"Do you mind?"
The words startled you so much that the knife in your hand slipped, catching your little finger. You spun around ready to snap at whoever had thought it a good idea to interrupt you while you were in the zone when you came face to face with the younger prince of Asgard. He was stretched comfortably out across the window ledge as if he'd been there for a long time without you - or anyone else - noticing.
Your mind went completely blank. What was he doing down here in the kitchens when he had the entire palace to skulk around in? The royals never came this deep into the servants levels. In fact, in all your years working in the palace, you couldn't recall a single time any titled Asgardian had ventured this low, let alone a crowned prince. Even the guards didn't often grace you with their presence down in the kitchens.
Realising with a start that you'd been staring with your mouth gaping, you bowed your head and asked, "Do I mind what, your highness?"
"Your incessant humming. I came down here for some peace and quiet, not to listen to you murder the songs of our fathers."
"Perhaps if you wanted peace you should have gone to the gardens," you grumbled, turning away from him and returning to the job at hand. You had an entire banquet's worth of potatoes to peel and you didn't want to face the wrath of the head chef. She was built like a bilgesnipe and had the temper of one too. Anyone stupid enough to anger her paid dearly for their mistake.
As you worked you could feel the prince's eyes on your back and it quickly became quite annoying. Twisting on your heels, resting your back against the worktop, you pointed the small knife in his direction and parroted his early, "Do you mind?"
A smirk crossed his face, utterly mischievous, before his neutral expression returned. However, looking closely, you could still see the glint in his eyes and found yourself thanking your lucky stars that you hadn't managed to offend the prince. "Not at all. I have quite the wonderful view from this angle."
Narrowing your eyes, you raised your knife a little higher and quietly held his stare, hoping that your expression said everything. It was not unknown for the lords and ladies of Asgard's court to come down to the servants quarters in search for liaisons. There were many young men and women that worked in the kitchens that had been charmed into such meetings. However, there was no way that you would allow yourself to be involved in anything so sordid.
Whilst you hardly believed those were his intentions, you wanted to make it perfectly clear where things stood between you. And judging by the slight way the prince's lips curved at the edges, your glare had said everything you'd wanted it to and more.
You returned your attention to your work and soon got back into the rhythm of it. It wasn't long before you started humming again, either. You were halfway through your favourite tune when the prince asked, "What's your name?"
"Y/N, your majesty," you answered softly, not turning to look at him.
"You may call me Loki."
This time you did twist to look at him, although as the light from the window framed his striking profile you almost wished you hadn't. It would be far too easy to get lost in such beauty. Swallowing deeply to steady your voice, you bowed your head and said, "I could never, my prince. It would be a breach of etiquette. I shouldn't even be talking to you now."
"The last thing on my mind when I made the decision to brave the depths of the palace was protocol. If it is just you and I alone, I would prefer you called me by my name and not my title. Understand?"
You gave a brief nod, wondering what was on his mind and why he was acting so kindly towards you. After all, you were nothing but a cook and a low stationed one at that. There was no reason for him to act this way, especially if he knew relations were off the table. You soon let it go, though. You knew it was a futile exercise trying to guess Loki's thoughts; he was well known for being difficult to read.
Loki jumped down from the window ledge with an unimaginable grace. Tucking his book under his arm, he reached out and took your hand in his before bringing it to his lips and placing a brief kiss on your knuckles. "Until next time, Y/N."
"Goodbye, my pri... Goodbye, Loki," you said, correcting yourself mid sentence. To hear his name fall from your lips seemed to brighten Loki's face tenfold but you told yourself fiercely that you must have imagined it. He was merely being kind. Acting the gentleman that he had been conditioned to be since birth.
Finally letting your hand drop from his, Loki flashed you a devilish smile before striding off through the kitchen. You watched as everyone in the kitchen fell to their knees as he passed, blindly muttering praises for their prince, and it made you wonder why you hadn't done the same thing upon first seeing him.
Loki returned the day after, and the day after that, and every day after that in the months that followed. He rarely ever uttered a word, more than content to sit by the window in silence either reading his books or watching you and the other kitchen staff work.
"You've been reading that same page now for almost an hour," you pointed out one afternoon. You'd gotten quite used to having the prince's company and somehow, despite rarely ever actually speaking to one another, you'd formed quite a friendship. Loki always seemed to relax when he came down to the kitchens and you found his company equally calming. "What's on your mind?"
"My father has indicated that he should like Thor and I to take wives."
"Are you to take multiple wives or will you start with just one?"
"Don't be facetious, Y/N," Loki sighed, leaning his head back against the wall.
Watching him, you realised just how much this bothered him. Loki had his fingers locked together and was constantly running his thumb over his palm - an action you'd noticed him repeat whenever he was feeling anxious. Putting down your knife, you turned fully towards him and said, "If you do not wish to marry, don't. Surely it is that simple."
Loki let out a harsh laugh and let his head roll to the side to face you. Those mischievous eyes of his looked so sad, so lost. "I have a duty to my kingdom. I have no choice."
"You should always have a choice, Loki. If you marry out of duty rather than love, you will undoubtedly be miserable. No kingdom wants to see their prince suffer," you said, consciously trying to soften the frown on your face. "Does the king have women in mind for your marriages?"
"As of yet, he does not. However, we are to hold a ball and all in Asgard shall attend."
"Not all," you grumbled before you could stop yourself. Of course, only the richest and most powerful Asgardians would be invited. The grand lords and ladies that swanned around the palace looking down their noses at you, as if you were nothing more than dirt on their shoes. There would definitely be no invitation for you or the other servants. Odin would never allow his sons to interact with such unworthy company.
Loki suddenly sat up straight, clearly having noticed how your body stiffened at the thought of Odin's anger should he ever learn that you were on a first name basis with the prince. You, a humble kitchen maid. Definitely unworthy of the company of royals. Bowing your head, you shuffled backwards until you hit your back on the hard worktop and mumbled, "I think you should leave, my prince."
"Why?" he asked, swinging his legs off the ledge and resting his elbows on his knees. There was a hard note in his voice but you knew it wasn't anger. Not quite, anyway. Loki beckoned you forward and you weren't so stupid to refuse a direct order from the prince. Taking your hands in his, Loki said, "I have opened my thoughts to you, Y/N. I would like to hope that you felt comfortable enough to do the same."
"I do not think the king would react favourably to our... friendship," you said quietly.
Much to your surprise, a smile crossed Loki's face as he let your hands drop to your side. "I am honoured to hear that you consider me to be a friend."
"Please don't mock me."
"I would never dare. These past few months I have come to regard you as a friend too. There are few in the palace with whom I feel so comfortable confiding in. I care little about whatever my father may have to say about us."
"Oh. I... Thank you, Loki," you breathed, shocked at the admission. Lifting your gaze, you smiled at the prince and asked, "So, when is the ball? You do know that, even as one of our beloved princes, you won't be allowed anywhere near the kitchens beforehand. The preparation for a feast to feed half of Asgard will send this place into utter mayhem."
"Even I am not brave enough to face the wrath of your head chef. I believe it is to be held at the month's end."
"Plenty of time for you to practise your dancing then," you teased, knowing how much Loki hated to dance. For one so graceful, his utter hatred for the activity had taken you completely by surprise. "I do not envy the poor young woman tasked with teaching you."
"Perhaps you could teach me?" Loki asked. The words had barely left his lips before you refused so adamantly that the prince could not contain his laughter. He gently squeezed your arm, shaking his head in amusement as he moved to leave. "One day, Y/N. One day I'll get that dance."
"In your dreams."
"No, Y/N. In yours." He bowed his head by way of goodbye and you prayed that he would never know how much you longed for such an opportunity to dance with him.