"Are you sure I can wear this?" I ask, looking into the large mirror.
"Yes, why wouldn't you be able to?" Loki asks from outside the door.
"It's so... Nice." I hesitate, turning around in the mirror.
It's soft, fits perfect, clean, and made of good material. Bjorn never, ever had me wear something like this. All I ever wore were hand me downs from past maids. Tinted brown, patches sewn into the apron to cover holes and rips, baggy, and worn-out thin material. Itchy and uncomfortable. Getting in the way due to the size. There was a number of times I'd be cleaning, and my sleeves would soak up the cleaning product, or even knock something over. I've broken a glass before. Bjorn was not happy, to say the least.
The shoes were just as clean and comfortable as the dress, simple black-heeled boots. Just about two inches high. I open the door and step out, feeling strange in these new garments.
"Are you more comfortable?" Loki asks, doing a quick scan.
I nod, lacing my fingers together in front of me.
"Good. I was informed your new bed and frame are in your room now." He says folding his hands behind his back, turning and walking.
"Will this be the only dress I have?" I ask, now wondering about the rest of my wardrobe.
"No, of course not. It's just for today. How poorly did Bjorn treat you?" Loki asks, frowning and looking back at me.
I don't answer. I merely look down.
"I'm sorry." He says. It's weird, a god apologizing to me.
His informalness always strikes me as odd. He is so formal, all the time, with everyone. The only person he's known to be informal and mistievious around is his brother, Thor. But, he talks to me as though he is not a god, and I am not a servant at his command.
"It's not your fault. Some people are just, not good people." I say. "I think most people are that way." I add.
"Do others treat you like he did?"
"Yes. And no." I say. I'm not sure entirely how to answer that.
"Yes and no?" He smirks, casting a glance at me. "That's hardly an answer."
"It's just, hard to explain. It's hard for me to even wrap my head around, sometimes."
"Well, then perhaps one day you can explain properly, but until then, I won't pressure."
I appreciate this more than he could ever know.
When we reach my new room, he opens the door for me, letting me go in first. I don't realize at first, but then I stop halfway through the doorway.
Inside the walls are no longer gray, instead they are a soft lilac, with a light gray accent wall where the window is. There's a new desk, which is white, and adorned with gold. The bedframe is the same, with drawers underneath. The bed sheets are lilac, like the walls, with daisys sewn into them, as well as little bees.
"Woah." Is all I manage to say. Even the floor boards are different. Instead of the creaky, splotchy, uneven dark brown, they're black and smooth.
"Do you like it?" Loki asks.
"Yeah it's... It's really pretty." I smile. On the dresser is a fresh vase of flowers, Lillie's, deep red roses, daylilies, and daisies.
"Good. I'll have someone bring up some clothes for you. I'll be in my room, tomorrow I'll have a list for you."
With that he gently closes the door and leaves. I smile to myself, collapsing onto the bed. It's not as hard as it was last time, and instead my body sinks into the soft foam. I've never had a bed so comfy in my life.
I stand from the bed, going to the window, and sliding it open. I let the fresh air in, getting rid of the dead smell in the air.
I go down to the library, which is a quick 5 minute walk, pick out a few books, then go back to my room. Not doing any work feels a bit strange, but it's also nice.
I place the books I choose up on a small shelf above my bed. Loki really had this room made up quite nicely.
I open my first book, and read until dinner.
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
I have never slept so good in my life. Ive never woken up and felt so refreshed. I left the window open, and now my room smells like heaven.
I have never slept in in my life. Not even yesterday. Loki woke me up to make sure I got breakfast, and then we immidetly went to Bjorn.
It's late morning, which is the longest I've slept in since I was teenager. And even then, I was usually up working in my mom's bakery.
I yawn and stretch, allowing the sleep to leave my body. I stand, swinging my feet over the bed and step off. I sit down at my desk, which has drawers on the side, a cushioned chair, and a mirror adorned with painted flowers. I wouldn't consider myself nessasrily girly, but flowers always seem to brighten a damp room. I look at myself in the mirror, and who I look at simply doesn't feel like me.
Long hair- it hasn't been more then trimmed in 8 years- that reaches my thighs. Much too long. My eyes are still dulled, and the dark circles still present. My cheek still has the bruise, although it seems to be fading slowly, and no longer hurts everytime I open my mouth. I grab my brush, combing through my never-ending locks of (h/c) and twist it into a low bun using a pencil I found in a drawer. The low bun feels better, but it still doesn't feel correct. Doesn't feel like me.
I think I lost myself, somewhere within the castle. I don't know my favorite color. Or my favorite animal. Nor my favorite flower. Not my favorite food or drink. I don't remember any of my hobbies. All I know is I like to be outside, and I like to learn of Midgard. Their lives seems much less controlled then mine.
A knock interrupts my thoughts, and I pull my eyes from my mirror-self, a self I do not recognize, and utter a "come in"
Loki opens the door, already dressed for the day, his curly locks of pitch-black hair fall loosely around his face, cascading down to just above his shoulders.
"Good morning, (y/n)." He smiles. "How are you feeling?"
"Good." I say. This isn't entirely a lie. I do feel good. If I don't think too much.
"I'm glad. Here, I've made a list for you. I understand that Bjorn has you do basically everything for him but dress and feed him, but I don't have many tasks for you." He tells me, holding out a paper.
The paper is white and clean. Soft, too. White paper like this is a luxury to me. His handwriting is neat, it loops and swirls. Only now do I remember I cannot read cursive.
I squint, attempting to read each task, but I only get halfway through the first one before Loki interrupts me.
"Is something wrong?" He asks me.
"I, uh, I can't read cursive." I admit, hanging my head. I feel foolish.
"Oh. That's alright, darling. Just dust, organize my books, sweep, and keep my fire going." He says. I wasn't really expecting him to not judge me, any time I've ever told someone I can't read cursive, they get upset, and tell me I'm stupid. I still think I am.
"That'll only take me a few hours." I say, suprised.
He nods.
"There isn't much to do. If you'd like you can organize more of my things beyond the books, but, I really don't have much you need to do. It's why I never needed a maid."
"Then.. why have me as yours?" I ask.
His smile fades, and I feel as though I've just crossed a line.
"I- I'm sorry. I shouldn't be questioning you." I say.
"No, no it's quite alright. It just caught me a bit off gaurd." He tells me, his smile still not returning.
"Please don't think I'm ungrateful. I am. I really, truly am so greatful for your hospitality." I tell him quickly.
I can't let this leave. I can't mess this good thing I have up. I've lost so much. I can't go back to Bjorn, and I can't leave the castle. I have no one.
My eye sight blurrs, and I curse under my breath, feeling silly for crying at such a minor thing. I wipe my eyes with the sleeve of my night gown, hoping Loki doesn't notice.
Of course, he does.
"Hey, hey it's ok. I don't think you're ungrateful. I know you aren't. And I'm not going to make you go back to Bjorn. Ever. Nor will you leave the castle unless it is your decision. I promise." He tells me, cupping my face and whipping a tear with his thumb.
His touch is so much different from anyone else's I have ever experienced. His hands aren't rough like Bjorn's. Instead they're soft, and suprisingly warm. His touch sends comfort through me, and I can feel my body instantly relax, and my heart beat steadies itself.
"How did you-" I start, but he quick to cut me off.
"I can read minds, darling." He smiles.
"Right." I say, embarrassed. How could I forget that?
"It's easy to forget, if you aren't around me often." He says, removing his hands from my face.
I miss the warmth.
"Are you.. constantly reading my mind?" I ask.
"Of course not. Just, when I think I need to. I'm not constantly tapped into your mind, don't worry darling."
I feel a wave of relief wash over me, and I can't help but let out an airy laugh.
"I do have things to do today however. I can't say you'll see much of me most of the time. But, if you ever need anything, I'm in my room everynight by 10." He tells me, and then leaves without another word.
I get dressed quickly, slipping into the comfortable thick fabric, and leather boots. I walk out of the door, and cross to Loki's room, directly Infront of my door.
His door is arched and large, with his image, and his large golden horns, carved into the door, shimmering with gold and emerald. Very extra.
I knock, just to make sure, and as no one answers, I push the heavy door open with all my strength.
Inside, Loki's room is large. The walls are tall, and black, with gold and emerald swirls. The floor is marbled black and grey. The wall furthest from the door is not a wall at all, but rather a large window, which looks like it opens, and a large balcony outside of it. His bed is pushed against a corner instead of being in the middle of the room, which I find a little odd, but I do the same. Open spaced beds freak me out. His bed sheets and blankets are black, and the canopy of his bed is emerald green. It's not hard to know what Loki's favourite color is.
He has shelves and shelves of books, artifacts, and other strange objects. He has a map strewn about on a wall, I'm not sure what of, it's looks incredibly complicated.
There's a door, which I open, and inside is a large walk in closet. It smells soley of his cologne. I have quickly come to like the smell of his cologne. He has clothes on hangers, and folded into open dressers, and shoes stacked on their designated stand. I run my hand over the hung clothes, surprised that a number of them are comfortable clothes, like Midgardians wear. Hoodies, jackets, and, shockingly, sweat pants. I've never seen Loki in anything but his royal garments, and imagining Loki in sweat pants and a t-shirt makes me blush.
Stop imagining such... Unholy images. But, gods he would be so hot in sweats. I wonder if you could see-
I shake my head, clear my throat and leave the closet, my face hot.
I open a second door, and Inside is a much smaller closet, with a broom, bin, feather-duster, mop and bucket, and a few other cleaning supplies. I grab the duster and quickly get to work.
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
I stand on my tip toes, trying to reach the very top of his shelves, but it doesn't work. I give up with a sigh, glancing around the room, seeing if there's something I can stand on. I'd feel bad standing on his desk chair. But there isn't really much else.
I grab the chair, and carry it to the shelf. I remove my shoes, as the chair is cousioned, and stand on it. I move the chair around the room as I dust the shelves I cannot reach, and even with the chair, a few shelves I have to stand on my toes to reach.
I'm just doing the last shelf when the door clicks open. I turn my head, and see Loki's figure enter the room, walking straight towards me.
"You shouldn't be standing on that chair. Expessially in socks." He cautions. I turn my head, going back to dusting.
"It's alright." I tell him.
He hums, then sits down on his bed, laying down with a sigh.
"Is everything okay?" I ask him, moving my foot slightly to the left.
"Just a headache. And a horrible one at that." He says.
"Can I get you anything?" I turn my head, absently mindedly moving my foot too far whilst trying to twist and look at him.
My foot slips over the edge, my socks not helping with the grip, sending me over the edge with a gasp.
I fall with a loud "thud" onto the marble, the chair tipping and falling, being pushed back slightly.
"(Y/n)!" Loki is quick to stand and walk to me, concern written across his face. "Are you ok?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine." I laugh, embarrassed.
"Are you sure?" He asks, helping me up.
My hip feels like it just got hit with a bat, and I know a bruise will be forming.
"Yes, I'm fine." I say, still smiling.
"I told you not to stand on that." He reminds, slightly upset with me.
"I'm sorry." And it's true, I am. I don't care that I fell, I fall all the time, but feeling like I didn't trust Loki enough to get off the chair makes me feel bad.
"I'll find you a stool for next time. Don't dust if you can't reach, ok?" He says, going back to his bed.
I nod, picking the chair up and putting it back. I put the books I had knocked off the shelf while falling back in their place, the embarassment still making my face flush.
"But, can I get you anything?" I ask again.
"Some tea would be wonderful. And could you draw the curtains?" He says, covering his eyes with his arm.
"Of course."
I draw the curtains, making the room infinitely more dark, the only other light being from the fire, and the few candles littered around his room.
His fire place is up against a wall, the same side of the room as his bed. Around the fire place is a small stack of wood, a tea kettle, a rug, and green loveseat with a black fluffy blanket. There is also another chair, and a small table between the chair and loveseat, which has a few books stacked on it.
"Where is..."
"The tea is in my closet. You can grab whichever. There's water already In the kettle, and there's a cup on that table, too." He tells me, not looking, his arms still crossed over his eyes.
I go into his large closet, grabbing the first tea bag I see, which happens to be mint.
I put the kettle on the fire hook, and sit on the floor Infront of the fire.
"What part of Asgard were you born in?" I hear Loki ask.
I glance over at him, he is still laying across his bed, arms over his eyes.
"The southern most park of the city. Near the ports." I tell him, looking back into the fire.
"What landed you hear? The southern side has a lot of opportunities. Fishing, captain of boats, diving discoveries, chefs, blacksmith, local gaurd, basically everything."
"My mom died. And, my dad left when I was 10, he was in and out for awhile then he left and never came back, he had a lot of... Struggles to say the least." I explain, allowing him to know the truth.
I had only told Bjorn that I thought working in the castle would be nice. Which was a complete lie.
"I'm sorry. Do you have siblings?" He asks
"Yes- no. Well, I did. I was the youngest of two boys and two girls. 4 in total, counting me. My older brother killed himself after my mom passed, and both my sister and brother died in a horrible fishing accident. After that I lost the house, because I was only 14. I lived with some of my friends for a few months, but then they all got sick of me, so one by one they kicked me out." This story is rather long, but when I look over at Loki, instead of laying with his arms over his head, he is sitting up, watching and listening intently. "After that, I was homeless for a short time, then some nice old lady told me that most people are accepted into the castle as maid or servants. So, I went there. And then I was a maid, and I've been there for 8 years."
"You've been here since you were 15?" He asks, sitting up more. "You're only 23?" He asks, his eyebrows raising in surprise.
I nod, removing the tea kettle from the fire using the fire hook.
"I'm sorry." He says to me, standing up and walking over. He sits on the loveseat, closest to the tables.
"It's not your fault. I just got a bad hand." I say, placing the kettle down on the small metal platform it sat on before.
"But still, that must've been horrible to go through."
"It was." I say, recalling how horrible it was, and how alone I was. "I just try not to think about it. My mom slowly dying, being so helpless. My sister found my brother, and I saw him when she screamed, and I ran to see what had happened. I was the youngest, but, everyone still leaned on me for support. I took over the bakery, and Sareya and Seán took to fishing. But, it didn't last very long. I still don't know what I did to my friends. I tried so hard. I cleaned their houses, cooked, helped with anything that ever needed to be done, and never complained. I don't know what I did." I feel tears fall from my eyes, sizzling onto the hot metal plate I was sat Infront of.
"You didn't do anything." He lowers his voice to just above a soft whisper.
"I just wish people would stop hating me. I try so hard. I just don't understand." I feel a sob shake through my body.
Fuck, crying again? (Y/n) get your shit together. This is ridiculous. He has a headache for Valhalla's sake. The last thing he wants is his maid to cry.
"Little fawn, please, it's okay."
"Fawn?" I sniff, pouring the hot water into the cup, adding the tea bag.
"It means 'baby deer' and, well, a fawn simply reminds me of you." I hand him his tea, my tears slowing.
"Why?" I ask, sitting on the loveseat a bit away from him.
"Big eyes, innocent, timid, sweet, caring." He says, taking a sip of his tea. "Small, delicate." He pauses, setting his cup down. "Pretty and cute."
I don't know how to respond, so I look away, palming my eyes.
Does he really think of me like that? Surely he can't. More like stupid, clumsy, and irritating.
"You're not stupid, nor irritating. And I find your clumsiness rather cute."
Loki's POV
Well, I certainly crossed a line. There isn't any going back from this.
"I'm sorry." She whispers.
"For?"
"Crying again. Making you have to make me feel better."
"You don't have to apologize, darling. I simply wish for you to feel ok." I tell her.
She's curled her legs into her arms, and sits staring at the fire, distanced from me, and possibly her surroundings. I wish nothing more then to pull her to my lap and hold her. Tell her it's going to be ok.
"Why are you so nice to me?" She whispers, a few more tears escape her.
"I care about you." I tell her flatly.
"Why? You don't know me. I'm just some maid. Some maid who got hit so you noticed." She scoffs, now glaring into the fire.
"That wasn't the first time I noticed you, you know."
She glances over at me, her eyes a bit wide. They reflect the fire, making a beautiful mix of oranges and (e/c).
I inhale heavily, then sigh.
"I think the first time, you were in my gardens, sitting in a tree and reading. It was suprising, seeing someone in my garden. No one is supposed to go there without permission. But, you weren't doing anything but reading, your hair was down, and your shoes were at the bottom of the tree. A bee landed on your book, and I saw you smile, moving it to your hand, before it flew away. I had never seen someone so at peace." I explain, meeting her eyes. "After that, I started noticing you everywhere. Working, mostly, but sometimes in the garden early morning or late at night. You intrigued me, and when I found you crying outside Bjorn's door, a mark on your face, I couldn't not help you. I didn't do it out of pity. I just don't like seeing you upset. Or in pain."
She doesn't say anything, but she does shuffle closer slightly.
I smile gently, then reach over, moving my arm around her waist, and pulling her next to me. She lets out a small gasp, tense at first, but then quickly relaxes into my side, a small sigh leaves her lips.
"I hope I'm not making you uncomfortable. I can move if you wish."
"No, don't. Please." She mutters, looking up at me through long lashes and glossy eyes. She yawns, laying her head on my shoulder. She's perpetually tired.
"Why don't you rest? I'll wake you for dinner." I whisper, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Ok." And with that her eyes close, and she relaxes into me completely.
She's small, warm and soft. I swear, I'm going to marry this woman. Some day. For now, I'll simply let her take this at her own pace.