Loki X Reader One Shots || 𝐹𝐿𝑈𝐹𝐹 + 𝑆𝑀𝑈𝑇

Girl With The Gold Earring (Part 2)

As well as the unexplainable desire to protect Loki's privacy, Y/N also vowed to herself that she would try her best to repay him for his trust. Loki had---for some reason---decided to open up his rooms, his private space, to Y/N. He'd---Gods know why---boosted her to one of the highest ranks a servant could have, jump-started her career---skipped her past twenty years of labour; at least.

So she would repay him by tidying as she'd never tidied before.

Literally. She hadn't forgotten Alfdis' warning that everything Y/N moves during the cleaning process is to be placed straight back in the exact position it had been found. Y/N wasn't quite sure whether the housekeeper had meant that literally, but---due to Y/N's recent promise of thanking Loki's generosity in the form of service---she decided to take it that way.

She'd worked out a system. Using what was available to her---her fingers already marked into thirds by the creases in her skin, the distance between her ankle and calf, etcetera---Y/N found that she could measure the space between objects and the objects adjacent to them.

The left armrest of the loveseat is one calf's length away from the mirror, for example. And there is a hand-and-a-half length gap between the dresser and the rug.

This method worked so well, in fact, that you couldn't really tell anyone had been in to clean anything at all. Each day Y/N left the rooms as if she'd never entered, apart from surfaces appearing shinier, and windows freshly polished. Y/N was thankful for the list of tasks she was not required to do (the parchment and ink matched that on the desk, so she could only reach the conclusion that the prince himself had written that list) because although her cleaning method is effective, it does double the time it takes to do even simple things like sweeping under rugs, or wiping countertops.

Loki seems to be a tidy man by nature, so because of that and the list, all Y/N has to do is---besides the obvious dusting and scrubbing---switch things about a bit.

His bed was always made, so she merely had to change the sheets for an identical set.

His pyjamas would be folded, so she'd swap them with a fresh pair, making sure to bend the material in the exact same way Loki had done, spread tassels and angle ties exactly as they had been.

The notes on his desk seemed to be in a fairly logical order, so Y/N lifted them, rubbed a rag over the hard-wood surface below, then placed them back exactly as they were rather than stacking them or filing them away.

Sometimes she felt silly for doing this. Once she'd been standing on one leg, propping up an ottoman that cost more than her family's house with her foot, as she dusted under it with the broom she had clutched in one hand. She was holding a book---with its spine perpendicular to the wall---in the other, and nearly toppled over three times.

But, as she let the ottoman fall back onto the now-spotless floor, and placed the book exactly as the prince had left it, she felt a little swell of what could only be pride bloom like a shy flower in her chest.

Even if Loki wasn't that particular about coming back to his rooms to find the tips of a quill on the desk facing the door rather than the bed, Y/N would continue to try to leave as little trace to her meddlings as possible. She owed that to him, she felt, for rescuing her from the cold front-steps, from early mornings that began before the sun was even up. His chambers are always warm, and the work is relatively easy. Yes, it's a little lonely, day after day toiling her way from one room to the next without so much as the sound of another human breath, but Y/N found ways of coping.

One of them is by looking at Loki's belongings as she cleaned them, feeling the weight and texture of quality items she'd never come across. Like the telescope propped up on three spindly legs by the lounge window. She didn't know it was a telescope; commoners have never laid eyes on such a thing, but she liked the way its long, barrel-shaped body reflected her face back in a warped, amusing way. And the dials were delicate under her fingers as she carefully ran a cloth into their grooves and over their screws. Cleaning, or just being near such an item, brought a strange sense of satisfaction.