Tom Hiddleston and Loki Imagines - Bk. 1

Loki - Stay?

        You took a deep breath before entering the cell.  By the grace of Odin, you were working in the palace.  Your family was poor, and having a palace job would certainly help keep you all off the streets.  Plus, working beyond the golden walls had its perks: you got to hear about the news before it was spread to the common people, you got to see warriors train firsthand, you got clothes that didn't have holes in them and were sewn with golden thread, and you got to be around the most noble and promient people in the whole realm. And you were only just a servant!

        But, like any other job, you had to start at rock bottom and work your way up.  To Odin, this meant you had to clean Loki's cell, where he rotted in the dungeon. You'd heard of his chaos--everyone had--but when you walked up to the cell, you couldn't see how this one person, who was reading  could be the most feared person in all of Asgard.

        Maybe I'm at the wrong cell.

        You then looked around the dungeon, and all you saw were criminals locked away in packs.  You look back at the cell in front of you, and not only was he alone, but he was in a much bigger cell, one that was even furnished.  You sighed.  There was no doubt in your mind that this, indeed, was Loki of Asgard, God of Mishief, the Forgotten Prince.

        Okay, here we go.

        You unlock the cell the way you were trained and enter the cell.  Loki looks up at you, and you lock yourself in with him.

        "Hmm, I imagined you to be prettier," he remarks before turning back to his book.

        "I'm just here to clean," you snap back.  It hadn't even been five seconds and he already was degrading you.  Worse, he was only heightening your insecurities.

        "And a bit quieter," Loki adds, truning the page.

        You bite your tongue as you wipe off the various objects.  After an hour, you survey the room, and it's to your perfectionist liking.  You turn to the prince.

        "Is there anything else I can do?"

        "Yes," he says, closing his book and tossing it behind nonchalantly.  "What is your name again?"

        "(Y/N)."

        "Well (Y/N), you may hand me another book from that pile over there."

        You look, and the pile is across the rom, yet two steps away from where Loki is currently sitting.  Biting your tongue, you hand him another book.  He senses your irritation and smiles.

        "I would've done it myself, but that's why you're here."

        You exit, not even wanting to dignify his statement with a facial expression.

        Every day, he mocks you, makes you do the most trivial of tasks.  And he would make your job miserable.  He would put up duplicates of his tables everywhere and make you go to each one to see where the real one was.  He would throw his books everywhere even after you had neartly placed them against the wall.  He even made it look like there were stains on the wall, and you scrubbed until your hands were too sore, and then he made them vanish away.  You had to restrain yourself from strangling him right then and there.  But you never said anything back to him.  You never gave him the satisfaction. The only thing you would ask when you assumed you were done was, "Is there anything else I can do?"  When Loki was done playing his tricks, he would dismiss you, he smiling wickedly but still malcontented.

        But then the unthinkable happened. The Dark Elves came to the castle, there was a breech in security in the dungeons, and even worse, the Queen had ben martyred.  You were given that fateful day off as well as the day after, but even on the third day, things were still in shambles.

        "Leave me!" you can hear Loki scream as a guard offers a meal.

        "He's been like this for the past few days," another guards warns you.  "Leave if you feel threatened or endangerd, and If he hurts you, call out for help."

        You nod, mentally prepare yourself, then walk into the destroyed cell.  A broken Loki, sitting on the ground against the wall, looks over to you, and you're almost certain that he is going to have a fit like he did before, but he doesn't say anything.  He just watches you as you clean up the mess he had made.  In the time it takes you to clean, Loki could've played three of his mischievous tricks on you, but you know good and well that this destruction wasn't meant to hurt you.

        When you are finished, you turn to him as usual.  He's looking at the ground in front of him, he lost in his own thoughts.

        "Is there anything else I can do?"

        He looks up at you but he says nothing and shakes his head. You start to leave, but the pain that he looked at you with, those heartbroken eyes, once mischievous, haunted you.  You turn back to him, and even he looks surprised by your actions.

        "No. There must be more I can help with."

        You look down, and you notice that his foot is still bleeding.  You dip your spare washcloth in his cup of water, located on the table, and clean off the blood.  Afterwards, you tear off some of the bottom of your dress to use as a bandage.  You can feel his eyes on you as you wrap up his foot.

        "There," you attempt to comfort.  "Not much, but it will hold for a while."

        You clean the ground again, and before you go to leave again, you hear a whisper.

        "(Y/N)?"  You turn back around, and your eyes meet Loki's.  "Stay?"

        You go back over to him, and you sit next to him against the wall.  He leans his head against your chest.  After a moment, you instinctively pet his head, further calming him.

        "I was wrong."  You look down, surprised that he was not only admiting an error, but also that he was trying to stir up a conversation with you.

        "Wrong about what?"

        "You're more beautiful than I imagined you to be."