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Chapter Text

The crisp winter air sent flurries of snow across the dawn. Seated on the ledge of her open attic window, Maia looked across at the streaked horizon and breathed deeply, inhaling the light scent of the heather scattered like purple freckles across the landscape.

Then, a screeching voice shattered the peace of the morning.

"Maia!"

She sighed. 

"MAAAIIIIIIIIIAA!" The shriek, even more piercing than before, jolted Maia onto her feet and sent her scurrying down the stairs. 

"Coming, Stepmother!"

It was always the same in the Beauregard household. Maia this. Maia that.

"Maia, why don't you do this for me just this one time?"

"Maia, what are you doing downstairs in those rags? Go back to the attic!"

"Oh Maia, you're so funny. You really think you can eat at our table?"

And so it went. Maia, still struggling with the loss of her parents, bore it for a while. After the malice became too much, she tried to fight back - and ended up being locked upstairs for her "disrespect" by the ever so merciful Lady Beauregard. It was a blessing that she wasn't out on the street, so her stepmother said. 

So Maia took it. Over and over again, she withstood her stepmother and stepsister's abuse. Her new family, if you could call it so, saw her as nothing more than a servant to be used at their whims. 

But, Maia never lost her spirit. She saw her new family as conflicted rather than evil, so it was her duty to show them kindness and respect. If her sisters did not show her the same, Maia forced herself to believe that it was simply a result of their grief at losing both their father and stepfather. 

More realistically, they saw Maia as the catalyst for their lost lifestyle of luxury, before they were forced into the tragedy of a life without a private chef and butler. Maia was expected to take on the duties of what they once enjoyed. She gave up her free time to wait on them hand and foot, took her meals for the scraps from the table, and when her feet were too tired to climb into the dusty attic, her own bed for the warmth of the sooty hearth.

So when news of the ball came, Maia wasn’t even considered for attendance. She would, after all, be required to attend to her sisters’ preparation before she could spare a thought for her own. Her sisters Gertrude and Prudence were vying for a spot in the heart of Prince Loki, the most eligible bachelor in Asgard. Maia would be no match for a prince, they said. 

Loki's father, Odin, was approaching Odinsleep. Often millennia in length, the king would shut himself off from the kingdom in a period of deep slumber, unable to be awoken without disastrous consequences. With Thor happily married to the Lady Sif, the duty fell to Loki to marry one of great wealth or foreign sway to keep Asgard prosperous.

As Maia strolled along the city market on her daily bout of chores, the town was positively buzzing with the news of the ball. Every eligible girl thought that she would be the one to ensnare the fair prince’s heart (and inheritance). 

Maia did not care one whit. Why should it matter to her that the prince had dreamy eyes or a massive treasury? She was so uninterested in the proceedings of the ball that she shut herself off from the news about it altogether. She wanted no part of the ball nor the prince. 

Still, the thoughts in the back of her mind kept nagging. What would all the dresses look like as the beautiful ladies twirled around and around the floor? How lavish would the decorations be? To what extent would the King go to spoil his son before his respite?

And with absolutely no intention of meeting the prince, Maia decided that she would attend the royal ball. She would make her own dress, modifying one of her mother's gowns that she had cherished for years. While her sewing skills weren't flawless, she really just needed to blend into the crowd to be granted entrance and escape from the drudgery of her daily life. 

When the day came, Maia was ecstatic. She had been working for hours on her dress, hemming and embroidering the designs of the flowers she loved to watch grow from her windowsill. A friendly group of birds even dropped off some ribbon that looked suspiciously similar to Gertrude's old nightgown. In fact, pieces of nice fabrics kept appearing in her humble attic, but she nonetheless used them with gratitude.

When the time came to check her reflection tears welled in her eyes. She thought, just for a minute, that her mother was staring back at her. 

Maia, heart racing, practically flew down the stairs when the coach came to pick up the family. Her stepmother and sisters were all wearing a deep shade of emerald green, probably because they were told that the prince favored it. 

Maia did not care one whit about that. In her opinion, the royalty's habit of claiming colors as their own was one of the most ridiculous and outdated practices of the old order. She was just descending the last step when Prudence gasped. 

"Is that my sash?" She stalked towards Maia. 

"Well I found it in the attic- I-" Maia gasped out.

"Hey! I loved that nightgown. You bitch!" 

"I'm so sorry I didn't mean to-" Gertrude grabbed the ribbon cinching her waist and pulled, tearing the seams. 

"You little thief!"

Right behind her, Prudence grabbed for the lace on her skirt and yanked it, ripping the hem up the side. 

"Oh no, please don't!" Maia begged. But her cries fell on deaf ears as she struggled under her sister's destroying what she had so painstakingly created. Their hands were everywhere, and try as she might she couldn't get away from the both of them.

When they were through, her dress was in tatters around her, undergarments exposed and makeup smeared across her face. Maia was crying silently, crumpled inwards, trying to protect her face from her stepsister's sharp nails. When they were finally done, her tears had turned into body-wracking gasps and she clutched wrought-iron staircase when she heard her the door slam shut. 

Gertrude and Prudence's nasal laughs echoed across the lawn and into the hall as the carriage pulled away. 

Those laughs made her blood boil. She had let them walk all over her again - dishonoring not only her, but the memory of her mother. She picked herself up and rubbed her shoulder it had pressed painfully against a marble stair. 

Her sisters would not ruin this night for her. She was sure of it.

She ran into the bedroom she had been forbidden to enter into and took a few pins from her stepmother's dresser to reconstruct her dress carefully, making sure that every piece that her sisters had destroyed looked new. Maia tugged her slippers on and set out towards the palace, locking the door behind her so her stepmother wouldn't suspect that she had left. 

She was going to the ball, whether they knew it or not.

The walk wasn't short, but Maia didn't mind. She made the trek all the time to run errands for her stepmother, and it was hard to miss the towering palace silhouette. When she got to the palace steps, she didn't hesitate. The ball was already in full swing, but Maia didn't focus on the dresses, or the women, or bother looking around for the prince.

Her jaw had dropped when she saw the grandiose ballroom. 

The ballroom of Asgard was massive, lined with ornate columns like the Roman Colosseum. A gilded stripe of carpet down the middle marked the Golden Mile, the road that every royal dreaded on coronation day.

Loki didn't mind the distance, but rather those that watched him cross it. It was no secret that the people of Asgard were not the fondest of him. 

They had always preferred his golden brother, Thor, and had focused all of their attention on him instead. To be perfectly honest, Thor was a natural at it. People flocked to him, and he grew to be the favorite of their father and the court. 

But, if Loki could marry, he would be redeemed in the eyes of his father and of his people. No matter his past, it was Asgardian custom that his transgressions would be cleansed on the day of his marriage, and with every day forward, he could begin with a clean slate.

Therefore, he needed to find a wife if not for the reason his father believed. His Seiðr was more than enough to protect the kingdom and keep it's economy flourishing, but Odin had forbidden all magic after he was cursed in his youth by the sorceress Lorelei. 

A millenia ago, she built him an illusion so intricate that he went into a rampage. He took his mighty sword to every apple in the Nine Worlds, thinking he was preventing the mortals from gaining immortality through the golden apples of Idunn.

Really, Odin just made a lot of farmers in Washington really, really, angry. 

Loki chuckled at the thought as he lounged on the throne to his father's left. He was bored out of his mind with all of the introductions to the rich and royal. 

"Princess Aribella of Alfheim. Dutchess Bethany of Kįal. Prince Hans of the Southern Isles." 

Loki sensed something sketchy about Hans, so he flicked his fingers and shot a bolt of magic at the pompous prince. 

Hans would find a certain something decidedly smaller when he next checked. Microscopic, in fact. 

"Boy." Odin snapped at him. 

"Yes, dearest Allfather?" Loki looked at him, face a perfect picture of innocence. 

"Do not mock me."

"Oh, never in my immortal life."

"I won't stand for this ridicule, Loki." Odin spoke so low it sounded as a growl. 

"Fine." Loki sat down hard into his chair, resisting the urge to roll his eyes and propping his feet on the lavish ottoman in front of him. 

Or so his father thought. 

In the briefest of moments, Loki had cast an illusion on his seat to make himself appear to be sitting and looking at the women being introduced with something other than disinterest. 

He had really turned himself invisible and snuck out to the royal gardens. It was quieter out there in the open, and he needed a chance to clear his head. He would, after all, have to pick a suitor tonight. 

While he would never admit it, the thought of spending an eternity with just one woman pleased him immensely. He was the type to worship, to ravish, to give and give and give until his stores were spent. He wanted the chance to love unconditionally, and to receive her love in return.

He just needed to find the right woman. 

Maia was still staring in awe at the massive room laid beneath her. Peering around a column, she looked from stained glass windows that reflected the torchlight like prisms to the details of the Corinthian pillar above her. She was hiding in the shadows, sticking to the outskirts of the ballroom to avoid detection. 

"Miss." A deep voice came from behind her, making Maia jump out of her skin. 

"Who's there?"

One of the Royal Guard had come behind her without her notice. He was wearing the markings of the Einherjar, a legion of elite warriors entrusted to protect the crown princes.

"Captain Edmund, Miss. I am required to inform you that every citizen is welcome at the ball. Prince Loki welcomes it."

He didn't sound angry, but Maia was still a little intimidated by the horned helmet. 

"Oh, I don't mind." She said quickly. "I'm just here to get away from everything, you know?" 

"I understand. Perhaps a walk in the royal gardens would suit?"

"Am I- are you sure? People like me aren't normally allowed in there."

"It is a most joyous day. Exceptions can be made. If any of my Einherjar give you trouble, inform them that their Captain has given you express permission."

"Thank you for your kindness, Captain."

"Just Edmund, please Miss..."

"Maia." She supplied. 

"A pleasure."

Maia could have sworn that Edmund smiled at her from underneath his helmet before he gave her a kurt nod and left just as quickly as he had come.

Maia picked up her skirt to descend the stairs, trying not to lose any pins on brambles in the garden. She could just see the main pavilion of Asgard's grounds, buttressed by columns with fragrant vines of flowering jasmine. The garden was walled with tall hedges and dotted with rows of rose bushes and quiet fountains gently bubbling in the night. 

Maia peered around the hedge to admire the white roses when she saw the prince in all his finery strolling along. She gasped quietly and ducked behind the foliage, but her hazel eyes gleamed in the moonlight as they followed him through the garden.

He sat down hard on the lip of a fountain, put his head in his hands, and sighed deeply. He seemed distressed, and Maia involuntarily took a step towards him to see what was going on. 

Suddenly, a twig snapped under her foot sounding like a crack of thunder cutting through the peace of the garden. Loki's head shot up, and he involuntarily called his Seiðr to attention sending magic coiling around his clenched fingers. 

"Who goes there? If you announce yourself now, no harm will come to you."

Maia stumbled out of the bushes, face as red as the tomatoes her stepsisters made her prune. 

"I'm so sorry to disturb you, your Highness. I can just go, I really shouldn't be here..."

Loki cut her off, letting his magic dissipate. She was no threat to him given her small frame and the fact that she looked as if she had recently lost a fight. 

He studied her dress that was rent from the seams as if an animal had torn it off her very body. Her hair, which had clearly been swept up carefully out of her face, was now wild with ringlets falling to graze her chin.

"Did the palace hounds get to you? What has put you in such a state of dishevelment, my lady?"

She laughed sharply, although there was only a hint of humor in it. "Not dogs, my lord. My stepsisters really didn't want me coming to the ball tonight."

Loki balled his fist tighter. 

"And what are the names of these termagants? I thought I made it expressly clear that every maiden was welcome to attend. I will see to it myself that they are reprimanded."

"Oh, don't do that! My stepmother keeps a roof over my head and food on the table, and I only have to help around the house a little extra. They have been good to me."

Maia grimaced. "They just didn't want to be seen with me is all."

"They do not deserve you, darling." He said gently. 

"Everyone is deserving of kindness, my prince. One must simply have the courage to give it."

"Well said. May I have your name?"

"Maia."

Loki looked her up and down, eyes bright.

"You must promise not to alert my father as to what I am about to do."

Maia looked at him apprehensively, then hugged her stomach tighter as he drew closer to her. He held his hands up reassuringly. 

"Nothing untoward, I promise. On my honor as a Prince."

"Oh, okay." Still unsure, Maia rose from her seat on the fountain and stood before him, shoulders proud. He was much taller than she was, so she tried to straighten her back as much as she could.

"Close your eyes, Maia." With a quick glance around, he let his magic run free, running all around the garden in whips and curls of energy.

Maia was squeezing her eyes shut, letting out a little giggle at the absurdity of it all. Would he tuck flowers in her hair? Would he whisper words of poetry in her ear?

Wait. Was the prince tickling her?

She eeped in surprise as she felt a brush of something against her bare arm, and shivered when something cool touched the shell of her ear. 

"You may open them, darling."

Maia looked up at Loki, then around at the garden. Everything was beautiful, of course, but nothing had changed. She tilted her head in confusion, but he just gestured towards her.

"Look down."

She did, and a breathy gasp flew from her lips before she could stop it. Her tattered dress had been transformed into a beautiful gown with layers upon layers of gossamer blue fabric that seemed to twinkle as she twisted around to get a better view. A corset held in her waist and rose to drape over her shoulders to expose her collarbone, and the hair that she had pinned up now fell in soft waves on her back.

Eyes shining with emotion, she rushed towards him and threw herself into his open arms for a hug. 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! My prince, I don't know how I can ever repay you."

"You promise you won't tell my father?"

"Of course, your majesty."

He chuckled. "None of that. Call me Loki. If I have the honor of your name, so you have mine."

"Are you sure?" Maia looked at him hesitantly, but he just smiled as he offered his arm. She took it, and he walked her along the garden path towards a side entrance to the palace. 

"I do believe I owe you for keeping my secret."

"No! The dress is so nice already, and I..."

"I'm afraid I must insist." He held open a door for her and led her up a winding staircase. She could hear the music of the ball in the distance, along with the chattering voices of people gossiping about him, his father, and the food. Loki would have to pass on the complements to his friends in the kitchens. 

With a twist of his hand, he made his illusion excuse itself and walk gracefully towards his actual form, joining the two seamlessly between steps. When they reached the top of the staircase, Maia peered out of an archway onto the marble dance floor alight with gorgeous maidens and their suitors. 

Loki stepped out into the light, and the music quieted and the room fell into a hush. The entire ball was rife with the anticipation of who he would choose for his first dance to formally begin his courtship of a woman. Maia followed him timidly, but the minute the light of the chandelier hit her the crowd rose into an uproar.

Apparently, they liked Loki's choice. He winked and held out his hand, palm up.

"Come on, darling. Let's dance."

With a smile, Loki led his princess onto the dance floor. 

Chapter Text

Maia felt like a Bilgesnipe in headlights. 

"Loki!" She hissed. "Everyone's staring at us!"

He laughed as the orchestra resumed its playing, and the sound bounced off the high columns of the ballroom. "Oh, they've seen enough of me, darling. They're looking at you."

Loki pulled her into the center of the room and bowed low as the lights dimmed. Maia dropped into a deep curtsy in response, but her stomach was trilling with butterflies.  The prince curled his arm around her waist and led her into the beginning steps of the waltz, making a wide circle around the marble of the ballroom. All around them, women gasped at her beauty while all the men looked enviously on the prince. With every movement, he allowed Maia to shine, steering her towards the outside of the cleared circle of courtesans to show her off. He was clearly trained in the classical waltz steps, but Maia had only listened to Gertrude and Prudence's dance teacher through the slats of her attic door. Try as she might, she stepped on Loki's dark leather boots frequently, but Maia was glad that he didn't seem to notice. 

In reality, he had sent a wisp of invisible Seiðr and woven steel above his toes after she stomped on him the first time. She clearly had not had much practice, but Loki didn't fault her one bit.

Hopeless as she was, Loki made dancing easy. He kept his arms caged around her, so all Maia really needed to do was step quickly enough as to not get left behind. Fortunately, the layers of fabric shimmering in her gown were remarkably lightweight and did much to hide her stumbling feet. Soon, Maia was lost in the one-two-three rhythm and let Loki twirl her around and around the floor.

He pulled her closer, his breath tickling her jawline as he spoke. 

"Enjoying yourself?" The way his eyes twinkled sent the butterflies in Maia's stomach fluttering again, and when she answered her voice was high and breathy with delight.

"Very much! I feel as if I'm in a dream."

He lifted his arm to let her twirl outwards, then pulled her in quickly to keep pace with the lilting music. 

"As do I. I've dreamed of this moment for a long time."

Maia giggled softly. "Dancing with someone with two left feet?" He shook his head as he smiled indulgently.

"Dancing with a woman as exquisite as you are." He said. 

She blushed, but Loki meant every word. Never in his life had he seen someone so stunningly beautiful. He was wholly enchanted by her soft smile, her piercing eyes, the gentle slope of her jaw, the way her laugh sounded like tinkling bells. Maia was still too stunned to speak when Loki's arms banded around her waist and lifted her effortlessly, sending her gown swooshing around her and eliciting sighs from just about every woman in the room. Loki set her down gently, glanced around and leaned in close to Maia. 

"Let's give them something to look at, yes?" Loki whispered in her ear. Before she could protest, he slid his hand higher to support her back and dipped her low, lifting her back up to cup her cheek with his free hand and press a kiss to her lips. 

The ballroom exploded in a roar of approval, and Maia flushed in pleasure with the applause. Loki looked at her with pride, loving how gracefully she handled their admiration. Even Odin, who had only looked impassive during the entirety of their first dance, allowed the corner of his mouth to turn up ever so slightly. 

The only ones excluded from the chorus of cheers were the Beauregard family, huddled in the corner by the kitchens. After their original shock at Maia being the object of the prince's affection, Gertrude and Prudence had snickered and made snide comments since Maia had made her debut. Maia's stepmother, having already consumed copious amounts of wine, was less subtle. 

The conductor of the royal orchestra was just tapping his baton to start the next piece when the Lady Beauregard stumbled onto the dance floor, heading straight for the prince and Maia.  

"Oh princeeeeee!" She sang in a mocking tone, rousing the attention of a few members of the crowd around her. Maia stiffened, but refused to shrink back and straightened her shoulders, leveling her gaze at her stepmother.

Maia was hoping, praying, that she would just shut up, but the Lady Beauregard's intoxication only released her inhibitions to say what she felt. 

"That girl's a gutter rat!" She slurred. "She isn't- she can't- she's not worthy to be a princess!" Her voice rose in pitch until she was screeching at the prince, and now the entire ballroom had fallen into a hush to listen to the insults being hurtled at the court's newest darling. 

After a reassuring squeeze to Maia's waist, Loki straightened his jacket and stalked towards her stepmother, sending her scrambling back in surprise. Loki's voice was razor-sharp when he spoke directly to her.

"I chose her as she is. She is capable of more love, more respect, more dignity than any member of royalty that I've had the" -his voiced soured ever so slightly- "pleasure of meeting tonight. Though we've known each other but moments, I know that I will love her with my whole heart." Loki turned on his heel and walked back to Maia, who was barely keeping her emotions in check.

He took a small, but deep breath, took hold of both her hands, and dropped down onto his knee. He glanced up at Maia, who had tears glistening in her eyes but a massive smile on her face. 

"Maia?"

"Yes, my prince?"

She said it with just a hint of sarcasm, undetectable to those who hadn't been privy to their earlier conversation but showing the delicious mischievous streak in her all the same. He squeezed her hands playfully but let them go, reaching into the pocket of his trousers and shooting a quick glare at Maia’s stepmother as he pulled a ring from his pocket. It consisted of rose-colored gold found in the deepest mines on Svartalfheim, holding a massive, round-cut diamond bracketed by two smaller ones.  

In planning for this moment, he had thought about creating one entirely of magic, but decided against it. Instead, he chose to gift her the ring that Odin had designed for his mother before she passed. Whether Loki was her legitimate son or not, the entire palace knew that Loki was Frigga’s boy - it was the reason that she had, in the days before she passed, hidden her ring in the palace library’s section on Yggdrasil’s history. Thor could barely read, much less go looking for a history book, and Odin was too concerned about his reputation for omniscience to go digging around in the library. Frigga knew it would be safe until Loki discovered it.

Upon finding it years ago, Loki had kept it private from everyone in the palace. He would reveal it when the time was right, and he didn’t want to risk Thor claiming it for Sif instead.  Selfish? Maybe. But when Maia looked at him as if he had hung the moon, he knew he had made the right decision. He pinched it between his thumb and forefinger, offering it to her and praying to the gods that he had read this correctly.

“Will you marry me?” He asked. 

“Yes, yes! Oh my gods! Maia squealed as Loki picked her up and spun her around, then slipped the ring onto her hand.

“But- no! She’s not a princess. She has no wealth, no status.” Gertrude and Prudence had joined their mother, who was practically snarling in protest.

“She’s our slave! Said Gertrude.

“A peasant!” Added Prudence.

"Guards!" Retiring or not, Odin's voice carried all the authority of the throne and it rang with power, bringing the Einherjar snapping into formation behind him. Loki held Maia ever so slightly tighter, putting himself between his father and his beloved almost subconsciously as his hand drifted to his sword. 

Odin descended the steps from his throne in silence, then hit the end of his staff against the marble with finality. "Escort these three ladies from the premises. Immediately."

Loki glanced at Maia, then back at him, confused. "Father?"

Odin chuckled. "I wouldn't have them harassing the future princess of Asgard, would I?"

Loki's heart, caged for so long, soared with his father's acceptance. "Thank you, Allfather. You won't regret this."

Odin strode forward and bowed to Maia, sending murmurs once again racing through the ballroom. The King bowed for no one, but yet he had humbled himself before this peasant farm girl. 

Loki only grinned wider when Maia dropped into a tentative curtsy. “I cannot thank you enough, my King.” She said.

He gave a short laugh. "Just Odin is fine. Anyone who can manage Mischief over here can call me anything she likes." Odin winked at Maia, then turned to Loki. 

"I know now that you are brave enough to follow your heart, no matter the expectations. You will make a good king, my boy." Loki stood, speechless, as Odin's acceptance registered in his mind. In all his life, he had only strived to belong, to fit in, to be worthy of his family's love. 

All it took was finding love himself to earn it. 

He rushed forward and hugged his father tightly, blinking away the singular tear that fell onto Odin's shoulders.

"Thank you." He whispered. Odin patted him on the back, then slammed his staff on the ground once more to quiet the crowd. 

"Open the royal stock -this calls for a celebration!" He cheered. The crowd clapped even wilder after that, drowning out the insults and screams of Maia's old family as Edmund and his soldiers dragged them out and tossed them onto the palace steps. 

Loki took Maia's hand and walked towards the balcony, the crowd parting in front of the newly betrothed and closed just as quickly when they passed, scrambling to get a view of the royal couple. 

It was Maia's turn to surprise Loki when she grabbed his jacket and pulled him into a kiss, caution for the judgement of the eyes behind her thrown to the wind. It still wasn’t clear if she dreamed this moment to life, but there was raw emotion in the way his lips clashed with hers, the gentle pressure of his hand spanning her back.

She felt his fingers lift and flick against her spine as his magic, invisible, swirled to life and shot into the night. After a few moments, fireworks exploded across the sky in brilliant white and gold, awing the crowd behind. If the sparks from said fireworks rained down on the Bureaguards, leaving their frivolously expensive gowns full of holes, then that was certainly none of Loki's doing. He looked at Maia with adoration and held her close, unwilling to ever let her go. 

Maia giggled a little at the insanity of it all. In the span of a night, her life had become a fairytale - but as she looked at her husband, she realized that she couldn't be happier.