#but he is ever the diligent warrior once assigned to his post of protecting him

[kimjunnoodle]

a prince pretending to be a squire so he can spend more time with his favorite knight without being seen as indecent. Eating with them in the mess hall and disappearing during the day for "special training" (princely duties) but making sure that he gets to greet his knight after his sparing so he can peek at his toned body while he helps him out of his armor.

after a while the knight realizes it's the prince in disguise but goes along with it, teasing his "squire" more and more until one day the court of advisors assigns the knight to the Prince's personal guard since they seem to get along so well. The prince is so on edge all of the time, having spent so much time as his knight's 'squire', that he is flustered in his presence when he is in his true royal garb and he can't bear to speak to him, in fear that he will give himself away. hear me out

[villainousshakespeare]

For the Price of a Book:  An (eventually) smutty Loki Fairy Tale: Chapter 2

Summary: In the days before the events of Thor I, Loki inadvertently comes upon a female servant being punished by a pair of guards. Her crime? Stealing a book from the rooms she was tasked to clean. Curiosity captured, he decides to break through the shy exterior by any means necessary.

Work in progress, multiple chapters

Pairing: Loki/OFC

Warnings/tags: Some allusions to attempted/prevented rape in the beginning. (not by Loki) Eventual Romance, Angst, Sex, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Pre-Thor (2011)Master/Servant, Loki (Marvel) Has Issues, Dom Loki (Marvel), Feels, Romance, Loki (Marvel) Angst

AO3: Chapter 1, Chapter 2

What had he been thinking? Part of his household? At this point Loki’s household consisted solely of his secretary Unger who had begun as tutor to him and Thor when they were in their boyhood. Other than that, he was perfectly content to have the palace steward send someone up once a week to clean and collect his clothes to be laundered. He was by nature fastidious and kept his own things tidy out of habit. More than that, the thought of someone hovering in his space, necessarily aware of all of his comings and goings, appalled the secretive, solitary prince.

Still, he supposed increasing the size of his staff might help add to his consequence in the eyes of the palace functionaries. Thor, and even his cronies, all had armies of menials buzzing around them, impressing the weak minded. The guards this afternoon were the perfect example, dismissing him while they fell all over themselves for his idiot brother and his smarmy friend. The disrespect made Loki’s blood boil. He had taken great pleasure in pulling them aside and warning them in explicit terms exactly what would happen to them should they be so foolish as to harm the girl, who now belonged to him, as they escorted her to his rooms. The way their faces blanched and hands began to tremble filled him with satisfaction.

With a sigh he trudged up the stairs towards his chambers. It would not be wise to leave her there unattended for too long. After all, all he knew of her was that she was a thief. A thief who had risked a great deal for a single volume fiction. It was that detail that Loki could not seem to get out of his mind. What type of menial tried to run away with stolen children’s stories? To his knowledge most of them couldn’t even read. If she was planning on selling it, surely there were many more valuable items in Fandrall’s quarters that she might have nabbed. It intrigued him, and Loki could never ignore a puzzle in need of solving. 

Arriving at his rooms on the top floor of a tower, Loki silently opened the door, unsure whether he expected to catch the girl in some nefarious act or sobbing in a corner. As it turned out, she was doing neither. When he slipped into his empty living room, he was at first dumbfounded at her absence, then momentarily infuriated that she might have barged her way uninvited into one of his inner chambers. As he began to gather his wrath, however, he spied the movement out on his balcony through the half open glass door.

It appeared his little servant was taking her new post seriously, and was already diligently tidying the mess Loki had made  in his fit of anger when his spell had been interrupted. While he watched with a small smile she righted the upended table, using a discarded napkin to wipe up the spilled wine pooling on the floor beside it. 

She really was a pretty thing, not at all what one would expect from a palace drudge. He didn’t think he had ever seen her before, he mused. She must be new to the never ending pool of laborers a place of this size perforce employed. Leave it to Fandrall to sniff her out so quickly in his ceaseless endeavor to bed every comely maid in Asgard. He wondered if the blond lord had had her yet. If he had sampled her, it made his disregard in the garden even more contemptible.

Loki realized his hands were clenched into fists and forced himself to relax them. It was nothing to him if the vapid warrior wanted to use and abandon his servants. He would hardly be the first noble to do so. Loki had lost count of the number of nubile girls he had seen float from Fandrall’s employ to Thor’s to Hogun’s, all with a smile on their dainty faces, all seemingly happy to trade working with a mop and broom to working on their backs for the elite of Asgard’s gentlemen. Why should this one be any different?

Except she was. Loki had no idea why he was so certain of the fact, but he realized he would bet his life on it. Maybe it was the fact that she had appealed to him for aid, that even when Thor and Fandrall had arrived on the scene she had not batted her distractingly long eyelashes at them and simpered for their assistance. Norns, he thought with self loathing, had it come to this? Was he so desperate for recognition that he would leap at the chance that a pretty maid, in the process of being ravished by two men, seized upon him for help? Was he truly that pathetic?

She had finished cleaning up his displaced luncheon now, he saw. It was time to stop stalling and make his presence know. But as Loki began to push himself off the wall, he stilled as he saw her pick up his spell book from where he had flung it on his chair. Eyes narrowed, Loki watched her run tentative fingers down the spine, scrunching up her nose as though engaged in some inner battle. Coming to a sudden conclusion, she opened the volume, seemingly at random, and carefully scanned the page. It could mean nothing to her, of course. Even if she was one of the few lower servants who were literate, she would surely never have learned ancient runes. And yet, as Loki stood watching, she raised her eyes from the book and, with a melodramatic gesture straight out of a pantomime, perfectly pronounced the incantation written in his book.

It was hard to say which of the two of them was more surprised when a shower of pale pink flower petals fell down around her head. 

“Well,” Loki drawled, staring at her with a renewed interest, “aren’t you just full of surprises.”

***

It seemed after all that she was not going to be raped. There were small mercies left in this world. When the guards had caught her trying to slip through the garden gate she had noticed when attending Fandrall on a picnic lunch, Lysse had thought herself, or at least her honor, lost.

The men had quickly realized what she was - a servant running away from her assigned place in the palace. That in itself was forgivable, but to have a high lord's property, inscribed with his name and apparently a gift of one from one of the princes, as evidence, was damning. They, of course, were quick to point out to her how lucky she was they had been the ones to apprehend her, since the prescribed punishment for a servant stealing from a noble was loss of a hand. They would not extract so much from her, they assured her. They would only demand her chastity as recompense before tossing her out of the gate. 

Lysse had tried to run, having no desire to service the men in exchange for her freedom. It had taken them little time to catch her and force her to the ground. She knew she didn't have the strength to fend them off physically. Her only chance, such as it was, was to scream and hope someone took pity on her. She had never in her wildest dreams imagined that her screams would bring Prince Loki, much less that he would deign to speak out on her behalf. And yet, here she was, anxiously waiting in his living room for him to return and decide what to do with her.

Out of the frying pan, into the fire, she thought, trying not to shiver. She knew the stories about Prince Loki; they all did. The dark younger prince with the knowing smirk and devilish eyes. There was never any shortage of gossiping about him in the servants quarters. Even Lysse, who tried to ignore such talk, had heard it. It was said, in hushed tones and with big eyes, that he was not allowed a personal maid of his own, even though he was a prince, because no young woman would be safe with him. A different girl was sent up each week, always while he was out, to collect his linen and quickly clean before he returned. Protection, they all agreed, against his evil advances. But if one was a thief, one could not expect such protection, could one?

At least he was handsome, the stray thought ran through her mind. Of course, Fandrall had been handsome, and she had fled him. Fandrall had a reputation as golden as his hair; Loki's was as black as his. There also, one could flee a Lord. Not the way Lysse had tried, with a stolen book and no leave, but she could have simply informed her supervisors that she no longer wished to serve him. A prince, however, was another story. He was royalty, he had claimed her, she was a thief. There was no running this time.

Giving herself a mental shake, Lysse determined to stop being so dramatic. Prince Loki had been nothing but kind to her, even going so far as to threaten the guards if they tried to molest her again. She had gotten great satisfaction out of watching them cower in response to whatever threats he had made to them, just quietly enough that she could not hear. She hoped they had nightmares for weeks. No, he had been a true gentleman. Much more so, in fact, than either her former employer or the Crown Prince had been. Weren't they supposed to be the chivalrous ones? Or did chivalry only apply to highborn ladies and not to the help? She was fairly certain she knew the answer to that.

As she gave her attention over to the room she was in, trying her best to stop her ever racing mind, Lysse felt herself warming instinctually to it. The walls were a dark wooden panel, accented with greens and gold. The effect was very masculine, but also comfortable. A large plush sofa against the wall looked remarkably inviting, and the light shining in from the balcony that ringed the curved tower wall let in a pleasing amount of light with the green curtains thrown open as they were. Glancing out onto the balcony, Lysse saw that a table had been overturned, and that what looked to be her new Prince's midday meal was strewn about the floor. Well, best begin now, she thought with a shrug.

Stepping out onto the balcony, Lysse was first hit with the stunning view. From this vantage, she could see the garden stretched out before her in a brilliant array of colors. She was very happy for the waist high balustrade that guarded the edge, keeping her from feeling to dizzy at the height. After sparing a few moments for the view, Lysse began setting the area to rights. She righted the table, wondering briefly how it had come to be knocked over in the first place, and gathered the scattered food onto the cast aside plate. The wine gave her pause for a moment, but she found a discarded napkin and sopped up the puddle neatly. She was beginning to feel almost happy as she went about such simple tasks in the bright, fresh air, when her eyes fell upon the leather book worked with gold letters sitting on a chair. 

Drawn as a magnet to iron, Lysse reached over and picked up the book. It was fanciful, but she would almost swear she could feel power pulsing from its pages. Turning it in her hands, she let her fingers trace the runes along the spine. "Summoning, Transformation, and Teleportation" the title read in ancient runes. A magic book then! It stood to reason. Everyone knew that Prince Loki was a powerful sorcerer, second only to his mother and maybe not even to her. Still, she had only ever come in contact with a handful of magic books before. Her knowledge of the ancient writing was strictly from historical archives. She had never actually had the chance to peruse one before. Would it be so wrong to open this one? Just to take a peak?

Unable to resist, Lysse opened the book to a random page. The illustrations were beautiful, filled with bright bouquets of flowers. The spell itself seemed simple enough. She wasn't entirely sure of one of the words, but there were enough she recognized that she thought she could infer what it was from context. The flowers were quite lovely; they would make an elegant addition to the table before her. Really, what harm could it do? It was not as though she expected anything to actually happen. Drawing herself up to her full (but still sadly diminutive) height, Lysse waved her arm before her like a street corner performer. As she finished the last word with a grand flourish, pink petals came raining down upon her. Lysse laughed in delight at the unexpected shower. It might not have been what she was aiming for, but it was far better than the nothing she had been expecting!

"Well,” she heard a voice from inside drawl, “aren’t you just full of surprises.”

Lysse let out a shriek and spun around to see Prince Loki staring at her, eyes intense and dark. Feeling a strange dark warmth seep into her body as he held her with a look, Lysse sank to her knees. Slowly, deliberately, he crossed the living room and walked out onto the balcony to stand before her. Finally unable to hold his gaze any longer, she dropped her eyes to the ground drew a deep breath.

"Forgive me, Your Highness," she whispered, all of the daring she had just felt upon doing the spell seeping out of her.

"So you are my new maid," he purred, as if she had not spoken. Reaching down, he grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and raised her head, looking at her as though she were some sort of arcane puzzle.

"Yes, Your Highness," she gulped, grasping for the power of speech. "And please, accept my humble thanks. I will do everything in my power to repay you."

"Oh, I have no doubt of that," he answered with the barest trace of a grin. "And it seems that everything in your power might be quite a bit indeed. The mind begins to reel at all the things you might do for me."

Lysse was suddenly acutely aware of her position on the floor before him. Of how close he was standing, and of where, exactly, her head was in relation to his body. Her mouth went dry as all the moisture in her seemed to sink instantly lower, and she was hit with simultaneous and conflicting urges to run away and to move just those few inches forward and rub up against him like a cat. Fortunately for her, fear kept her stationary under his intense perusal as her heart raced in her chest.

"Very well," he said after a moment in clipped tones, dropping her chin and stepping away abruptly. "I have never had a personal maid before. Your name is Lysse, I believe?"

"Yes, Your Highness," she breathed.

"Alright, Lysse, let's go over the rules."

Dropping back into the chair with his legs spread wide, Loki steepled his fingers and thought for a moment. Lysse was intensely relieved at the distance between them, and yet at the same time aware of a strange bereft feeling. Even a foot or more apart, she could still feel the energy he exuded, all coiled and ready to be tapped into at a moment's notice. It was enticing and terrifying all at once.

"I keep my rooms neat and orderly," he said, tapping his fingers together as spoke. "I suppose I will leave it to you now to make my bed in the morning and gather my clothing, though I may well forget and do it myself. I do not particularly like mornings, so you will not disturb me until I have risen on my own. I suggest you make a habit of rising on the later side, as I keep rather long night time hours. Once I have woken, you will fetch me my morning meal - the kitchen knows what I prefer. This will save me from having to eat a cold breakfast that has been waiting in the hall for hours. I divide my days between study, which is done here, training, which obviously is done on the pitch, and court duties, such as are appointed me. When I am here, you will be quiet and not interrupt me. I require concentration for my work. When I am called to court I may take you with me, once we have found suitable clothing for you."

Lysse flushed as his eyes raked over her hurriedly tied together dress and his lip curled. Did he have his own household uniform then? She knew his brother and parents all did, but she could not recall ever having seen anyone dressed in his colors.

"When I am out training, or at a function where I do not need you," he continued, "you time is your own. You may work on tasks here in the rooms, though I cannot imagine there will be many, or you may find other ways to occupy your time. Is all this understood?"

"Yes, Your Highness. Thank you, Your Highness."

"Prince Loki is fine," he sighed, standing and making a gesture for her to do the same before adding a perfunctory, "come."

Lysse tripped behind him as he returned inside. Walking to a door in the far wall, he produced a small gold key and opened it. As Lysse followed him inside her jaw dropped to the floor. Wall to wall shelves lined three sides of the large sized room, and everyone of them was covered in books. Lysse felt as though she had gone to Valhalla. With a small smile at this reaction, Loki gestured to the shelves on his left.

"These books," he told her, "are to be read only in these rooms. The ones to the right you are free to take where you like, as long as you return them in the condition you found them. Those," here he glared at her and then at the smaller case next to the desk across from them, "are not to be touched under any circumstances. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Prince Loki," she said with wide eyed reverence. All of these books, and she was free to read among all of them, or almost all, as she liked?

"I am not playing in this," he said sternly, stepping between her and the shelves she was regarding so covetously. "Some of those books are incredibly dangerous, not just for the reader but for all of Asgard. Touch them and I will know. And I will make you wish I had left you to the tender mercies of your thuggish guards.”

Lysse swallowed hard and nodded her head again, voice gone from his fierceness. 

"Very well," Loki sighed again. "I am to attend my Father in the great hall this evening, and you are not fit to attend dressed as you are. You may read or rest while you wait for me to come back, and we will continue this then. I will send to have your things brought up from the servants quarters, if you have any."

"My things?" Lysse parroted dumbly. "Am I... am I not to be returning there to sleep, My Prince?"

A slow, evil smile spread over Loki's face, and Lysse began to realize why all the other maids feared him. It was not quite fear though that seeped through her body. More like tingly excitement that started in her chest and ran straight down between her legs. Panic told her to draw back, to run away, but her feet kept her glued to the spot as he took the one step necessary to tower above her.

"Why no, little sparrow," he told her, bending down to purr into her ear. "You'll be sleeping here. Why? Don't you want to?"

A thousand answers flew into her mind, but not a single one could she say out loud before the prince. As her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, Loki chuckled and winked at her.

"You are delightfully easy to discombobulate, little sparrow," he laughed. "Come, I will show you to your room."