think."

I look over the dress as I take it from her hands, noting the short sleeves, emphasized bosom and shawls traipsing over the sides and back.

I raise a brow. "Well, I'll... I'll wear this if you want me to."

"Trust me," she nods. "If you're to appear there with a prince of Asgard, you'll want to look the part."

Color tinges my cheeks. "I'm not sure what you mean by that."

Sif levels a flat stare at me. "Loki appears at an event with a woman... Our people will make note of it."

I press my lips together. "So..." I mumble in a low voice. "Does that mean I need to do something, or... act a certain way?"

"Not in any way other than your usual self, but you should still dress the part," she gestures to the dress.

I look down at it. "Well, alright..." I say, and turn to go back to my room.

"Wait," I stop, noticing the empty rooms. "Where are the guys?"

"They said they'd meet us there a while later, had some matters to take care of before we got there. Didn't Loki mention that?"

I shake my head. "Nope..."

"Oh," she raises her brows and nods. "Well, now you know. I'll be waiting for you out here."

"Got it," I bob my head, and stroll back to my room with the dress in hand.

It takes much longer to put it on than any other I've ever had to squirm into. With the length of the shawl-things trailing all over me, it's easy to get them confused with the skirt, and the underdress—but at least they provide some warmth.

I pull my hair out from under the fabric and run my fingers through the blonde curls a bit before straightening up, and heading back out.

"Ready?" Sif straightens up from the back of one of the couches.