The Asgardians had always regarded Loki with a certain inexplicable caution. The God of mischief certainly had a reputation, to say the least. Granted it wasn't like the reputation of his brother, Thor - who made women of all ages swoon and fall at his feet, losing any shred of respect that Loki may have held for them.
Thor was the perfect opposite to Loki; a drastic contrast between the brothers could be seen all too clearly, and it sometimes made the trickster doubt his relation to him. While Loki was cold, calculating and intelligent, Thor was dim-witted, hearty and "charge first, ask questions later". It explained why the two never really saw eye-to-eye, that along with the unquestionable favouritism Odin bore for Thor over his slim, silver-tongued brother.
Loki suppressed a grimace of displeasure as he watched yet another maiden sigh in awe at the beauty of his fair haired, blue eyed brother. Nobody fell for him so hard, not Loki, not the one who could cast a spell on you as soon as look at you. Not Loki, the one who was cruel and evil and villainous to the eyes of others.
It made him sick. He was glad of the fact no-one treated him in such a way. He was left to his own devices, most of the time, when he wasn't being scorned for existing by Odin.
What in the name of Valhalla was it that people found so attractive in him? My brother. My stupid, arrogant, childish brother, how could anyone be attracted to that? The trickster questioned no-one but himself on this, for he knew that they would mistake his disgust for envy.
No-matter, Loki thought, shaking his thoughts from him and continuing about the banquet hall, observing women gossiping between each other, fascinated by each others lies and half-truths, and seeing men and warriors chortle heartily, discussing battle techniques and such.
He sighed in displeasure and turned to leave, preparing to head back to his quarters. As he went to bid goodnight to his parents, who were - surprise, surprise - gazing in pride at his perfect sibling, he caught an unfamiliar figure in the corner of his emerald eyes. A girl, petite and shapely, stood with one of the servants, nodding vigorously as though taking in a lot of information.
Overcome by curiosity, the prince glided through the crowd again, training his ears to listen to the conversation this newcomer was having with one of his servants.
"…ki" the servant was speaking. Was he talking about Loki perhaps?
He turned to look at the girl. She bit her lip and shifted her weight thoughtlessly onto the other leg, popping her hip out a little. The God of mischief noticed that, unlike most of the women here, she was average looking. Less bold and provocative, as though she wasn't aware of Thor's presence at all. Her clothing was prettier than that of a servant's, he observed. His eyes tracing over her features, licking up and down her body, taking in every aspect. The only things he could see that weren't average about her were her abnormally short height - standing at no more than 5'3" - and her a larger than average cleavage. Otherwise? There was nothing special about her.
Loki focused himself on listening to them again, after what was apparently only a brief second or so of distraction, "He likes playing tricks on those around him, you must bear that in mind," the servant continued and it occurred to Loki who this young woman could be, "You must attend to his every need though, regardless of whether or not he has tricked you."
This boring-to-look-at girl was going to be his new personal servant.
"Oleg!" A cool, smooth voice called authoritatively, a man strode towards the servant who was explaining in excruciating detail each thing the newcomer was to do each morning for Loki, "Who is this?"
"This is Jóhanna," The man, Oleg, looked as though he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have, "She is to be your new servant, if it so pleases you..."
This must be Loki... Jóhanna's eyes licked over the tall, slim, intense being before her, Everyone I have spoken to insists that Thor is the better sibling. The brunette young woman cast a fleeting glance towards said sibling, who was brandishing the Mjolnir as though it were a toy, not like the weapon it was. His dirty blond hair flowed smoothly to his shoulders and brushed his heavily muscled arms as he moved, he didn't look intelligent, she admitted. He looked like the type who would plunge into a non-existent war, only to end up destroying the kingdom.
He looked like a child.
Jóhanna's focus shifted back to Loki and she could not help but stifle a snort of laughter as she noticed the drastic difference between the two brothers. Loki raised a dark, thin eyebrow, unimpressed and probably under the impression that she was mocking his figure. Quite the opposite, in fact, she was thinking how attractive the man was. With slicked back, silky looking black hair and thin, defined features, she couldn't help but to find him a little attractive. His jaw was strong and narrow, giving him a look of authority, like the son of a king should so have, and his eyes - his emerald green, bright, judgemental eyes - bore a mischievous glint, mixed with a strong gleam of intelligence.
The God's eyebrow remained raised, "We'll see how she copes," he said definitely, before adding, almost as an afterthought he wished for her not to hear, "See if she lasts longer than the last one..."
A steely glare was all that was needed to make Oleg place a large, barely clean hand on the small of Jóhanna's back and bid sincere apologies to Loki, before pushing her quite forcefully out of the room and his sight.
Once the trickster was apparently out of earshot, Oleg turned his light ginger bearded face to Jóhanna, "Jóka, what was that?"
Jóhanna winced at the nickname being used in such a harsh tone, but retorted nonetheless, "I was simply observing the absurdity that people find Thor more attractive than his quite plainly more intelligent and good-looking brother."
"You could be punished for speaking so rudely of the heir to Asgard's throne!" The old servant protested.
"Merely," the well-witted woman stated, "my own observation upon first glance. Forgive me."
"You're barely intelligent enough to take this role. I should throw you out right now!"
Jóka didn't bother stopping the short gasps of laughter that so briefly escaped her lips this time, "And what would you tell Loki? That I was thrown out for finding him attractive?"
Oleg was silenced with this well placed question, he had no reply for it, after all, it was true. Instead, he shuffled again, shifting from foot to foot for a moment or two before trudging down the grand golden hallway they stood in. After he had walked alone for a minute, he turned back and beckoned Jóka to follow.
Jóka was in fact a highly intelligent woman; regardless of what Oleg had so mistakenly said. She was also quite honest about her thoughts and feelings, despite what her instincts advised her against, she would rarely lie unless it was for nothing more than fun, which she so enjoyed.
The pair walked for what seemed to be an eternity until they stopped just shy of a small, yet still rather impressive looking, door, "These are to be your sleeping quarters," Jóhanna was informed, and with that snippet of information, Oleg left her to her own devices, but not before calling back one final thing, "You must find your way to the servants' dining area at 6am, you are not permitted any luxuries while working either."