You leaned against a tree in the woods on the outskirts of Asgard, eyes closed in peace, your dark feathered wings folded at your back. This peace was promptly disposed of when you heard a crash through the brush. In a split second, you flew up into the tree's high branches, crouched down in anticipation.
"Brother, why do you insist I come along on these excursions?" A smooth yet clearly irritated voice asked.
"It would not be right to leave you behind, Loki. Besides, even you can't stay cooped up inside reading all day." The second voice was deep and booming, it unnerved you a little. The crashing resumed, growing fainter as you assumed the people passed. You felt the branch you perched upon begin to bend and crack with a loud crunch.
Oh no, oh no, oh no! You quickly flew up, finding another perch. But not before the branch fell into the bush and caused the receding people to stop and notice. Your internal thoughts were all a flutter, panicking at the thought of being found.
"What was that?"
"I don't know, Thor. Perhaps a squirrel? It's no matter, let's move on."
You nearly went limp with relief.
~~~
You woke in the night from where you lay under a scraggly wool blanket with a start, (e/c) eyes wide with anticipation.
"Hello. And who might you be?"
You said nothing, merely held the blanket tighter to yourself and backed against the trunk of the tree, gaping at what was possibly the most striking human you'd ever met. Not what you might find traditionally handsome, but with dark slicked back hair and very prominent cheekbones. His eyes were what caught your attention, that odd color that was neither precisely green nor blue but very sharp.
He sat across from you, leaning casually against a tree with his hands clasped behind his head. He regarded you like one might a lost pet, with curiosity and mingled concern, or was it pity? You weren't sure.
"Don't worry, my dear. I promise not to bite," he chuckled, seeing how you stared.
"Wh-who are you? How did you find me?" you asked, nervously bunching the material of the blanket in your hands.
"My name is Loki. However, you may know me as Prince Loki of Asgard. It wasn't hard to find you honestly, just retrace my steps through this godsforsaken wood."
It was then that you recalled the voices from earlier. A prince! Of all people to stumble across where you lived, it just had to be a prince.
"You heard me?"
"Quite loudly. If my dear brother wasn't such an oaf, he would have realized you were hiding up a tree."
Scratch that, one prince was bad enough, but two!? You blushed, when Loki mentioned the tree.
"Why are you here then? Couldn't you be back at the palace? In bed?"
"I can't deny I was curious," he admitted. "I rarely need more than a few hours sleep. So I came to see why you were hidden up a tree to begin with. Or in these woods. Any fair maiden shouldn't be out here alone."
You bit your lip nervously, dropping your head and letting a strand of (h/c) hair fall to obscure your face and hide you blush. You felt far from fair.
"I... I don't do well around other people."
"Why not?" he pressed.
Sighing, you pushed the blanket aside, suppressing a shiver in the cool dewy night air. You shifted where you sat and unfolded your wings.
Loki expression changed, not only was he intrigued but slightly awed.
"I've never seen an Asgardian with wings like those. May I?" Silently, you nodded. He got to his knees and moved closer to where you sat, examining the wing. The feathers were a dark brown, nearly black. They resembled that of a swan's, though much larger. He ran a hand along the top edge. You shivered again, from the cold but also the intimacy of his actions. He pulled his hand away, you immediately wrapped your wings around your bare arms. The thin dress you wore did little keeping you warm.
"Fascinating..." Loki muttered. His head shot back up, eyes alight with sudden enthusiasm. "Were you born like this? Are you an Asgardian?"
"Yes and yes. And no, no one in my family has wings. I was born a little different."
"I see." There was an uncomfortable pause. "What's your name?" he asked, changing the subject.
"(y/n)."
"(y/n)," Loki repeated, as though savoring the way it formed on his tongue. "Well, (y/n), my dear, I must return to the palace now." Before he stood to leave, he ran a hand gently across your forehead, brushing your (h/c) bangs away from your face.
"Much better," he concluded, smirking slightly.
"Farewell, Prince Loki," you whispered, watching as he walked away.