You've heard the original story of Beauty and the Beast. Now, it is your turn. Nobody ever batted an eye at the Asgardian castle. Nobody ever thought of who lived in it, why it was built, who used to live in it, or even question why they didn't ques...
A/n: Hello everybody! Today is June 28, 2021. I've been camping in Oregon for about a week and a half, and haven't had the chance to write, so now that I'm alone in a coffee shop, I finally can! I missed you guys so much- even though because this book is all coming out at one time, you didn't miss me. Love y'all!
Warning: Plague and some description of death <33
Y/n approaches Loki, who is sitting in the middle of a beautiful, spiraling rose garden. He looks up at her from over his book. "What are you reading?"
"Nothing," he says, quickly closing it as if hiding something. He attempts to shove it under his leg, but Y/n is too quick for him, glancing at the title.
"Guinevere and Lancelot," she laughs in surprise.
"Well, actually, it's King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. Knights, and men, and swords...and things," he trails off awkwardly, eyes flickering up to her amused gaze.
"But still...it's a romance," Y/n says with a smirk.
Loki nods, embarassed. "Alright, fine. I wanted a change."
A pause passes between them as Y/n sits down next to him. "You know, I never thanked you for saving my life," she says, avoiding his eyes and focusing on the roses beside her.
"Well I never thanked you for...not leaving me to be eaten by wolves," Loki says, with a hint of humor in his tone. Y/n smiles down at her hands, which and fiddling with each other on her draped lap. A comfortable silence blankets them, and either one of them resist the urge to lean on the other. Laughter and chatter drifts from the castle windows, the objects clearly enjoying the bright day.
"They know how to have a good time," Y/n finally comments.
"Yes. But when I enter the room, the laughter dies," Loki mutters forlornly.
She thinks nothing of it, instead finding comfort in their shared experiences. "Me too. The villagers say that I'm a 'funny girl', but they don't mean it as a compliment."
"I'm sorry. Your village sounds terrible," Loki admits, glancing at her side profile.
"Almost as lonely as your castle," Y/n says, meeting his gaze.
A melancholy smile spreads over his face, then lights up in an idea. "What do you say we run away?"
She stares at him in disbelief. "What?"
"Here: follow me," Loki says, standing up swiftly and offering his steely blue hand out to her. Y/n glances down at it, then back up to his ruby eyes, which are watching her carefully. Apprehensively, she takes it, ignoring the cold, rather enjoying it.
He leads her through the castle and up to his chambers, much to her surprise. They approach a large cabinet and Y/n frowns a little at the absence of his hand as he unlocks it, pulling out a velvet, gold-leafed book, slightly glimmering with the haze of magic. "Another little 'gift' from the Enchantress." He cracks the book open to reveal an antique atlas. No countries or borders, just land and sea. "A book that truly allows you to escape."
Y/n inches closer to find the drawn waves are actually moving, bobbing on the parchment. "How amazing," she breathes.
"It was her cruelest trick of all," Loki says, anger as well as guilt settling on his face. "The outside world has no place for a creature like me. But it can for you." He offerrs his hand and Y/n takes it without any hesitation. He places it on the book, sprawling hers over the pages and his on hers. It's beautiful for both of them to look down on. Yellowed parchment pages, with a sweet s/c hand placed on the moving landscape, and a large, slender blue one cradling her own.
"Think of the first place you've most wanted to see. First, see it in your mind's eye. Now feel it in your heart," he explains quietly. She nods, not having to think too hard about where she wishes to go. As she feels it in her heart, the ground below them seems to lurch, hurtling them through time and space, mutli-colored blurs flying past them as lightspeed. They seem to be sent sailing over the tops of a dark city, some lights illuminating stacks of bodies piled high on the streets. They hurtle through a window, their balance never shifting until their feet are planted on rotten wood of a windmill.
Loki looks around. "Where did you take us?"
Y/n pauses, looking around. "Paris."
"Ah! Paris is one of the few Midgardian places I can bear. What would you like to see first? Notre Dame? The Champselyses? No? To touristy?" Loki asks, his voice growing quiter as tears fill Y/n's eyes.
"It's so much smaller than I imagined." Loki looks at her, confused. "My father is Asgardian, but my mother was Midgardian. As a tinker, he wished to visit Midgard to learn their trades and tricks. Instead, he fell in love and had a child. Me."
Y/n notices something tucked into a decaying cradle, her delicate fingers reaching in to grab it and pull it out. It's a small rattle, hand-carved to resemble a rose. "What happened to your mother?" Loki asks slowly.
"That's the only story Papa could never bring himself to tell. And I knew better than to ask...I have no memory of this place, only stories that papa would tell me of my infancy here. I only remember growing up in Asgard," Y/n explains.
As she speaks, Loki notices something resting on the chair in front of the crib. A bird-beaked black mask, the painted leather peeling. "Plague," he says.
Y/n looks around rapidly, finally understanding what happend. She was here for the first few years of her life until her mother fell ill, as Midgardians are easily susceptible of disease, Papa and her immune, although others wouldn't know, as they must have been sent away by her mother and the doctor that was in here. Y/n was too young to remember any of this, easily forgetting the trauma that her father carries with her.
"I'm sorry I ever called your father a thief," Loki apologizes quietly. Y/n lifts her head to look at him, no words coming out but her glistening eyes giving a thousand acceptances.
"Let's go home," she whispers.
Loki nods, wrapping his arms around her as his heart pounds against his chest for the first time in years at her closeness and her calling the castle, which was previously her prison, her home.
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A H
ALSO IM LISTENING TO THE TOM HIDDLESTON HIGHRISE AUDIOBOOK AND HOLY CRAP IM SCARED BUT ALSO SOOTHED AND HORNY BUT MORE SCARED
WHY DOES TOM HAVE TO GRAVITATE TOWARDS THE ROLES WITH INCEST
W H Y
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