Can You See Me? (A Loki FanFiction)

Chapter Three

An hour later, the sun had completely set over the horizon and the chamber was now softly illuminated by small lamps around the vast room and the natural light of the fireplace. They created a gentle, ethereal glow in the room and I couldn't help but feel relaxed here, despite the life changing events of the day. I had spent the last hour gazing out of the panoramic window from my seat at the empty dining table, staring out into the capital. The city was alive with little twinkling lights and, for a girl who had spent her entire life on top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere, it was rather breathtaking.

Taking my eyes away from the window, I glanced around the room. Thor, thankfully now clothed, was sitting at his desk again, the oak table top strewn with parchment, and Mjolnir resting at his feet. Vall was now sleeping on the fur rug in front of the fire, somehow managing to curl his vast body into a small, compact ball. My eyes snagged on the bookcase by the fireplace, surprised that I had not noticed it before. I bit my lip, wondering if it would be impertinent of me to ask...

Standing, I cleared my throat, "My Lord?" Thor looked up at me expectantly. Suddenly nervous, I stared down at the floor, "I was wondering...would you mind if I read one of your books?"

Thor raised his eyebrows in surprise and glanced over at the bookcase.

"You read?" he asked, obviously assuming that because I was a slave, I must be illiterate.

I smiled slightly and nodded, "Yes, my Lord. My father taught me."

Thor leaned back in his chair and crossed his thick arms over his chest, "Yes, that reminds me. Where is your family? Surely they would not let you be sold so easily?"

Clearing my throat nervously, I shuffled my feet, "I - my father and brothers were killed by marauders three days ago," I explained, trying to keep all emotion out of my voice, "I was found by slave traders the next day."

When there was silence, I peeked up at him from under the rim of my cap. He was staring down at his desk, a frown etched onto his features. He looked up, "I am sorry," he gestured to the bookcase, "Please, help yourself."

Nodding in thanks, I made my way over to the bookcase and searched the titles, scanning my eyes of the worn spines. There were a few I recognised, some that my father had read to me, but others spurred no familiarity. Pulling out a soft, leather-bound copy of a novel my brother had once owned, I flicked through the pages of soft parchment and sat back down at the table.

"And what of your mother?" Thor asked, and I looked up.

"She died when I was born," I answered, feeling the loss of the mother I never knew. I did not mind so much, I was only a baby of course. I had never even met the woman.

Thor looked as if he was going to speak again, but at that moment there was a knock at the door. When Thor bid them enter, the door swung open and a guard stood at the entrance.

"I was sent to inform you that dinner is about to be served, my Lord," the guard informed him and then bowed and left when Thor thanked him.

Walking behind Thor, we made our way down the grand corridors to the dining hall. It was odd walking with a prince, every now and then a passer-by would stop and bow politely and Thor would smile and nod in gratitude. He was not what I expected of a prince; he was not arrogant or pompous or dismissive, as I thought he would be. I was curious to find out what the rest of his family was like.

Finally, we arrived at a large room with long tables and benches running down its length. Light streamed from the chandeliers on the ceiling and the marble floor glittered beautifully in the pale glow. Undoubtedly, it would be a spectacular sight, but not wanting to be chastised, I kept my eyes downcast. However, instead of sitting at the long tables, Thor lead me to a smaller, yet still grand, dining room which was what I assumed was kept for normal meals - while the larger dining hall was reserved for special occasions.