"L... Sir, what happened?" Jóka asked, hurrying over to her master after she had set the bathwater away for him, as she assumed he would ask her to. He had already slumped down in his armchair, his fingers gently touching his upper lip, as it so often did. She watched him curiously, taking in every aspect of him. Even though she had only been separated from him for a few hours, she had been worried to the point of insanity; she supposed it was because they were together almost every waking hour otherwise.

Loki looked up at her, his green eyes hardened and colder than usual. Something was wrong, Jóhanna's gut twisted with the thought of him being cast out of Asgard, "Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Where is your brother?"

The icy glare she was shot was enough to make Jóhanna close her mouth. She gathered that she would need to eavesdrop on the other servants' conversations in order to discover what had happened. Instead of perusing the matter, as Loki had expected her to do, she inclined her body as though to bow, "Will there be anything else you need of me?"

The man looked at her, concealing his feelings expertly as he considered ordering her to be with him that night, which he shook away immediately; whether he ordered or not, he was sure that she would refuse.

"No." He said after a long while, "You are dismissed until further notice. I will send for you if I need you."

Jóka smiled sadly at him, his face remained unchanged as he watched her take a tentative step forward and curtsey. It was most unlike her to do so, he noted, for she was usually quite argumentative and snappy, "Of course, sir. Please, do not hesitate to send for me if you desire anything."

"Of course, now leave me, girl."

A frown overcame Jóhanna's features, as though it pained her to leave him in such a state. Loki watched her intently, unsure of whether or not to call her back to him or not...

"Jó-" he started, pausing himself mid-word, for he had not spoken her name before. He had always called her 'girl' or 'servant'...

The servant spun on her heel in delight, alas it was not her full name, but she took great joy in the thought of him knowing her name, and even more in the fact that he had allowed himself to slip up and speak the first syllable, "Yes, master?"

Loki raised one of his fine eyebrows, master?

"Nothing. Leave." He knew she had called him that before, but he realised how sweet it was to him for her to refer to him as her master...

Dammit Loki, stop! He ordered himself mentally, standing up, she is your servant, not your woman. It's disgusting!

After removing his shirt, along with the rest of his clothing, he examined his bathwater, noting a difference in colour and odour. Jóhanna usually ran plain bathwater, but then it seemed, she had given the water a rose tint and a sweet, relaxing scent. How she had done it, Loki did not know, but he felt himself smile against his will at the thought of her taking the time to prepare such a thing for him. It made him wonder whether she was genuine, or whether she was up to something.

He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he did. His thin, perfect lips turned up slightly in a smile, a smile which betrayed him in the denial he still wished he was going through. Of course he wanted her. It was ridiculous to think otherwise! A woman, one who not only tolerated him but served him, spoke and argued with him too. He had grown to love the uniqueness of her plainness; he accepted that she was not the most beautiful, nor was she of a high stature or in possession of wealth or a great amount of knowledge... He knew her though. He knew more about her than he did his own family, in the same way that she knew him beyond comparison to anything but the other. He mourned the loss of her parents with her; he loved the smell of lavender and the feel of dew against skin with her too.

Living inside someone's head for so long had slight side effects that were; on his part at least, feelings of affection.

For someone to have changed so quickly, to have transformed from a harsh, bitchy servant to a kind, thoughtful, beautiful woman more than worthy of a God in Loki's eyes in such a short time was unusual. It was nigh on impossible, in fact, for Loki had told himself long ago that it was Thor who was to be king and Thor to be the ladies man, and for Loki to always remain in the shadows.

Now though, now everything he had ever known about himself and his brother was crumbling around him, he still felt inferior to his older brother, but he felt less... in despair. His brother had been cast out, sent to Midgard, after all.

He wondered about the casket as he slipped into the hot, soothing, rosy water... Perhaps he would pay a visit to the relic after his soak...