Chapter Text
“Y/N!” comes the grating voice of your supervisor, Hackett. You cringe before turning back to him.
“Yes sir?”
“Where’s Dagmar?” he demands.
“She’s sick, sir. Couldn’t get out of bed this morning.”
He groans. “Of course. We need someone to bring tea up to the library.”
You do your best to hide your surprise. Ever since you had rejected Hackett’s son, Bjorn, he had been especially unkind. You had been stuck in the kitchens with Keld for months, washing dishes long into the night. Not that you minded Keld; he was actually one of the better things about your job as a palace servant. He was old and kind, always making sure you had enough to eat when Hackett withheld your wages. Anyway, to have Hackett allow you into the main palace, even unwillingly, sent a thrill of excitement up your spine. You wonder what had happened to change his mind.
“Are you listening to me, girl?” You jerk yourself back to the present. Now was not a time for daydreaming. “I said, one of the princes ordered tea, and it needs to be sent up right away.” Ah, so that was why. One of the arrogant nobles.
“Naturally you can imagine my reluctance to send you, but it can’t be helped. So remember. You are not to make eye contact, you must show the utmost respect, and above all, you need to hold your tongue.” He jabs a finger in your face, and it takes all of your willpower not to yell at him that you have to every time he opens his mouth. You don’t need to waste this chance. You nod quietly and he scoffs, apparently annoyed to have not gotten a rise out of you.
“Here,” he says, shoving a tray of tea and pastries into your hands. “And you’d best be back in half an hour, or I’ll consider it slacking on the job!” he shouts after you as you quickly make your way out of the room.
Once you’re in the palace proper you allow your steps to slow, taking in the beautiful architecture around you. Your room was right by the kitchens, and you didn’t really have much free time other than to buy basic necessities from the nearby market. You’re a bit sad when you reach the library doors, knowing you’ll have to go straight back downstairs. Still, you can’t help but take a moment to admire the gigantic room.
It’s filled to the brim with books, with large stained glass windows open to let in the cool spring air. You close your eyes and breathe in the heavenly smell of paper. You can hear the rustling of pages from the few people taking advantage of the massive library, and wonder why more people don’t come in. Although if they did, it probably wouldn’t be nearly as quiet and calming.
“Excuse me,” comes a voice from behind you, startling you out of your thoughts. You whirl, accidentally letting go of the tray of refreshments, sending it crashing to the ground. You stare up into a pair of stunning emerald eyes, momentarily forgetting what you’re doing before you feel hot liquid seeping into your thin slippers. You drop to the ground, hurrying to pick up the spilled items while the man simply stares down at you.
“Oh no, don’t trouble yourself on my account, it’s not like one of the spoiled palace brats is going to come around the corner and see me kneeling in his spilled tea like some kind of clumsy troll,” you mumble under your breath.
The man raises his eyebrows. “You mean to tell me you don’t know who I am?”
“Of course not, why should? I’ve never seen you before.” Okay, that’s probably not true, he does look vaguely familiar. But definitely not familiar enough to remember their name or anything.
“You might want to reconsider who you talk to about spoiled palace brats.” You stand back up and your eyes widen as the pieces click. Raven black hair. Regal posture. Those blasted green eyes. It seems you have broken just about every rule Hackett had given you. Oh, he was going to kill you.
You drop into a deep curtsy. “I apologize, your highness, I didn’t mean-”
“To call me a stuck up brat?”
“Hold on, I never said-” you cut yourself off as you back up at his face to see him smirking slightly. He’s teasing you; why would you expect anything else? You take a deep breath as you remember Hackett’s words. “I’m sorry, your highness, I promise it won’t happen again.”
You reach back down to pick up the dishes, but with a flick of the prince’s wrist they’re all back in place, even the spilled drinks. The tray jumps up to his hand, and he offers it to you, the smirk still playing on his lips. “Your tea, m’lady?”
You snatch it back into your arms, your cheeks flaming. “I believe you called for it, actually.” Drat, you’ve done it again. What is it about this man that makes you forget all your rules?
“Yes,” he affirms, stepping back. His voice has gone back to regal prince, but you can still see the amusement in his eyes. Look down! you scold yourself.
“Where would you like me to put it?”
“Just on that table would be fine.” He points, and you quickly make your way over.
“Will that be all, your highness?” Please, please say yes, you beg in your mind.
“No, there is something you can do for me.”
You fight your frustration and nod. Why couldn’t he just let you be? You’d even listen to Bjorn talk for an hour over this. At least then you knew what to expect. This prince was entirely new territory. “Yes, your highness?”
“Tell me your name.”
Case in point. He just couldn’t seem to let you get a read on him. “Y/N,” you say, startled.
“Y/N,” he repeats, testing the word on his lips. “Alright, you’re dismissed.”
You nod, turning to leave the room.
“Y/N,” he calls after you, forcing you to look back. “One more thing.”
“Yes, your highness?” you repeat.
“Call me Loki.”
Your eyes dart back up to his for a moment in surprise. “Yes, Prince Loki,” you correct yourself. You’re not about to drop his title, not when you’re on such thin ice already. He shrugs and waves a hand to release you again. You hurry to escape before he can say anything else.
⁓⁓⁓
Loki smiled to himself as he watched the girl rush out the doors. It wasn’t just anyone who would insult Thor, even if they were technically also insulting him. He was used to that, though never so bluntly. It also wasn’t every day someone responded so little to his teasing. And when it did, well. He took that as a challenge. As he sat back down and resumed reading his book, he resolved that he would have to find a way to see this mysterious new maid more often.