Enjoy! x
There are tales that are whispered by other servants, moments where they relay their amusement or annoyance as the two princes go about their daily schedules. The servant girls worship the moments they witness of family supper, wondering what it would be like to be noticed by a prince as a commoner. Wondering what it would be like if either prince found his true love waiting on them during the day or happening upon them while mending clothes or using the very little free time they have to read in the library as the evening light fades. Wondering what it would be like to be a princess, or even better, the future Queen of Asgard.
You have no such ambitions, even in the most fanciful parts of your heart. Born to a small noble family with sequestered funds, due to your uncle's gambling luck, your position as a head lady's maid keeps your immediate family afloat and your days busy. You do not have time to wonder about your distant future when you are in charge of keeping charge of the maids beneath you and making sure the Queen of Asgard's needs are met and satisfied. Your duties and chores do not leave much time for a journey into your imagination.
The day of Thor's coronation beings about many different things, but it does not give Asgard, the shining beacon of the Nine Realms, a Crown Prince. You are not present in the Hall of Asgard when The Allfather pauses in the middle of the coronation speech to proclaim the arrival of a band of rebels come from Jotunheim. You meet the Queen halfway to her quarters, surrounded by guards keeping watch in case this is more than just a merry band of dissidents seeking to cause terror. You stay by her side for the remainder of the afternoon, even after it is proclaimed that Asgard is safe and the Jotuns were killed before they could even leave Odin's Vault with the prized Casket of Ancient Winters.
"What do you think of my sons?" Her Majesty asks almost listlessly as you comb through her hair, trying to bring a sense of normalcy to an otherwise very unusual day. Her gaze pierces yours and you wonder what to say. Many notice the contrasts between the two brothers. One golden-haired and boisterous while the other retains hair like night and a silence that borders on the edge of muteness concerning most occasions. They are opposites in almost every way, except all know they both love Asgard. "You have my full permission to speak your mind. I would expect nothing less from you, especially after how this day has gone."
"I only know your sons through very limited moments of observation and the whispers of court and other servants, my Queen, so my opinion is most likely inaccurate and partial." She shrugs her shoulders and motions with her hand for you to continue anyway. You take a deep breath, trying to choose your words wisely. "I think Thor will make a great King of Asgard one day. And Loki will, of course, make his own path within the Nine Realms, though many of us know little where it will lead him."
"You do not think Thor is ready to take the throne, nor Loki?"
You cannot tell if she asks a trick question, but you answer honestly, nonetheless. You are thankful there is no one else in the room to whisper that you may be practicing treason as you open your mouth.
"I think Thor carries compassion and kindness, wise leadership, all great qualities of a king, but his impulsiveness and temper rule him far more than probably anyone would like to admit. And Loki, though I know him even less, seems more suited to play many parts instead of just one." You release a breath and avoid her sight as you wonder where this conversation will lead your friendship with the Queen of the Eternal Realm. Though she is wise and kind, she is always like a snake ready to strike an enemy or someone who speaks treasonously. There has been much she has invested in the wellbeing of her family, including that of her own reputation and life. Queen Frigga is one of the key figures holding all of Asgard together.
"I think you are wise, if a bit cautious, in your estimate of my sons," she says as you lay the comb down and glance in the eyes of her mirrored reflection. "There will always be ways in which they can grow, but they both have their flaws. Do not let them know I said such a thing."
Your lips quirk into a small smile as your brush your hands down the sides of your simple gown, scuffed with marks of the day's labor and worries. The evening light fades, and the room grows quieter by each hour Frigga waits for news from her husband and the Ruler of Asgard. She relieves you of your duties and dismisses you as the constellations make their way into the night sky, and even your pleas are forgotten as the Queen of Asgard asks for time and space of her own.
You nod to the palace guards posted outside the Queen's doors and make your way down a branched hallway leading to an unpopular balcony seated on the far side of the castle. The night air brings a sense of familiarity but also unease. It brings back memories you have been trying to keep at bay all day, among the excitement of the coronation and the expansion of your duties.
He stands a foot away from you and glances from the corner of his eye as you laugh as he whispers under his breath. It seems to be another day where he suffered long in the presence of his older brother. You give no biased remarks and simply listen as he complains.
There have been many meetings like this of late, both of you together under the cover of night seeing each other only by light of the stars and the glimmer of the city below. But they are moments you will most likely cherish for years to come, whatever may come after this night. He does not smile much, but when he does it almost takes your breath away.
You sigh and look back out to the constellations, trying to make some out by tracing connecting lines with your index finger. You give up after some moments, your desire for something else quite evident.
He gives a rare smile and leans towards you, the space between you decreasing to as minimal as it could possibly be.
"There are times I wish circumstances were different," you breathe to him.
"Maybe in time they will be." He says to you in return, pressing his forehead against yours. You furrow your brows but brush of the remark. He may be mischievous and a smith of lies, but there is something in his tone that tells you what he is saying is more than a romantical idea. He is promising something to you as much as he is himself.
Loki has not been to your shared balcony under the light of the stars in many months. You know this because you return to the very same balcony every night, waiting for him to show or even whisper something to you as he hides in the shadows. Nothing comes, it remains silent, and the hope brimming in your heart becomes smaller every night your subject yourself to silence and spaces so quiet all you can hear are your own thoughts.
Loki has grown distant and cold in your relationship, and due to your position, you dare not seek him out lest you risk a wrath you are not prepared for. He has become more of a stranger to you than he was before the nightly meetings. And as you remember your clandestine moments with him as you spoke of the things you both said you spoke to no other, your heart grows heavy. And as you make your way to your own small room, the palace whispers of the exile of Thor and the fall of Odin to Odinsleep. The realm seems to wait on bated breath for what will come next.
A sense of foreboding sinks into your stomach like a rock, and you wonder if Loki has been as silver-tongued as people have claimed this entire time or if you were just as naïve as he wanted you to be.