Clandestine {Loki Fanfic}

Two

"He was trying to get a read on me," Megan told Fandral when they were back in the safety of his kitchen.

"I thought so. He had a kind of strangled look on his face." He smiled, taking great pleasure in the tiniest of Loki's failings.

"I couldn't tell without looking at his face."

"So you can not read him like he can do to others?"

"Well I wondered. But he would know, I think. I know I have a bit of ability there, I wish I had developed it now."

"What am I thinking, then?"

"You're thinking about getting into the skirts of Volstagg's sister." She smirked, and then quickly blushed, realising she had way overstepped the mark. "Uh, sir. Forgive me, that was-"

"Exactly what I've been thinking. And I asked, it's ok."

"You're pretty easy to read, you're like a book for the vision impaired."

"A what?"

"One of those books for people who are vision... never mind. They have huge writing in them to make them easier to read."

"Oh." He chuckled.

"What shall I do tomorrow while you are gone? Is there anything you need? You'll be pleased to know I can perform all of the duties you listed for me."

"I do have a shirt that requires mending. But otherwise just take a day off. Explore if you like. In your clothing there should be a more detailed dress and shawl, you'll fit right in and no one will bother you."

"Consider it done, sir."

The following morning when Fandral left Megan had a leisurely breakfast before she dressed. The dress was a rich plum colour and felt like heavy silk on her skin. It was still fairly plain, but the luxurious fabric and square neckline made it quite different to her everyday wear. Megan threw the ivory shawl over her shoulders and slipped on her shoes, and left to explore the palace grounds, taking a small bag with a book Fandral had loaned her on Asgard's history.

Whilst she wandered she was approached by one of the Einherjar from the palace. "Your presence is required by the king, maiden. Follow me please,"

"Yes, of course." Megan stood and followed him through the gardens to the palace. The unfathomably high ceilings made her dizzy if she looked up, the ornate carved patterns on every wall made it impossible to forget where she was. She was led to a small room just down the hall from the throne room, the guard opening the door and gesturing her inside.

Megan momentarily forgot herself, looking around the room. It was elegantly decorated, too much for her taste but what she would expect for a king. She guessed this was like Loki's office, it had a dark, oppressive and menacing, the deep green heavy drapes looked as though they might just smother anyone who displeased them or their master, animating themselves from the window like a large ghoul. As her eyes scanned the room she spotted Loki sitting in a large chair at the other end, and her gaze met his for just a second before she realised he was real and alive. He was sitting so straight and still, regarding her with an unmoving curious gaze, the same way she assumed his blue eyes might look at a deer, if he were one to hunt for his own food. Megan immediately dropped to one knee, her head bowed. Far more formal than was required, particularly outside the formal rooms, but she had to make up for her disrespect.

"My King. Please allow me to apologise, I didn't realise you-"

"Stand. You may speak freely and raise your eyes in this room. In fact I insist upon it if you are speaking or being spoken to. Unless you are told otherwise. Now stand up."

Megan brought herself back to her feet and stood confidently in front of him while he looked her up and down. He motioned her forward and unfolded himself gracefully from the chair to examine her more closely, and Megan finally got the chance to subtly do the same. His leather and metal coat showed strips of vibrant green, like long green strips of parkland surrounded by industrial facilities. His scent, although still a couple of paces away, was distinct, the smooth scent of leather combining with another subtle spicy aroma.

Loki looked her over closely as he had felt compelled to do since the day before when he had first seen her. She was a little taller than most Midgardian women he had met, and the way she carried herself made her appear even taller. She walked with an ease, a confident and self - assured glide, that he had never seen in a servant. Her dark hair was not Fandral's usual choice, but Loki had to fist his hands to stop from running his hands through it, imagining how it would feel as it trailed through his fingers like strands of dark brown silk. Loki stared in to her eyes, they were bright and green and sparkling like emeralds. Looking beyond their stunning colour he tried to see her thoughts, to get a glimpse of what made her tick, something that might give away why she didn't quite fit in. Something that he could leverage, something he could exploit and make her crack.

But there was nothing. Megan held the calm in her mind, peaceful and still, and although she could just barely feel him probing her, his expression was that of someone exerting a great deal of mental effort. Megan kept her gaze on a point behind him but could feel his eyes burning in to her while his mind pushed like a child would tentatively poke a water balloon, wanting to feel without having it burst.

"Megan, isn't it?" He said in a low voice. Megan wasn't expecting him to speak and almost jumped out of her skin, toning it down to a mild tremor.

"Yes, my king."

"Megan you may speak freely here. As long as you are respectful you may drop the title." A smile touched his lips, but his eyes remained unchanged. It was unsettling. "I must confess you have made me a little curious. I knew Fandral had gone to Midgard for a new handmaiden, presumably word of his noncommittal philandering with his previous servants had spread so far that he was unable to find a willing victim in the entire realm. You are not his usual flavour, my dear. His type is normally fair and pliable, and you are most certainly neither of those things. Are you, Megan?"

Momentarily lost for words and voice, Megan cleared her throat and forced her eyes to look at Loki's. "Perhaps he wanted something different, someone who would be a handmaiden and nothing more."

"Perhaps. You are human, are you not? With human parents?"

Interesting question. They weren't frogs, if that's what you're thinking. "Yes. C-can I ask why you would ask?"

"Most people's minds are an open book to me, especially humans. Yours is... different. As though you are immune to my attempts." He put a hand to his chin and tilted his head to one side. He was overcome with a desire to figure her out, pull her to pieces like a wind-up music box and see her insides, see what happened if he were to put them back in a different order. He took her jaw forcefully in his vice-like grip and snapped her head upward, rearing himself up so he was looking down into her startled face. "If you are blocking me deliberately, it will not bode well for you!" He tried again, and Megan used all her energy to keep her expression frozen and her mind calm and still. With his glare burning in to her eyes it took every ounce of practice she'd had. Unsuccessful, he released her gently and returned to sit down on the chair.

"You may go back to whatever you were doing, Megan. Thank you for coming." He startled her with his calm, quiet voice.

Megan bowed her head and left the room, walking slowly back the way she had come, admiring the detail in the palace as she made her way back to the garden. For the rest of the day she was unable to concentrate on anything but Loki. The way he could turn so suddenly, like a giant being controlled by a lunatic and a gentleman inside his head, flicking switches and throwing levers at will. His icy blue eyes were burned in to her brain, the expression on his face as he regarded her with curiosity and wonder, and the cold glare that had penetrated her soul as he appeared to make himself physically taller than he was so that he could look down on her like he thought he deserved.