My Prince Loki
It all started going backwards in, “The Big Week.”
That week I had just started my internship at The Daily Bugle after Tony Stark was attacked by a man with electric whips and the monster that was being named “The Hulk” had destroyed Rio de Janeiro that weekend. Every other intern who was fighting for their place at the Bugle was writing argumentative pieces on whether Tony Stark was a home grown terrorist or was making theories on what The Hulk actually was and how it came to be. I on the other hand was writing on the only thing I considered myself to be an expert on, The Norse God mythology.
When I was in my last year of high school my highest mark was my essay for history. In it I discussed the summaries between Christianity and the Viking mythology. Granted it caused me some pain but I forced myself to look at the mythology besides my personal ‘connection’ with one God in particular.
So thinking I could go for two by getting my work published in the newspaper I started drafting. And like any good writer, I feel into the frustrating trap of writer’s block. At first all I had were titles (that kinda ran like essay topics) but that was it.
Does the mythology have any relevance to recent times?
Norse mythology and language impacts, is there any?
Was Loki unacknowledged in the Norse God Mythology?
The last one made me shiver from head to foot simply because for the past five years I hadn’t really thought about him at all. I had been sitting at my desk in my apartment at that moment when I had written another title,
Is Loki Truly Evil?
Scared and annoyed I abounded the drafting and went to bed thinking I was getting away from it. Unfortunately my sub-conscious had other plans.
In my dreams I found myself in a high golden room filled with beautiful honey coloured robbed individuals talking rather quickly and excitedly. At first I just thought it was my subconscious being odd but then my nose picked up a familiar smell. The room’s scent had a strong metallic smell to it mixing with strong smooth but bitter spices; the smell of Asgard.
The dreams air was electric with excitement and anticipation as I walked around the room and the crowd looking at the Aesirs, not recognizing any of them from Loki’s descriptions. The captivating atmosphere of the room had made my dream-self feel second hand excitement. I could feel myself smiling fully, my gait more a skip than a walk.
Who was this for? I had wondered only for a short moment as the surrounding excited chatter around the room had practically answered my silent question.
All the nerves and this excitement was for Thor, the God of Thunder. And he was about to be crowned King of Asgard.
At that moment the sound of the grand doors opened, the room’s conversations and excitement cutting off at the sight of Odin AllFather. He looked exactly as Loki had described him. Although now his beard was shining silver rather than greying brown, his built a little less grand.
He was tall and proud in his gait. His presence alone seemed to demand the utmost respect that reflected in his blue eye as he looked over his subjects with affection and dominance. His two birds, Huginn and Muninn, sat on his red robbed shoulders with their black heads held high.
As he passed the Aesirs they started to drop to their knees to knell at the nervous looking All Father. A little memory of Loki and I playing Asgard went across my dreams conscious, where Loki was telling me, his queen, to kneel.
What I considered a conflicting and confusing memory was interrupted by Odin telling everyone to rise. When the crowd had raised Odin then, with his harsh but gentle tone, announced the rest of the royal family, the crowd clapping politely.
Everyone’s head had turned then to the doors, my heart stopping at the sight of my Prince holding hands with his Mother.
He was in the battle armour I had seen in him be in threatening times, the golden horns catching the light around him. To me he seemed taller, his face more narrow although he still had his intense green eyes. He looked proud with the small nervous smile on his face illumining the room.
I don’t know what came over me but suddenly I found myself rushing towards the front of the crowd weaving through the Gods to get him to see me. I wanted him to see me, to know I was here. It was like the child in me had taken control because I knew the adult part of me had no interest in the God of Mischief.
“LOKI!” I yelled expecting and wanting him to turn and face me. But he didn’t.
“LOKI!” I yelled again thinking he didn’t hear me as he got closer. Still he didn’t look my way once.
“LOKI IT’S ME! LOUISA! LOOK AT ME PLEASE!” I sobbed outstretching my hand to grab him. But my hand fell through his armoured shoulder like I was a ghost. He just kept moving walking up to his place on the foot of the stairs kneeling on one knee to his Father, Frigga doing the same. Odin gave Loki a stern and distance nod while he gave an affectionate smile shown to his Queen. They both then stood up, Loki’s stance more rigid than the pair.
When Loki turned around he looked at me, my heart beating fast against my chest. His eyes were even more intense than before looking straight through me, his lips set in a concreted line. It was like he was searching through me, looking for something.
“Loki please…” I whispered looking straight into his eyes. He sighed heavy looking over my head, the sound of heavy doors opening up. The loud and enthusiastic applauds drowning out my yell of cries, Loki glaring with jealously and a small mixer of hatred.
I woke up then with a start sitting in my bed, my heart thundering in my body. The dream played over my conscious for the rest of the night not allowing me rest. Every time I closed my eyes he was there looking through me with his intense green eyes, something not even Cameron could do.
I didn’t want to think of him again so I went to Cameron’s to distract me with his love from my nightmare. Of course I woke him up and he was annoyed but as soon as he saw my upset expression he was generally concerned for me. I was taken into his arms and he sat me down on his bed where he listened to my dream about Loki.
After I had finished he looked at me with concern,
“I thought you said he was gone?”
“He is gone. He’s not coming back in the way he did.”
“Are you sure?” He asked, his voice had sounded almost childlike, like he was scared.
“I’m positive. I’ve moved on from my imaginary friend,” I told him, Loki’s concreted searching gaze doing laps around my consciousness. I swallowed tightly,
“I know he’s never coming back.” I couldn’t help feeling a pull in my gut, which only happened when I was outright lying. Like I was only saying this to make sure Cameron wasn’t hurting or worrying for me.
Though Cameron’s smile and passionate kiss made me ignore it all and I only focused on his touch and words wiping Loki – the past - away so I could sleep in an exhausted haze.
The next day went at it’s fast pace with me zipping around The Daily Bugle doing the usual jobs as I continued to brainstorm on a Viking related story. I wasn’t going to let the Loki dream stop me or hold me down. I was going to treat it like I did when I studied Vikings in high school, something in the past that has come forward just to haunt and distract me for a while.
Though, no matter how much I brainstormed I was still stuck with Loki doing laps in my head.
Destiny vs. purpose in Viking Mythology – Loki and Raganoff.
Lies and mischief – do they go hand in hand?
Disguises – can they just be through a mask or are they deeper?
I was again stuck at the end of that day with a massive headache and nothing to hand into Jameson. Even after I talked to Cameron on the phone, something that usually calmed me down, I still went to sleep again feeling a deep sense of angrier and stress hoping desperately Loki wouldn’t be there.
That night though Loki did come back. It was very similar to the dream I had the night before, except I was now standing in a darker golden room with walls covered in spiral patterns. Odin was clearly yelling at Thor, Thor yelling back although I couldn’t get the words, all I had was a feeling this was over something major.
I looked next to myself wanting to find an exit but instead I’m found myself looking at very tense and guilty Loki watching it all, like he was the reason for the disagreement.
I felt a jolt through my body like someone had made a large noise causing me to turn to see Odin looking like he was screaming his words now; Thor seemed to reply with just the same loudness making Loki and Odin flinch.
Loki stepped forward then to say something, maybe to vouch for his brother but was yelled at by Odin, I felt Loki being startled but that was it.
Odin then with heavy feet marched up to Thor and started ripping off parts of his son’s armour, the metal arm bands falling off like shreds. He then tore off his cape and Mjolnir from his hand opened the Bifröst only to let Thor fall into it. Loki with teary eyes gave his Father a distressed look marching out, my dream ending feeling Loki’s unstable feelings of grief but a sense of happiness that his brother had been banished. This happiness though quickly turned into a sense of envy.
That day I had pondered the dreams so much that the events of the Stark Expo destruction of the night before went straight over my head. Every other intern began writing and reporting on the destruction in the hopes to impress Jameson with more than a cup of coffee.
One reporter tried to do an in-depth article about Ivan Vako, but this article along with others Jameson regarded as “generic” articles were scraped.
“Jameson doesn’t want anything from us that involves the big stories.” The ‘Ivan Vako reporter’ told me that week.
“Maybe because he’s already getting that from his journalists, you’ve just got to be quicker and maybe a bit more original that’s all.” I told him giving him a pat on the back, he rolled his eyes.
“Yeah I guess. How’s the Viking article coming on?”
I was still completely stressed and stuck for ideas.
“I still think it’s a long shot, Jameson probably won’t take it. Well that’s unless of course you get some sort of hard physical proof and make it current.”
And of course, I didn’t really have any proof nor could I make it relevant. The only thing I really had at that point was allegedly Odin’s blue box thing called the Tesseract was somewhere dumped in the ocean or in the possession of some government agency called S.H.I.E.L.D. But that again was just conspiracies, not actual proven facts I could find. To me, “The Rising Tide” wasn’t a source I could use, let alone trust as reliable.
I wasn’t about to give Jonah anotherIvan Vako article filled with conspiracies and vague opinions of where the box was. So I was left with nothing.
That was until I received a call from Jenny in New Mexico. She was there doing volunteer work at some school for extra experience for her bachelor but had skipped that morning because there had been some sort of satellite sighting. She had called me thinking I would want to report on it, not aware of the theme I was going with.
“Yeah some are calling it a satellite, but I think it looked more like a hammer actually.” Jenny told me.
“A hammer?” I asked pacing up and down the Bugle office.
“Yeah, but no one could get it out of the ground. Heaps of people tried but nothing could make it budge.”
I tried lifting the hammer once, but since I wasn’t “worthy” I could not.
“Jenny I could kiss you! Thank you!” I hanged up my phone running into Joe’s office.
“Joe is anything coming in from New Mexico?”
Joe laughed, “Except the refugees, nothing. Why?”
“Nothing about a satellite?”
“Thank you!” I scoot back around the corner to my desk ringing Jenny again.
“Why did you -?”
“Tell me everything you can about the hammer you saw.”
“Why is it so important? I was only there for five minutes before the feds turned up.”
Feds that’s a good sign, I had thought wanting to giggle hysterically.
“Just tell me, it’s a matter of publication life or death.”
Two hours later I was knocking rapidly on Jameson’s door with my article in my hand. The article was like a, “on the ground” record of the satellite sighting that resembled a hammer to the onlookers. This allowed me to argue about Mjolnir, the weapon of Thor, which I had a nagging doubt that he or someone else had dropped somewhere.
Betty scowled at me from her desk after the third round of frantic knocking,
“Louisa, Jameson’s going to lose it if you continue doing that. Why don’t you just give it to me and I can pass it on?”
I grin widely at her as I had opened the door,
“Thanks, but I think I’ve got it.”
I watched her roll her eyes to my wink as I shut the door. I turned to Jameson sitting behind his desk with his arms crossed, a look that could kill aimed at me.
“Hi Mr Jameson, I just wanted to give you my article –“
“If you were going to give it in person, why didn’t you give it to the girl at the desk?”
“Because I would love for you to personally see it first.”
Jameson rolled his eyes putting out his hand. I handed it over for him to snatch away scanning the title. He glared at me for a moment before scanning the rest of the article with a glare set poker face. A tense time later he put the article away from his nose to hand it back still wearing his poker face,
“Get rid of that cheesy title and that copyrighted picture and get me an on sight photo and you’ve got yourself publication kid.”
Jameson smiled briefly at my big grin before going back to his frown making a brush hand movement to get out of his office. As I walked out he called me back,
“Keep giving me stories like that Miller and you’ve got a job here.”
I laughed shutting the door behind me pulling out my phone.
“Jenny you just got me my first publication.”
And thank you Thor for dropping your hammer in the middle of the New Mexico desert, I thought.
That night with the promise of my article getting published, I thought and wanted to sleep a Loki-less sleep with Cameron – who had stayed the night - resting next to me. He had received good news that day too from his internship. Over the week he had been helping considerably at The Times along with reporting on small events that were happening around New York, each one being published on their website and in the paper itself. It was only, what I thought, I matter of time when Cameron would get the job.
So when he told me The Times had hired him, while I wasn’t surprised I was still excited for him squealing with delight when he told me,
“Oh my god I’m so happy for you! When do you start? Y’know officially?”
His board smile was so bright it made my heart want to burst,
He had gripped my hands in his grasp still with the brightest of smiles,
“And it could be a permanent thing Louisa and I want this,” he said kissing my cheek with a feather touch of his lips. His eyes soft when they glazed at me again,
“This, being you and I. I want this to be permanent.”
It was then when I watched Cameron get down on one knee and my heart leaped up to my throat,
“Louisa Jane Miller, I love you so much and I don’t want to live another day without you in my life. Please, will you marry me?”
Babbling like an idiot I said yes and kissed my now fiancée’s lips tasting his tears of happiness on my lips as he did with mine.
I was so happy and so over the moon I went to sleep not worrying of Loki interrupting my dreams. I thought my dreams would be of what I believed my future with Cameron would hold.
But unfortunately for me I was given another dream.
I found myself on a balcony overlooking what I gathered from the golden glow was Asgard, the Bifröst glowing and glittering in the horizon. Knowing now that Loki would be next to me I watched the God looking over the landscape with a smile on his face holding Odin’s shaft.
I could feel how proud and glad he was. It almost felt as though he was gloating with pleasure.
Before I could wonder why he was interrupted by a guard. Like with the dream the night before their conversations was mute, though I gathered it didn’t please Loki. He snarled marching away his green cap thrashing behind himself. My dream-self shadowed him all the way thorough the golden palace down to a basement.
The room was eerily dark and threatening, the only lights were flames from the touches and the white glowing patterned wall that was at the very front of the room. I looked around seeing in each corner there was some sort of object or weapon, each different from the last. When we reached the front of the room I looked around at Loki, his chest heaving under his armour, his green eyes darting around the room with stress.
“Loki what’s going on?” I asked worried. I thought I heard the sound of a snarl but it was quickly covered by a clearing of the throat as he slammed Odin’s shaft on the floor loudly, the sound echoing around the room making me jump with fright. The bright patterned wall parted and moved blinding me from seeing what had stepped out. Loki’s velvet voice was the only thing I could sense,
“Ensure my brother does not return.”
Opening my eyes I grunted at the early morning sun glowing into my eyes looking to my alarm clock. The time I saw sent me into panic waking me up straight away rushing Cameron and myself out the door.
When I got to the Bugle twenty minutes late (with a plain bagel hanging out my mouth like an animal) I thought I was going to be greeted with congratulations from my fellow interns and journalists. Instead I found myself walking into an ordinary day, like the article I wrote the other day didn’t exist.
Confused I picked up at the day’s Daily Bugle and flipped through it only to find tributes to the individuals that had died at the Stark Expo and the usual Daily Bugle articles; mine was nowhere to be seen. Panicked I then searched the Daily Bugle’s New site, the same response no matter what I typed in.
I had stormed over to Jameson’s door buzzing with angered adrenaline and about to complain when Betty stood in my way.
“I’m sorry Louisa but Mr Jameson’s in a meeting right now –"
I sighed heavy glaring at her, “Ok, maybe you can tell me what the hell happened to my article then.”
She pressed her lips together, her blue eyes not meeting mine,
“I’m sorry Louisa but it got lost.”
My heart jumped,
“Are you fucking kidding me?! What do you mean it got fucking lost?!”
“Louisa I’d appreciate –“
“No! I want answers dammit! I worked really hard on that!”
She had sighed heavy,
“When we went to publish it we couldn’t find it on our database –“
“But that database is secure!”
She sighed heavy again looking fatigued, like she had heard a number of people ranting the same rant,
“I know. So we looked on your files too trying to get it…”
I predicted the rest of the sentence with a tight jaw,
“It wasn’t there either.”
She nodded, “I’m sorry Louisa, did you make a back-up?”
My heart, which at that point was pretty low, sank even further,
“No I didn’t. I trusted the D.B. system clearly too much.”
Betty touched my arm lightly,
“So did Jonah. The meeting he’s in at the moment –“
She nudged with her head to Jameson office,
“-Is with I.T about the databases we’ve got here at the Bugle. He’s just as upset as you are Louisa. He really wanted to publish that article you sent to him.”
“So is he going to be mad at me for not keeping a back-up?”
As mad as I am with myself about not keeping one, I thought at that moment wishing I could hit myself repetitively with my own version of Mjolnir for my stupidity.
She raised her eyebrows,
“No because your “satellite” story is old news now if you can call it that.”
“Well there’s no talk of it on the televised news or through other newspaper publications.”
“How? There’s a massive carter in the New Mexico desert! How can something that big be covered up?!”
“Louisa, have you thought that maybe your source is a little….?”
“Jenny isn’t crazy.” I had cut her off, my eyes probably feeling like piercing blue daggers,
“She’s volunteering down there at a local primary school and saw, with a whole lot of other locals, a ’satellite’ before people from what she thought was the government, turned up. There are more people who know of this then just Jenny.”
Betty had sighed heavy,
“Look Louisa I’m sorry about your story but do you have anything else you could report on?”
I rolled my eyes,
“Yeah, but I don’t know if that’ll do much.” I said thinking of the Tesseract article.
She smiled apologetic like she almost knew I didn’t want to continue writing that,
“It’s better than nothing right?”
Fuck you unsecure database, I thought as I walked away calling Cameron to tell him of the bad news. He was devastated as I was angry at the IT department allowing for me to rant for a while till I decided I needed to get back to work.
The rest of the morning I particularly spent scratching my head for new ideas besides the Tesseract thing. I contemplated talking about over the troubles of over-analysing dreams but
I didn’t really have a wider interest in dreams except for my own weird ones.
What if those dreams aren’t dreams? I thought,
What if they’re visions?
What if Loki’s trying to talk to me again…?
I rolled my eyes focusing my thoughts on other more plausible things that didn’t make my head or heart hurt as much as researching the Tesseract thing.
Near twelve o’clock with a horribly written article constructed with everything I stood against (conspiracies), Jenny rang again,
“Hey partner in crime, how’s –?"
“Y’know that time in high school when we were really drunk and you told everyone about the Asgardian body guard Loki told you about when you were a kid?” She rushed out as a hello interrupting me.
“And how you said it looked like some silver robot?”
“And how we didn’t believe you cause there wasn’t any facts in any literature on Vikings saying so?”
“Well, I believe you now ‘cause it’s walking it’s way towards the town right this second.”
A ruffling is heard on the other line, an older man’s voice telling everyone to hurry along.
“How do you know it’s Asgardian?” I ask hearing Jenny run out of some area.
“Because the ‘satellite’ according to you was actually Mew-Mew-“
“Whatever; same shit. So what’s it to say it’s not Asgardian now?”
“It could be one of Stark’s…”
“Louisa, Mike is a massive fan of Stark’s and I know Iron Man suits when I see them. And that isn’t an Iron Man suit.”
Jenny grunted in the tense silence that had followed,
“Look do you want page one or what?”
With a shrug I grabbed my pen and notebook from my bag,
The phone conversation was extremely short because she accidently hung up on me, but I still had enough to write the first part of my exclusive. Jenny had told me what it had looked like along with the vibe the town was under.
I texted her to ring me back on the details when she could and I started typing up the first half.
Twenty minutes later a very happy but shaky Jenny rang back describing some supernatural battle had just taken place. She apparently had hidden in some nearby shop in front of all the violence and was able to not only say in depth every detail but record it on her phone. I was filled in on The Destroyer trashing Puente Antiguo and attacking oddly dressed individualswho looked as they were trying to help.
“The Warriors Three.” I mumbled grinning ear to ear,
“Was Sif there?”
I had rolled my eyes remembering that Jenny's mind was some place else when we studied Vikings in high school,
“Was there a woman dressed oddly too?”
“Ah…yeah, there was…”
I giggled telling her to continue. I was then told about some huge guy walking up to the Destroyer before getting slapped across the face.
“I seriously thought he was dead with his girlfriend – well I thought she was he’s girlfriend anyway – crying over him. But then something flew towards him and he caught it and something weird happened making him change…”
I scribbled “THOR” in big letters again telling my friend to continue.
“Well, yeah then a massive storm causing some sort of freak-hurricane-thing and then the next minute it was destroyed with the changed guy now dressed as weirdly as the other four people.”
“Some bald guy in a suit turned up and spoke to him before the guy just flew off with his girlfriend.”
“Ok, I need you to send that video to my phone stat.”
“Sure. Hey, am I going to get credit for this?”
I laugh, “Of course. I’ll send you half of my pay check.”
“Maybe I should be a journalist…”
“Well if you keep getting me stories like this for sure. Now send me this video.”
“See ya Jenny.”
She hung up then after saying goodbye, I cheered in triumph typing like mad. The video arrived five minutes later which I watched repetitively for the next hour as I wrote.
An hour and a half later I was again rushing to Jameson’s door to knock frantically. Betty though was there to greet me standing in the way with a wide smile on her face.
“Got another article for us Louisa?” She asked over the thunderstorm outside,
I nod tightly, “Yep.”
“Backed it up?”
I held up my USB stick with a wider smile,
“Yep! Can I see -?”
She opened the door for me announcing me to Jonah; his hand had lashed out ready to take the article. I gave it to him smiling at him; I got a raised eyebrow before he began scanning the article. A short while later he put it down on his desk pressing a button on his desk phone, my heart panicking in my chest.
“Come in here.”
Betty rushed in seconds’ later smiling polity at her boss, “Yes Mr Jameson?”
He handed up my article to her,
“Give this tothe printing guys and tell him to scrap that crappy page one article and to put this one in place.”
“Really?!” I yelled.
Betty took it with a tight nod to Jameson, a small ‘congratulations’ grin aimed at me as she walked.
I watched the Editor-in-Chief smirk at me,
“How would you like to be one of my reporters Miller?”
“I would love –“
“Good because you’ve just got the job here kid.”
“You’re kidding! Really?”
“Never been more serious, we need journalists like you Miller.”
I had laughed nervously not really sure how to deal with all this good news,
“Oh my God this –“
He brushed his hand the smirk had fallen, “Get out.”
I had laughed again, “Thank you Mr Jameson.”
He had smiled a very rare warm smile at me,
“Don’t make me regret it Miller.”
“I won’t, don’t you worry.”
As I was walking out with a massive smile on my face I suddenly became dizzy. The way I’ve explained it to others is that it was like I was extremely drunk and couldn’t see or walk. All I remember was I feel over and stumbled to the ground losing conscience, Betty and Jonah reacting.
Then the next moment I found myself suspended somewhere looking down at the Bifröst. Loki was there with Mjolnir sitting on top of him, Thor not that far away was straggling towards a globe like building glaring at the brightness it was giving. My eyes though were forced on Loki watching him struggling to get Thor’s hammer off his chest, his compressed howls evident he clearly still was not worthy enough to raise the hammer like his brother.
As I watched him struggle I heard Thor making the same noises as he walked towards the bright destruction my eyes were not permitted to witness.
Loki was watching his older brother sitting up slightly but still being held down by Mjolnir, an amused but hideous smile on his face as he watched Thor struggle,
“Look at you,” He snarled, his voice holding arrogance,
“Mighty Thor!” He panted out, the hideous smile spreading larger across his face.
“With all strength –“He grunted panting, the weight of Mjolnir weighing him down,
“- and what good does it do you now, ha?!” He grunts, his helmeted head hitting the Bifröst with a slam. Although he doesn’t give up still taunting the God of Thunder,
“DO YOU HEAR ME BROTHER?! THERE’S NOTHING YOU CAN DO!”
It seems then I was allowed to look over to Thor then only to watch him, with defeated eyes outstretch his arm catching Mjolnir as it flew into his hand. I watch him take a deep breathe in and swing his arm down on to the bridge to cause a loud cracking sound. He then started destroying the bridge, each hit making me heart thud. Loki sat up slowly than watching his face showing pain and distress, his eyes watering.
“What are you doing?!” He yells over to his brother outstretching his arm like a plea.
I could fell his heart beat like it was my own, images of my nine year old self sleeping with a little smile on my face flash across my eyes. Thor slamming into the bridge again just as another vision of her opening her tired eyes smiling touching Loki’s face gently. Loki and my heart throbs at the memory just as he felt other emotions, dread and angst on Thor’s actions, Odin flashing across my mind feeling Loki’s panic.
“IF YOU DESTROY THE BRIDGE YOU’LL NEVER SEE HER AGAIN!” Loki screams in desperation. At that moment another vision of me though as a teenager, this memory was distant and from a bird eyes view. I was in a tight ball under my covers, tears streaming down my face,
“Loki come back. …Please Loki come back.”
With angered teary eyes and a panicking heart he gets up rushing over to his brother. I watched his staff outstretched to hurt his brother as I struggled in the constringes I was captive in to stop Thor from making a big mistake.
“Forgive me Jane…” Thor pleaded slamming the hammer down once more just as Loki jumps with a battle cry, the bridge shuttering loudly with the sound of broken glass and the thundering clash of water covering my screams.
I wish that was all I had seen but it wasn’t.
I felt then like I was falling, the heavy pit of vertigo jolting my stomach and my vision that was still being affected by the bright light of the destruction. Scared I crawled at the nothing somehow grabbing something cold and metal jolting up feeling relief but still fright.
My vision came back scaring me, my breathing heavy as I looked next to me. Loki was there panting heavy looking up at to what had caught him with a look of relief but also fright.
Something I didn’t have an interest for, my eyes only on my ex-Prince. He was so close, his green cape I used to hide under as a child flapping on the tips of my flats, his strong smell tickling my nose. I watched his arm shaking as his hands began to slip, the panic I felt was my own that Loki would slip down into the nothingness. I could feel my cheeks becoming wet with tears glazing on at my frightened ex-Prince.
He glanced at me then, his expression worried and concerned. The glance at that moment in time felt like Loki was more scared for me watching him hanging there as his hand slipping down the shaft. He swallows lowering his eyebrows, his green eyes brave for those couple of seconds. It was almost like he was letting me know he was going to be ok. And I believed that look, just like I always had as a child trusting his reassurance.
He glazed past his Brother who was making struggling sounds to keep a hold of the shaft and his little Brother’s weight to what was holding the two of them up.
“I could have done it Father!” Loki cried almost like it was in desperation.
“FOR YOU! For all of us!” He cries, Loki’s voice breaking at the end, his green eyes almost pleading.
I wanted to turn then and look at Odin’s face but like previously with Thor, my neck wouldn’t turn to look up to where Odin was probably holding his sons.
Loki face looked shocked and hurt broken, his eyes searching into his Father’s for something. He’s eyebrows lower and almost like he made his decision, I watch his tight grip on the shaft begin to relax.
“No! Loki please don’t! Please!” Thor and I pleaded at the same time, Loki’s eyes never once looking away from his Father as he let go of Gungnir and fell.
NotesThe look Loki gives to Louisa is at 5.53 of THIS video. The look is probably Loki’s fright of bits of the Bifröst falling on him or Tom checking for his safety but eh.
As you probably can tell this is the longest chapter (after Chapter 6). This chapter also has most context heavy in regards to Loki. I still wanted Loki to have the motivations he has the first Thor movie (for his Father to see him as worthy), but also feel like he wanted to find Louisa again.
Also, to all the Spider-Man fans out there, Yes, I know in 2011 Jonah (in the comics) was no longer the Chief Editor of the Daily Bugle – he was the mayor of New York.And to all the cinematic fans out there, I put the Bugle in there because I like to think that even though Spiderman isn’t in the same universe as the Avengers (insert massive-“but-he-should-be”- rant) the newspaper still exists even though it hasn’t be addressed by the movies (yet – I hope it does).
But besides all that, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Let me know what you think!