Verdandi was a common servant girl. She had served the royal family for many years. She had grown from a young child into the beautiful woman she was now inside the palace walls. She had no memories of her birth parents or even a picture to remember them by. She was found by a young woman named Embla, a servant who worked in the palace, and had called her 'mother' ever since.
She had been raised alongside Thor and Loki, for there weren't many children inside the palace. Her mother Embla had been friends with Queen Frigga for hundreds of years and had come to her for advice when she had found Verdandi. She and Loki used to play pranks on poor, unsuspecting Thor. They had been the best of friends. Causing mischief and having many adventures. It wasn't long before everything changed.
She had been close to Loki and Thor when they were young but they had grown farther apart when duties began to pile on the young princes once they had become old enough to understand their duties to realm and Verdandi began learning the ways of being a servant inside the palace. Their days had filled with many different tasks, and they could no longer spend time with each other as they used to.
So the days when they use to run in the Queen's garden turned into those of training and learning. And so, the young princes had forgotten Verdandi, but she had not forgotten them. Not even when Thor was banished or when Loki fell and his family mourned his death, she wouldn't forget them. They were too precious to her.
But one day, she had been asked by Queen Frigga herself for a favor.
'Please watch over him for me. I fear that I am no longer welcome in my son's eyes. But not you, my dear Verdandi. He could never hate you. You are too special to him and the only friend he has.'
And that was how Verdandi found herself in the prisons of Asgard at night, scrubbing the floors so as to keep him company without his knowing. She knew how Loki would get if he found out the truth. Her long, curly raven black hair was tied up but some ran over her shoulder, refusing to comply. Her servant's uniform, a plain white dress that reached her ankles with sleeves ending at her elbows with a golden band around her waist and neck, was tied so that it would not get dirty on the prison floor.
He had paid her no heed as she scrubbed in front of his cell. She thinks he doesn't even remember her. Yet, she could not help but stare. His emerald eyes were entranced in whatever story he was reading, his eyes quickly scanning over the text. It was a small leather-bound book, one that could be held in one hand with ease. It showed usage as if it had been read many time, but was treated with care.
It was a familiar book, one she remembered her mother reading to her, Thor, and Loki a long time ago. It had been a favorite of hers and Loki, and would constantly ask her mother to read it to them. It had been one of her favorite past times with the princes and one of her most cherished memories.
"That one's one of my favorites," she couldn't help but say. She watched as his piercing emerald eyes lifted from the small brown book and meet her soft lilac ones. They were searching in their gaze. They soon filled with warmth as happy childhood memories were brought forth, a small smile at the edge of his lips.
He shuts the book and stands from the corner he had been leaning on and walked back to his small pile of books. They were each different in color and size.
"I find it frightfully dull. I am about to give up on reading it," he mutters but she hears it all the same.
"You haven't changed at all have you, Loki?" she says wistfully with a small smile. When he was young, Loki tended not to bother with books that could not hold his interest. Though that one storybook had always been a favorite of his, just as much as it was hers.
"One does eventually tire of reading the same book over and over again. Don't you agree, Verdandi?"
"But of course. Would you rather I tell you a story?" she had missed this, spending time with him and Thor.
"As you can see Verdandi," he said, spreading his arms, "I have nothing else to do here."
"Well come on then, don't just stand there!" she said with a hint of excitement.
Gracefully, he walked to a spot in front of her and sat down with his legs crossed. She dumped her brush inside the bucket she had brought with her, deeming her chores finished and quickly untied her dress and sat in front of him on the steps leading to his cell.
"There was a time long ago..."
And so every night after that, Verdandi would have a new tale to tell Loki, never once repeating the same story. After she would be done with her washing, she would sit on the steps to his cell and spin a new tale of princesses, knights of valor, sorcerers, and so on. Each night she could see his anticipation no matter how much it was hidden underneath layers of indifference. She knew him better than he thought.
Some tales are ones she's heard as a child. Some are from books she had read or stories she's heard in passing. And sometimes they're stories she made just for him. With each story she could see his eyes, wide with wonder, as her tales came to life in his head. Words came to life with her own silver tongue. She enjoyed spending time with him. She missed the times when she and the brothers had not a care in the world except each other. Where they would chase each other in the Queen's personal gardens or take naps together after hours of play.
One night, as she was leaving the young prince with her new tale, one of the guards that stood not far from Loki's cell commented to her of her stories.
"We watch him you know? It is our duty. But even us guardsmen can tell the effect your tales have on Prince Loki since he was brought here. He is calm. Prince Thor visits in the afternoons and he can see it as well. We have told him of your tales and sends his thanks to you."
At those words, she couldn't help but beam. That was the biggest compliment she had ever received and she was thankful to the brave guard. She had began doubting that her tales had bored Loki, but with the guard's reassuring words she walked out with a new spring to her step.
Her head already concocting a new tale for the next evening.
"Verdandi! Verdandi!"
She turned from where she was walking down the large halls and met with two familiar baby blue eyes.
"Good day, Prince Thor. Can I be of service?" she asked, her hands clasped in front of her, and her head bowing silently.
"Nay. I wish to thank you for what you have done for my brother. Not many would have stood up to him because of what he has done. So many are scared of him, but not you Verdandi. You never were. And for that I am grateful and forever in your debt, dear Verdandi."
"It was no trouble really. I was just…helping an old friend."
She had not seen it coming.
Asgard was attacked by the dark elves, the ones she had read in stories and passing. They had been prepared in their invasion, and had quickly overrun the palace and had somehow destroyed the protective barrier shielding it.
Queen Frigga had passed during the dark elf invasion. She had been protecting Thor's fair maiden, Lady Jane, when she fell, her injuries far too grievous. It had been Verdandi and Thor who had found the Queen in her chambers, Lady Jane failing to tend to her wounds. Thor had gone after the one called Malekith while she tried to save the Queen's life, but it was for naught. The Queen passed and Asgard was left to mourn.
"I miss her mother." she weeps to her mother.
"As do I, child. As do I." Embla could only say. She had lost a good friend.
She walked in just as a guard had finished delivering the news to Loki and promptly leaving the fallen prince. She hesitates, expecting to see some reaction, some emotion from the son the Queen favored. Yet she finds none. He returns to the book he had been reading and says nothing.
And for that, she can't help but hate him.
When she finally finds herself scrubbing the floor outside his cell, she looks in and finds him unfazed, as if nothing is wrong. As if his mother had not died and sacrificed herself to save Asgard. As if she meant nothing to him.
She thought he had loved his mother, the two near inseparable. The Queen had taught him magic, had taught him her unique fighting style after admonishing him that his lean stature and intelligence were not compatible with Asgard's. That there was no such thing as fairness in battle, for the one who cheats and tricks wins.
Whilst his father favored Thor and his fighting prowess, a perfect, golden example of an Asgardian, his mother favored his intelligence and natural talent with magic. She was the one who encouraged his studies, knowing full well the repercussions for teaching her son what was thought to be a woman's art. Thor may have been Odin's son, but Loki had been Frigga's.
'How dare he! His own mother is gone and he sheds not a single tear!'
She throws her brush into her bucket and stomps up the stairs to his cell. Her hands are clenched at her sides as her molten gaze threatens to burst him into flames. No. This cannot be the Loki she knew. The Loki she knew loved his mother dearly, and would have gladly died for her if it meant that she would live.
"How dare you! Queen Frigga has passed and yet you shed not a tear for her!" she could not help the tears that flooded her cheeks. Had Loki changed that much? Did the revealing of his heritage have such an impact on him that he denounced all those he called family?
He continued to throw the object he held in in his hand into the air and catching without as much as glance to her. She noticed that he had not moved from the same position and had played with the same object for the last two hours, but quickly forgot in her rage.
"ANSWER ME!" she screamed as she slammed her hand on the magic barrier that separated them.
With that, the spell surrounding his cell vanished and she could not help but gasp at the scene.
Rather than a calm and collected Loki, she saw him utterly broken, sitting against the wall opposite the barrier, with his furniture in pieces around him. There was smeared blood across the floor, and the books were ripped, papers scattered all over the cell.
He looked up at her, trembling. His face was tear-stained, eyes red and swollen from crying, hair a frightful mess, and she spotted a cut on his foot from where he stepped on broken glass.
In a shaking, small voice, he said, "Please...tell me a story." Her eyes widened. He had never sounded so...broken before. And in that instant, Verdandi took back all the words she had spoken against him. This was the Loki she knew.
His eyes filled with fresh tears as his hand reached to stop them from falling down his face, failing miserably.
"Tell me something beautiful...please!"
How could she refuse?