Lower Your Eyes (A Loki Romance Fanfic)

Chapter Twelve: Curse My Dwindling Will

Thor traipsed across the field, sweaty and tired from the long day of training. While there was peace in the realms, the need for upkeep never ended among himself and his companions. Nor did the desire for it. He was perfectly content with their day-to-day routines, and all else seemed to be well in the palace—there was no need for the elder Prince of Asgard these days.

A glimpse of a shadow crossed his peripheral, and he turned in time to see a figure disappear around the corner of the long hallway to his right.

"Hello?"

There was no answer.

He followed the sound of feet pattering away, taking two long strides before he reached it. There, saw a figure strutting quickly down the hallway, and recognized it immediately—the brown waves flowing over her shoulder, the small frame... Yes, this wasn't even the first time he'd seen it—though this instance confirmed to him now that the passing shadow was not his imagination. From the edges of the arena to the topmost doorways on the highest levels, it jumped from view when his attention moved in its direction.

"Aila?" he called out to her, and the woman stopped, turning slowly. She kept her eyes on the ground as she schooled her features and bowed her head to him. "What are you doing here?"

She merely stared at the ground, her chest rising and falling steadily as thoughts openly zipped across her eyes. She hardly moved as Thor approached her, and he began sensing the distinct anxiety in her features as he nearer and nearer. He slowed a good distance away for her sake, furrowing a brow at the strange woman—his brother's slave.

He was among the many had no understanding of Loki's decision when he chose to employ her. It was equally strange when she was suddenly released from his service several months later and collected again for it just recently.

Constantly back and forth, those two were. And the entire palace talked about it—there had even been rumors of a servant interfering with their...arrangement.

"I..." She paused, her voice betraying a nervousness that her expression refused to show. "I apologize, my Prince."

Thor waited for an explanation. "What is there to apologize for?" he asked, watching as Aila's lips parted and closed again. "And... have I seen you here before, Aila?"

"I-I'm sorry?" Her brows flickered upward, but Aila's eyes remained on the ground.

"Please, you may look at me when you speak," he said, and the slave blinked surprisedly before looking up at him. Looking just as thoughtful staring up, as she was staring down at the ground. "You've nothing to fear from me. I said, I believe I've seen you here a number of times—am I mistaken?"

Discomfort stirred in Thor's chest as the woman studied him carefully, considering his words. "No, my Prince."

"—Thor."

She looked reluctant to repeat it. "Thor...you are not mistaken."

He tilted his head. "And why is that?"

"It's interesting to watch."

"Watch?"

"The fights," she said, casting her eyes to the side for a bit.

"I see. Does my brother know of this?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Professional curiosity, then?" Thor chuckled a bit. "Unusual interest for a-" he stopped before he could finish the thought, and Aila raised her brows a bit—a kindly expression remaining in her features. "Forgive me."

She shook her head. "What's there to forgive?"

True, what was there to forgive? For a moment, even he didn't quite understand the impulse to apologize. Several reasons came to mind, naturally, though perhaps it was far simpler than he guessed—perhaps it was simply the fact that Aila hadn't appeared before him as a slave. Rather, a woman. And perhaps this was why Loki had kept her nearby so vehemently these past few months. Perhaps this was why she seemed to shadow his every step, seemingly interrupting his thoughts and standing in the way of conversation amidst noblemen, with her presence alone.