No matter which universe it was in, Asgard's nights always seemed quiet and profound. Loki set Helen on the sink in the washroom and let her get water from the faucet to wash her face while he turned and went to the dressing room to change into his pajamas.
As he was tying the belt of his robe, Helen's laughter came from the washroom. Loki hurriedly finished tying it and went out, only to find Helen's face covered in foam. She had even drawn a smiley face on the mirror with the foam.
Loki stood at the door with one hand on his hip. When Helen noticed him, instead of looking frightened after making a mess, she made a circle with her hands and blew a stream of bubbles at him.
Loki quickly waved a hand in front of his face to keep the foam from getting on his freshly washed hair. He turned to look for a towel in the washroom, only to discover that Helen had thrown those onto the floor too.
Loki sighed and went out. Just as he opened his bedroom door, a hesitant expression crossed his face. Instinctively, he turned to look at the corridor window. The frame chopped the moonlight into fragments, scattering them across the floor like a shattered mirror.
Outside, it was utterly quiet. Even the lights of the training grounds had gone out, which meant it was already deep into the night.
In the past, Loki would never have called for an etiquette officer or an attendant. He did not want them to think he was the sort of person who could not handle even such a trivial matter without troubling others.
Standing by the door, Loki took a deep breath and let it out, clearing those memories from his mind.