Imagine Book 2

Loyal to the Last- Loki (Avengers)

Fem Y/N

The golden halls of Asgard had never felt so cold to Y/N as they did today. Her fingers trembled as she polished the same spot on the grand dining table for the fifth time, her mind elsewhere – down in the dungeons, where she knew he was being held.

Loki was back.

The whispers had spread through the palace like wildfire. The failed conquest of Midgard, the destruction in New York, the defeat at the hands of Thor and his new companions. But worst of all was the news that made Y/N's heart clench: they had him muzzled like a common beast.

She remembered a different Loki. The prince who would materialize in the library late at night when she was cleaning, engaging her in conversations about literature that stretched until dawn. The man who conjured flowers from thin air to make her smile when she was having a difficult day. The god who looked at her not as a servant, but as an equal – something that had started as surprising, evolved into friendship, and blossomed into something more precious than either of them had dared to name.

As darkness fell and the palace settled into its nighttime routine, Y/N made her decision. The guard rotation schedules were something every maid knew by heart – not because they were supposed to, but because such knowledge was essential for stealing quiet moments to themselves during long work days. Tonight, that knowledge would serve a different purpose.

She waited until the midnight shift change, when there would be exactly seven minutes of overlap in the guard rotations. Her plain gray dress and unassuming presence were her greatest allies; servants were often invisible to those who didn't wish to see them. Y/N slipped through the shadows like a ghost, her soft-soled shoes silent against the marble floors.

The dungeons were accessed through a series of descending staircases, each one taking her deeper into the heart of the palace. The air grew cooler, the golden warmth of Asgard giving way to something more austere. Her heart pounded so loudly she feared it would give her away, but she pressed on.

The magical barriers that served as cell walls cast an eerie golden glow throughout the dungeon. Most prisoners paid her no mind – another benefit of wearing a servant's garb. But she felt Loki's eyes on her the moment she came into view of his cell. Even with the muzzle obscuring half his face, those eyes were unmistakable.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, still wearing his battle armor, though it was scuffed and damaged. His hands were bound in front of him, and the muzzle – that horrible thing – was secured tightly around his jaw. But it was his eyes that caught and held her. They widened slightly at the sight of her, and she saw something flicker in their depths that made her breath catch.

Y/N glanced around quickly before pressing her hand to the barrier. It was a simple matter to slip through – the guards never bothered to ward against servants, assuming none would dare enter the cells. Their oversight was her opportunity.

"My prince," she whispered, rushing to kneel before him. Her fingers were gentle as they found the catches of the muzzle, working them free with trembling hands. "I couldn't bear to think of you like this."

The muzzle came away, and Loki worked his jaw slowly, relief evident in his features. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse from disuse. "Y/N. Still loyal, even after everything you must have heard."

She reached up, cupping his face in her hands, her thumb brushing across his cheekbone. "I know you, Loki. Not the stories they tell, not the rumors they spread. You."

He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing briefly. "They would call you a fool."

"Then I am a fool." She smiled softly. "But I'm a fool who knows that nothing is ever as simple as it seems. Especially when it comes to you."