[CONTAINS SMUT] ❗️18+❗️
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Y/n was no more than a maid. Not for a wealthy family but rather The Royal Family. her status was low, she was only ever in the kitchens or avoiding the royals to clean the palace at whatever ungodly hour she was needed.
...
"I must warn you, I'm not the most elegant dancer," bows of respect were taken as Loki placed his hand on your waist.
"My leading will ease the effort,"
He wasn't wrong. Despite never waltzing properly it came easy with you after a few missteps.
The dress dragged across the ground as your clutched hands held onto a peak of it. Music twisted around each pair, each couple, with endless harmony and overtaking conversation that would be private.
"You don't look too bad with a mask on, ever considered replacing your reindeer antlers with it?"
"Is that what they look like to you?" Loki scoffs.
"Would you rather me call you a bilgesnipe?" He dipped you with a playful glare.
"And what of my attire? Something to say about it too?"
"A lot, but mainly compliments on how handsome you look," moving back and lifting your hand, you both circle each other as couples did.
"Handsome? Nothing more?"
"Don't push your luck," flushing back against him, he smiles down at you. "What?"
"Can't I stare at the most beautiful maiden in the room?"
"And I'm that?" Your voice was quiet and hopeful.
"More than," He spun you around before tugging you back into his arms. "Since that day I met you, you have never once left my thoughts,"
"Never?"
"No, Y/n, you have become my muse, the very hope I hold lies with seeing you along the halls or in the library,"
"Why? Why are you saying all this?" Tempo picked up as your nerves struck, sticking up on high alert for hints that this may be a jest.
"Because I wish to court you," the last violin note struck and the dance ended.
"What?"
Loki took your hand and led you away before the next dance could start. "If you do not wish to, then decline, but I cannot go any longer denying my feelings nor keeping them from you,"
"I'm a maid, Loki, what would your mother think? What would the Allfather think??"
"You forget your promotion, you have reached the highest position possible for someone like you,"
"Exactly, someonelikeme, Loki, listen, courting me will be your downfall, I do not wish for you to suffer in status because you've grown a slight fondness for me,"
Before you could leave he took your hand again, this time away from the prying ears of snobby Asgardians.
"Slight fondness? Y/n, you're my muse," this time you both stood on the steps on looking the garden.
"And a muse does not keep long, it is for temporary-"
"Then let me be yours, let me hold you, kiss you, take care of you, spoil you in riches no other can do... I would give anything for a chance to prove that this can work, I will fight for this to work,"
You let them fall, the tears merging against the mask you wore, your heels clicking down the steps. "Why me? W-why would you say all this to me??"
"Because you are the most brilliant, quick tongued, gorgeous woman I have ever been graced to meet," Leaving his side to a wooden bench surrounded roses, a sigh of confusion leaves you. "Will you?... Grant me the honour of courting you?"
Left to you. The decision which would not only sway your life for better or for worse... but Loki's as well.
Your heart yearned, ached for you to say yes, it's pounding fist pleading to jump out to embrace the god. Claim him as he wishes to claim you.
"Yes... Yes, I would be honoured to court you,"
Loki looked alive, happier than you had ever seen him. A flurry of actions, he lifted you into his embrace, letting your feet lift off the ground. "You will not regret this, Y/n, thank you," he kisses your temple before hugging you again.
"But I request one thing..."
"Anything, darling,"
"We must keep this secret, I do not wish for the Allfather's disapproval if this does not work out in the end,"
"How else am I to convince you that this will work?" Smirking at your shrug, Loki lifts your chin, locking his lips with yours. Moving your hands up to his cheek, you pulled him closer. "Does that convince you?"
"Uhm... I think I'll need a few more to be sure," you stutter out. The mask fell into his grasp, his fingers pulling against the silk ribbon. His own cover being lifted to finally show his hidden features.
Glittered specks dusted on his iris' the moonlight causing a soft glow. Pale skin, shaded with pink like gouache on canvas.
That's what he was. A work of art, allowed only for a few to gaze upon. Locked up archives from Van Gogh's last days, or Da Vinci's lost journal. Those seemed worthless compared to him.
And now he was yours, you were his. From this point on the only way to go was... down.
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