Lower Your Eyes (A Loki Romance Fanfic)

Chapter Four: Never Before, Never Again

I shadowed the Prince in the weeks that followed. Always nearby, and ever silent. I could probably stitch him a new pair of boots, with how well I'd come to know the designs of the several pairs he rotated through. All the tension from his moment of kindness had faded over the past few weeks and thinking back to it no longer affected me. Though obviously, there was, and would always be a part of me that remembered his seidr vividly. The warmth, the intimacy... it was only difficult to look at him for the week that followed that incident. The excitement faded shortly after, and everything went back to normal.

As normal as could be, anyway... I certainly wasn't used to averting all my energy and attention to one person, as I did to him. Though the work was never particularly arduous, and I often went back to the catacombs without feeling terribly tired. Only Davos seemed to notice the change—he always did keep a close, affectionate eye on me.

Granted, over the years, I'd become quite protective of him as well—naturally, I don't think I would have grown so close to him in more intimate ways if there was never a scintilla of romantic affection.

The catacombs were generally quiet when I returned at night. Though they came second to the library, which was undoubtedly the most peaceful place in the palace. The Prince seemed to favor it most, and so did I—particularly on sunny days, when natural light was abundant for his reading.

To keep me occupied, Loki often instructed me to go about sorting other books that had been left behind—or perhaps finding others that might be relevant to whatever it was he was perusing.

This week, the subject was forest beasts. Mountain wisps, to be specific—or so the tome read. It was all part of some project that Queen Frigga had recently embarked on, for the purpose of discovering some cure to an ailment that had befallen a few of the nine realms...though the wisps' relevance to the matter was beyond me. They were beautiful creatures, but reclusive and gentle. It made me nervous to think that anyone in the palace would venture to capture one.

It almost felt personal.

Apart from my use of the seidr, the second greatest secret that I would fall to the grave with, were the forest excursions with my mother. Also, late at night. when wisps were easily found (one single factoid that the tomes guessed correctly). She was much more gifted with other forms of magic than I was, so it was easy to escape, though we never dared to venture further into the menacing mountains of Asgard. There, we would be defenseless against the terrors of our realm...

I brushed the dust off one of the tomes and rose to my toes to put it back up on the shelf...nearly stumbling over in place when my stomach growled loudly. I froze mid-movement—hovering the book just above my head—and glanced at the Prince over my shoulder.

A pile of books lay on the stool beside him, while he himself sat contentedly facing the sunlight, one leg kicked over the other. I let out a quiet sigh when he made no acknowledgement of the sound, simply continuing with the complex language of the foreign tome.

There were two more books on the small stretch of desk that ran along the base of the tall shelves. My stomach gave it another go the moment I picked them up, and I scurried around the corner to not disturb the man—in case my stomach continued to decide that I was purposefully withholding food.

"Aila." I heard my name and frowned anxiously. Dropping my eyes to the ground, I set the books down and returned to the row where Loki sat. In my downward vision, I could see him sitting motionlessly, turning the page as he continued staring at the book. "Fetch my lunch and bring it to my chambers."

"Yes, my Prince," I murmured lowly and turned to leave.

"—and eat it."

I stopped, and white-hot nervousness slowly seeped into my chest. At face value, it may have seemed like another kindness, but if anyone—anyone—knew that I'd tasted the Prince's food, my clothes would be soaked with blood. He hadn't expressed any interest in extending his protection, and what happened to a slave after their working hours was none of their employer's concern.