Chapter Text
You let out a shaky breath as you look at yourself in the massive, gold-framed mirror. It’s probably over twelve feet tall, mounted on a wall inside your bedroom. There are reminders everywhere that you’re in the Asgardian royal palace. Intricate tapestries, gilded oil paintings, jewel-encrusted daggers... all on a scale unseen back home.
Your oversized bed is draped with gauzy, golden canopies that billow with the gentle breeze coming through several arched windows. The rich, emerald silk sheets and thick down comforter had beckoned you back to bed this morning. But you actually have stuff to do today.
Queen Frigga set you up in these chambers nearly three months ago. Four grand rooms: a bedroom fit for a King (with an en suite the size of your apartment in the Tower), an extensive library, and a room full of antique weapons and museum-worthy heirlooms. The mysterious fourth room, though, stays locked. And, sometimes, if you think you hear whispering coming from behind that door... well, that’s between you and whoever’s living in there.
Up until now, you thought the craziest thing that would ever happen to you was landing a job at Stark Industries as Tony’s apprentice. For the two years you’ve been working at the Tower, Tony and all his famous friends have become your secondary family.
Weekly dinners at Tony and Pepper’s penthouse, regular training sessions with Nat, pop culture lessons for Steve... you’re really homesick for all of them right now. Especially Tony, though you’re still thoroughly annoyed with him.
His last words still echo in your mind, “Try it out. It’s so cool.”
The long-range transport beam that you and Tony were developing may have worked for him the night before, but something went wrong when he sent you hurtling through the unknown.
Now, you’re in a palace, on another realm. You’re positive the transport beam’s range wasn’t supposed to be that long.
Just as you’re smoothing down your flowing, aqua dress, there’s a knock. Your airy skirt sweeps the floor as you enter the sitting room. But you hesitate until you hear another timid knock.
When you open the heavy wooden door, a frightened teenage girl is standing there with a tray of food.
“Good morning, my Lady,” she whispers, eyes round, startled. After rushing in, she sets the tray on a small table by the big window that overlooks the Allmother’s gardens.
You say, “Thank you, I-“ but she scurries out before you even have a chance to ask for her name.
In the short time you’ve been here, you’ve learned that Asgardians either hate you or fear you. Though, it’s mostly the former.
The Queen, though, is different. She’s understanding and kind and looks at you with tenderness instead of disgust.
She was more than generous to offer you this temporary post. You don’t know what made the Allmother decide to make you one of her Ladies-in-waiting, but you trust her because there’s always meaning behind everything she does.
You arrived on Asgard with nothing but denim cutoffs and the vintage Led Zeppelin shirt Tony got you for your last birthday. You killed the Allmother’s magical roses with your haphazard landing, yet she still had a smile on her face when you woke up in the infirmary afterwards. She was even the one to heal you.
According to Thor, Tony was still freaking about where you’d gone, when there was an alien invasion in New York. You have no memory of being trapped in a laser for any period of time. But Thor’s only guess is that the dark magic his dad used to transport him back to Asgard, somehow interfered with Tony’s transport beam, catching you on its way home.
It’s also the reason you can’t leave. Thor is deliberately very vague whenever you ask questions about the rainbow bridge’s destruction and the invasion. All you know is that Tony and your gang are all “well” and that the bridge is the only way to travel through the nine realms. And Thor’s dad didn’t think it was safe to use his black magic on a mortal. So you’re to be on Asgard, with no way to communicate with anyone, until the bridge is rebuilt.
Today’s your first day on the job. After two months of training, you’re ready to walk the halls with the Queen and her Ladies. You’ve met them already and most of them seem civil on the surface. But you’ve been subjected to looks of utter disdain from the great majority of Asgardians.
You can only hope they’re different, like Thor and his friends, who’ve coddled you since day one. You know you wouldn’t have survived this long without their protection.
As you’re making your way to the Queen’s chambers, you hear Thor bellowing your name. He’s just the cheerful person you wanted to see before your big first day.
“Hi, Thor!” You run over to him and have to jump up to hug him.
“How are you feeling this day, my Lady?” He asks, swinging you from side to side before letting you back down. You make an ugly face and slap his armored chest with the back of your hand.
“Ow,” you say, and Thor immediately takes your hand to inspect it for any damage. “Don’t call me that.”
He chuckles, deep and warm. “Well, you are officially a Lady now! Mother informed me of the good news.” Thor gives the back of your hand a couple of taps, deeming it uninjured.
The Allmother has been going out of her way to make you a comfortable life here. You don’t know why; you’re no one special.
“Your mom is so cool,” you tell him. “She’s the best Queen ever.”
“Indeed,” Thor chuckles warmly, “she is.”
When you and Thor turn the corner into the Queen's wing, the other Ladies are already gathered in front of her chamber doors, no doubt dreading the new addition to their little clique.
"Ladies," Thor greets them and they all curtsy.
"My Prince," the ladies all say in unison.
"If you will excuse me," Thor says to them as he pats your cheek lovingly, if a little hard. Now, in the presence of all these strangers who glow with near immortality and possess strength you could only dream of, you suddenly feel inadequate. They’re all tall and golden, perfect, like Thor.
He must see your confidence fading, because he gives you a great, big grin. "You will do fine, little one.”
"You really think so?"
"Yes, of course," he says, gathering you in the tight circle of his arms and squeezing, just to get an annoyed wheeze out of you. “You will be perfect. I shall see you for supper.”
After he sets you back down, you nod and whisper, "Thanks, Thor."
You watch him walk away, his heavy footsteps echoing off the marble floors. And when you turn back around to greet the other Ladies, half of them have their mouths open and the other half are glaring.
Before you have the chance to defend yourself, the Queen's doors open and she appears, gleaming ethereally in a beautiful light blue dress, delicate gold armor adorning her sides and right shoulder.
You join the Ladies in bowing your head as you were taught, "My Queen."
The Allmother calls your name, "We will be having a tea for you to get to know the rest of the Ladies. How does that sound?"
"Wonderful, My Queen," you say, beaming.
+++
“Two visits in one week?” Heimdall asks, voice low and steady, as if he hadn’t seen you walk an hour through the forest and struggle up all those stone steps. His back is to you as he looks out into the celestial sky. Since he can’t stand watch in his observatory, at the moment, he’s chosen this place- the top of Asgard’s ancient stronghold that hasn’t been used for centuries.
It’s peaceful and beautiful and all of Asgard can be seen from the fairy tale garden that’s taken over the rooftop. Glowing green ivy covers every column and archway. Magical flowers bloom and sparkle under the pleasant sun. And dozens of trees, bearing glittering red fruit, fill the air with the scent of apples.
It’s quite the trek for your mortal legs, but it’s always worth it.
“Hi, Heimdall,” you greet, and he must hear the frown in your voice because he turns around. The sword, hanging from his hip, clanks against his gold armor as he walks over to you.
“You have not come to inquire about the universe.”
You shake your head as you tilt your head up to meet Heimdall’s golden eyes. “No, just wanted to see you.”
The corner of his lip quirks up, “So, it has nothing to do with the tea?”
You cross your arms under your chest, but it pulls uncomfortably from how tight your dress fits. “It can’t be both?”
Heimdall chuckles, eyes studying you with the knowledge of all the nine realms. Since he knows so much, maybe he can tell you why everyone here hates you.
“You are not hated by all,” he says, cementing your suspicion that he can read minds. “There are at least seven people who do not hate you.”
You roll your eyes, “Gee, that’s reassuring.”
A little smile appears on Heimdall's face for a millisecond. "Would you like to tell me about it?"
"Two of the Ladies think I'm in love with Thor.”
"Ah," he says, as if he didn't already know.
"I'm not, if you were wondering."
"I am aware," Heimdall tells you. "Ala and Gerd?"
"How'd you know?"
He raises an eyebrow, "All of Asgard knows. They have been competing for the Prince’s affections for many years."
"Oh." Well, that explains the viciousness.
He cocks his head in thought, "Would you like a reason to smile?"
"Yes, please."
"If you visit the Queen's gardens, you will find two.”
You eye him suspiciously, "Trying to get rid of me?"
Heimdall’s lips quirk up. "Never, my Lady."
+++
As always, your favorite guardian was right. You visit the gardens everyday to check on the magical rose petals you replanted, more than two months ago. You were almost going to give up on them, but today, there are two tiny twigs.
Your name is gently called from one of the archways. You turn around and see the Queen walking in, thankfully, alone. Not many people are allowed in here, so it's usually just you.
“Hello, my Queen."
The Allmother smiles at you like you're something precious, "My, the roses are coming in beautifully."
You look down into your dirt patch with the two naked sprouts. They’re far from beautiful, but the Queen seems to find importance and value in everything.
You chuckle, "Thank you."
"You held yourself well at tea," she says, a mischievous smirk appearing on her face.
You’re suddenly sheepish. “Would you believe me if I said the teapot lid was already loose?”
There’s a knowing look in her eye when she asks, “Is that what you are saying?”
“No.”
She just laughs, gracefully, like you weren’t responsible for Ala’s lapful of strawberry tea and her screams that followed. In your defense, she called you a “peasant whore” who was “a disgrace to the royal family” when Thor’s mom left the room for a moment.
“It won’t happen again,” you promise.
"They are merely envious of you.”
"Of me?" You ask, incredulous. “In a realm of gods and warriors, I’m no one.”
The Allmother’s soft, blue eyes regard you, “My dear, you are very special.” She sees your disbelieving look and adds, “In fact, I know you are the only one who can help me with something.”
“Oh,"your mouth stays open for a moment. "Of course. Anything."
“This duty usually falls to me, but I find myself very busy," the Allmother says. "You see, the festival season is upon us and I must oversee the planning."
You nod, even though you aren’t sure what she’s asking.
“Do you agree?" She asks, but she didn’t actually tell you anything. Her twinkling eyes regard you, full of playfulness.
While thinking, you try to read her expression, wondering what you just missed. But she doesn’t give anything away, so you say, “Yes, my Queen."
"Very good," she says, delighted, and claps her hands together. "Follow me."
+++
The Queen’s chambers overlooks the entire realm and the celestial sky is best seen here, on her balcony. You can see the constellations and stars moving and shifting against the pitch black of outer space. It's easily the most amazing thing you've ever witnessed.
You walk inside, around the sitting room, and find fresh flowers in every corner and shelves upon shelves of books. In the center of one wall, there's an oil painting that you didn’t notice on the way in. It's of the Queen and King, when they were slightly younger, with two children. One is obviously Thor, with his blonde hair and goofy little smile. But the other, you didn’t know existed. You were under the impression that Thor was an only child. He, the God of TMI, never even mentioned having a brother.
But there he sits next to Thor, pale and raven-haired, very cute and very serious. And he has that same mischievous look and smile the Queen has sometimes. Maybe something happened to him and they, understandably, don't want to talk about him.
The Queen approaches you, then. "You will wear this,” she says, holding out a black hooded robe. "It will shield you from all eyes."
You perk up, "Like an invisibility cloak?"
"Yes, dear," the Allmother looks amused, "if you wish to call it that." But she turns serious, "It is of upmost importance that you keep this discreet. No one must know. Especially my husband."
"I- Tony, my boss, said that I'm not good at undercover work."
Actually, he said that you were shit at undercover work.
“I have faith in you,” she says with a smile.
And with that, she sends you off.
+++
You honestly don't know how the Queen roped you into this. Thor says that she's a volva, a seer, a magic-wielder, and you think she possibly spelled you into being more cooperative than usual.
Whatever the reason, you find yourself in the royal library because she told you to pick out a few books. You choose some small manuscripts about astronomy that have a lot of colorful paintings of galaxies and planets. It would’ve been an easier task if she told you who they were for.
You truly believe the Allmother would never put you in danger, but as you walk the dark, empty halls towards the dungeons, you have some doubts. The torches on the wall flicker and whisper as you pass. As you get further from the main halls, you spot Einherjar guarding every corner.
You're wearing the black cloak, hood and all, lugging a heavy basket across the entire palace, and they look right past you.
The massive dungeon doors are open and, when you reach the bottom of the stairs, several guards stand watch. You hold your breath as you pass them and enter a narrow tunnel that opens up to a dim stairwell.
As you descend the final flight of stone steps, a chill runs down your back. The dungeon is brightly lit, almost blinding, with rows of luminous, white cells. It’s chillingly silent.
Several beings, all of different physical appearances, fill each cell. Some are humanoid, while many aren’t, and you can’t help but think how ignorant you are as you try not to gawk. The Queen told you not to be afraid, but there aren't any doors or bars. It seems like they can just jump out and get you.
It’s a humiliating display. One final spectacle to strip them of their dignity.
At the very end of the long row, you know you've reached the correct one. As opposed to all the others, this box only has a single resident. Inside, there's a dark-haired man reclining on a settee with his hands laced behind his head. Unlike everyone else, he seems resigned, bored, maybe even a little relieved.
A tingle works its way all across your skin. You know he's the one from that old family portrait. He's the polar opposite of Thor. Pale, regal, beautiful. He turns his head to look at you and you stifle a gasp. He can't see you, though. Right?
He slowly sits up, his curly black hair falling to just above his shoulders. He's wearing a fitted emerald green tunic and close-fitting trousers, similar to what Thor casually wears to dinner. When your gaze trails back up, he’s looking directly at you with inquisitive ice blue eyes.
He stands up and walks closer to the invisible barrier to look down his perfectly straight nose at you.
As you take in a deep breath, you walk up the few steps surrounding the cell. The cloak and basket are enchanted, but you're still afraid to be electrocuted by the barrier. It’s been difficult for you to readily accept magic.
You slowly move through the invisible wall and sigh in relief. The man doesn't look surprised, though, as he steps aside to let you in. There’s a coffee table and a plush, velvet sofa. A settee in one corner and an impeccably made bed in the other.
After setting the basket on the floor, near the table, you push back your hood. "Hello," you say, in awe, gazing up. He's just as tall as Thor, imposing and alluring.
A little smile graces his handsome face, "Hello, darling." He looks down your cloak, "And who might you be?"
You tell him your name, but take a step back, a little uneasy under his stare.
"I have never made your acquaintance," he says, voice deep and mesmerizing, moving very close. "I would have remembered you."
"Your mom sent me," you say, avoiding his eyes. It feels like he can see into your soul.
"My m-" he closes his eyes and takes in an exasperated breath. "A mortal. Of course, she did. A just punishment, I am sure."
"For what?" You ask.
"As if you are unaware," he says, jaw clenched. "What did she offer you to leave your precious Midgard? All to teach me some kind of lesson?"
It seems like he's talking more to himself than you. "Who are you?"
"You mean to tell me you do not know," he sneers.
"Your mom didn't tell me anything," you say, a little proud of yourself for figuring it out. But now that you think about it, the Allmother likely planted that painting there so you’d see it. "She’s sneaky, though."
He chuckles, low and a little threatening, "Indeed, she is."
"Oh, I brought you some snacks and books," you say, crouching down and opening the lid to the basket.
You first hand him the books and he scoffs as he flips through them. "You think me a child?"
You roll your eyes. "To be fair, your mom didn't tell me I was browsing for you."
"That is no way to behave in front of a Prince," he says, yet he has the same amused look his mom sometimes has.
You snort, “I don’t care if you’re the King. I’ll behave however I want.”
He narrows his eyes, watching you walk over to the little couch beside the table and plop down onto it. "I thought you said you brought me ‘snacks.’"
"I did," you point to the basket.
He chuckles heartily. Well, you're glad you're entertaining. But why is a Prince in jail? He bends down and plucks one of the plums you'd chosen. He scrutinizes it like you’re not even qualified to choose produce.
"Will you tell me your name?"
He doesn’t even spare you a glance, “No."
"It's okay," you say, smirking, "I'll just ask Thor."
"It seems mother has sent me a little brat to deal with," he says, tossing the plum back into the basket.
You sputter, raising your hands up, "You're going to crush the cookies."
"Cookies?" He glares at you.
"God, you're annoying," you tell him, crossing your arms under your chest.
"And you are an insufferable, pathetic, little mortal," he says, taking two long strides towards you, blocking out most of the light as he leans over you.
“I've heard worse.” You shrug, “Asgardians are not nice. You all really hate me."
He looks a little surprised, the first genuine expression you've seen from him. "Well, I know how that feels."
"Why would they hate you? You're one of them.”
A wistful laugh spills from his lips, but you don't know what he finds so funny.
He crouches down and digs into the basket for the little box of cookies. They're your specialty and even tastier with Asgardian chocolate. Thor went through at least a hundred last night.
He haughtily pinches one between two fingers and inspects it like it's poison. His gaze never leaves you as he brings it to his lips and takes a bite. His eyes widen. You know they're good and if he says otherwise, he’d be lying.
As far as mystery jobs go, this one isn’t so bad. And you’re already done for the day, so you stand to leave. Maybe you can actually get some sleep tonight. If you’re lucky, you’ll be too exhausted to hear those voices, those little whispers.
He speaks then, "As reward for those cookies, I suppose I can tell you my name."
You bark out a laugh, "I'm not a dog. I don't need a reward from you." You put your hood back on, "Forget it. I'm just going to ask Thor. Unlike you, he'll give me your name for free."
You unload the contents of the basket on the coffee table because he's too hoity-toity to do it himself. You're one leg out the barrier when he gently grabs your arm. He’s surprisingly cold, even through all your layers. But he’s he one who sucks in a shocked breath as he quickly lets go.
"Loki," he says with an empty expression. You don't know him, but you know with certainty that he'd rather show a little weakness to you than let Thor win.
You beam at him and nod. "Bye, Loki. See you tomorrow."
His face scrunches up in displeasure, "You mean you will be returning?"
You laugh as he furrows his brow, adorably. "Sweet dreams, my Prince."