April 08, 2019
05/15/2019 02:55 PM
Loki Returns To Thor
A reanimated corpse seemed to be the only option and time was running out, so Loki used every fiber of his being to course enough energy through a dead man and throw an illusion on him. He now had a perfect copy of himself created right as Hulk began losing to Thanos. Quickly the God of Mischief hid in a dark corner and made himself invisible, but there was a connection between himself and his false representation that he had not expected. It felt like he was standing there, at the mercy of the enormous titan. As the gigantic hand grab the neck of the faux Loki, the real one felt himself choking and grabbed at his neck, making the struggle feel real as the slaying was taking place. He could feel the crushing of the wind pipe and manage to get out the words, "You will never be a God", before the neck snapped and the connection was broken. Loki was freed from the torture and as he tried to catch his breath, he crawled off and found his footing, running for dear life while the echoing of his brother's sorrow came flooding to his ears. It almost caused him to turn around, but his fear got the better of him. He slipped into an escape pod and whisked away before the great explosion that sent the Asgardians scattering across space. The sight was shocking and the God of Mischief took a moment to let it burn into his memory. Then he turned his vessel and was gone.
He arrived on Midgard and crash landed on the cliff side of Norway where Odin vanished, falling out and dry heaving from the torment he had just endured. He laid there, tears of mourning and anger burning his eyes. He didn't want to care. He wanted to be like his old self, cast out and dwelling on it. He wanted to thrive from the destruction of Asgard, but he couldn't. He was overwhelmed with grief and rage and it weighed him down. He stayed flat against the grass for an hour, his eyes looking out at the ocean where the deceased king's spirit had blown away. He could feel the longing for advice and the guilt entering his heart and soul for abandoning Thor to Thanos. He knew, however, if he had turned back, he would have died and he didn't feel ready to face death and her cold embrace. He had always escaped it. Then a familiar voice came to him. "Are you going to lie there the rest of your days", it asked. Loki pushed himself up and turned to see Odin standing before him. He was having a vision.
"I can't go back"
"You know, when I found you", Odin said with a calmness to his tone. "you were left for dead and yet you refused to die. I always imagined that strength would have more meaning than you have given it." Loki stood up slowly. He was shaken.
"They're all dead. Who am I to save if all is lost?"
"Not all", his adopted father responded. "You give Thor such little credit. He too is a survivor." The God of Mischief lowered his gaze. His trick would live on and he would be a disappointment again. This time, he truly felt sorry for it. It made him frustrated and disgusted with himself. "Is it so hard?", Odin asked. "Is it so hard to admit that you would miss your brother and regret your choices? All of us make mistakes and poor decisions. Why are you not even strong enough to admit your faults? Not even now?" Loki looked up and then shifted around, taking in the scenery.
"This was going to be Asgard, reborn."
"It was", the king responded as he looked around as well. "Still could be, if the two of you could make it so. There's still some Asgardians left. They could be rehomed here, if you are willing to fight for them." Loki stood, bewildered and without words. "Your brother was correct", Odin continued. "You will always be the God of Mischief, but you could be so much more. That little babe that managed to survive the ice and cold is still fighting within you. Where will you focus that strength? In trickery and surviving by deceiving or by facing the enemy and not letting them take what is most important? Life. The lives of our people and those of other worlds. You were meant for more. You have always known it. You just went about it in the wrong way." The frost giant hung his head and as he raised his gaze again to speak, Odin was gone. He was alone again and the breeze picked up. It was as if his adopted father had been blown away again and Loki sighed. He could feel a fire burning inside of him. He had to finally face death and what comes of it is his true destiny.
Loki landed the pod in Wakanda and found the shields down and the place in a state of crisis. Monsters were overflowing and great machines of death were pushing through the opposing army, turning them to mush as they rolled along. The imagery was terrifying, but the God had found something deep within himself to remain. These were not his people, but he still owed them something. It was then that Thor appeared with a great axe of lightning in his hand. He smashed into the ground and sent villains flying. It was like a memory recreated right before Loki's eyes. His brother's presence sending the battle in a different direction. A brief smile crossed his face. He had missed moments like this, knowing they were the best at war. He took to running, drawing blades and slashing down creatures left and right, moving swiftly and effortlessly through the fighting masses. The mischief maker wanted to get close to his brother and once again, fight side by side with him, but the amount of people in the battle kept a distance between them. Then Loki saw a gigantic beast behind Thor with a mighty sword. The God of Thunder was not sensing him.
Loki jumped up on the backs of men and monster and ran across them as if he weighed nothing and leapt in the direction of Thor, passing over him and colliding into the enemy. Both fell to the ground and the frost giant shifted to his icy form, summoning an ice blade into his hand and ran it through the beast's throat. He could feel the resistance of muscle and tissue, but as blood poured fourth, he knew he had defeated the creature that had almost bashed his brother down. Still blue with violently red eyes, Loki stood and faced Thor while breathing deeply. The run had exhausted him.
The yelling and screaming around them seemed to mean nothing in that moment.
"I can explain. I'm not afraid anymore. I'm not afraid to face the end and I'm not afraid to truly be me."
He dropped his blood soaked weapon.
"And I admit it without fear. I have missed you, brother."
It was then that the winds changed and the fighting seemed to stop. Thanos was arriving.
"We should face him together. Let him see he failed with me and he will fail today. Let us do this together, like when we were young."
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04/08/2019 11:44 PM
Loki found himself sitting on an island, taking in the fresh breeze, but despising the heat. As a frost giant, the sweltering temperature was like torture. Still the calm of the ocean was soothing. He had taken over Asgard under the disguise of Odin. It was rare he could take he actual form and just relax as himself. He watched the water erode away the sand in front of him and he sighed. He didn't want to fight for the nine realms. He just wanted to live as a King, with all the positivity and worship that came with it. He had let the realms govern themselves, but it was falling into chaos. He was entirely aware that the people were incapable of caring for themselves and when Odin was truly in power, peace seemed to reign supreme. Loki had idolized that ideal, but after his fall from grace, his anger and resentment governed his decisions. Now he just wanted to be waited on and not do all the things he had studied so intensely to be. Still, sitting on the sand, enduring the tropical sun, he felt a touch of guilt. It was his mother. Her death was his fault and she had always had faith in him to be a good person and to be a great leader. He was failing her memory and all she taught him. His arrogance was getting the better of him and in that moment, he let his guard down for a second, allowing his emotions to consume him. He was a relic for Odin and a beloved son for his Freya, but caused her demise.
It didn't take long for him to snap out of it. People were summoning Odin for his daily play over the false story of Loki's death. He stood, brushing off the sand from his leather trousers and waved his hand. A green light surrounded him and in a flash, he had transformed into his adopted father, complete with eye patch. He strolled to the ship he had used to find the abandoned island and steered over the crystal blue waters back to the gilded palace. He was received with love, but it wasn't for the real him. It was for who they thought he was. There was an emptiness inside him that inspired his mischief and chaos. All he wanted was to fill the void, but the routine of watching his play wasn't doing enough. Neither were the drinks and food given to him by beautiful women, who doted on him with pride. Something was missing, but he didn't dare admit it. If he said it out loud, it would be real and his disguise would fade, but he missed Thor. He missed the sibling rivalry between the pair and he did, in his own way, accept him as his real brother. Watching the show while laying in fine silks and being hand fed made him happy, but not enough. He was lacking the family dynamic that existed before Thor was declared heir to the throne. He missed those days, when the future was a mystery and being a frost giant was unknown to him. Still he couldn't complain about his current situation.
When the play ended, he went into the throne room and sat magnificently, holding the mighty staff of Odin. People came to complain of the down fall of other realms, but he waved them off. He wondered how the real Odin was fairing in the old folks home on Midgard. He tried to pick the best one to keep the King of Asgard comfortable. He never checked in. He didn't want to face his dark works. He wanted to move on to living comfortably and hoping to fill the void with the glorious lifestyle of being in charge of Asgard.
In the evening times, he would retreat to his room and shake his disguise. He would sit by the window sill and mourn his mother. He never healed from that wound and he wondered if Thor had to. His brother was living in Midgard, surrounded by mortal woman who adored him. Loki felt rage, thinking that the blonde God might not even consider anymore the loss, to captivated by his own glory and worship by the world he chose over his own. This needed to be dealt with, so Thor would know the agony that haunted his younger brother, but to everyone, Loki had died. It would take a clever plot to remind the God of Thunder of what he was missing. The God of Mischief would have to take on a different disguise to trick and break the heart of Midgard's golden hero.
Loki used his master of disguise to appear as a woman on Midgard, behaving as if he was infatuated with Thor. Tall with dark hair and pale skin, he still resembled himself in a manner of speaking, but he knew his brother was dumb enough to fall for it. All the attention the God of Thunder was receiving was going to his head and being as he thought the God of Chaos and Mischief had died, he would never suspect he was being led to a sorrowful conversation. As the young girls swarmed him, Loki hung back, trying to seem aloof and mysterious. He knew Thor had recent been left by his beloved, so someone with a touch of wonder would be decent bait. Of course, the golden haired Asgardian fell for the frost giant's plot and approached. "Would you care for a selfie?", he asked and the faux minx gave a small smile.
"I would adore it!"
He presented a mobile to take the pictures.
"But how can you be so gleeful? Not thinking of your ex, but of your mother. I heard a rumor that she had passed violently. Aren't you still in mourning over such a tragic loss?"
Thor paused. He seemed to be taken over by guilt and the mischievous grin took over Loki's face. He swiftly made his amusement vanish and pretended to feel sorry for bringing up such pain. "She was a wonderful woman", Thor responded, taking the phone to prepare for the selfies. "I am at a loss." The false fan patted his shoulder and smiled for a picture with the hero of Midgard before resuming the melancholy disposition. She took back the mobile and pocketed it. She crossed her arms, giving a slight expression of judgment.
"You don't seem at a loss. You are thriving here on Earth. How are you mourning? Is it in private?"
Thor scratched his head. These were difficult questions to come from a stranger. He looked at his feet. "I have been wrong to take in all this love", he remarked. "Perhaps I should visit my home and speak with my father over the passing of my mother." This was not what Loki wanted, so he had to change angles.
"Would you prefer to do a vigil here? You have so many fans."
Thor looked up. It was almost as if he could sense something was off, but Loki supposedly being dead made it so the two wouldn't fight. "A vigil has already been done", he responded. The minx shifted a little.
"But not here. What about an old ritual in her honor?"
There was silence. Norse rituals were coming back, but were not the norm. It would be seen as wicked to do such a ritual out in the open. Thor crossed his arms. "I don't think that is possible", he replied. "You mortals have a way of twisting things to be evil when they are meant for good." Loki tried his best to be flirting, though he felt he might heave in the process.
"I wouldn't make it evil. I would be there for you."
Loki showed up for the scheduled ritual, waiting to see if Thor would carry through. When he appeared, his fans seemed a little nervous. There was a boat filled with flammable materials, made memorials for Freya, and a pit of flames, awaiting an arrow to set the vessel a blaze. The gilded God drug the boat to the waters of a local river. "Odin, All Father!", Thor began to declare. "Hear me and honor this gift to my departed mother, our beloved queen." The people around them shifted, being uncomfortable. Loki watched. He knew what was happening. So many of the fans were not thinking of the golden haired man as a God. They just thought of him as attractive and capable of saving them. They were not prepared for what came with Asgard. Thor paused and turned around. "I cannot do this", he declared. "I cannot bring to these people our ways. I have wronged those who have showed such appreciation for my actions by forcing them to participate in something only Asgard would carry out." The mystery woman covered her mouth, trying to hide her expression as a joint sigh of relief was expelled from the crowd. "I thank you all, my new and dear friends", the God of Thunder continued. "I thank you with all my glory for your support and love." The girls ran to him, fawning over him again. This displeased Loki and he walked away, wishing he wasn't in a dress. He wanted to show himself as he was and punch his brother in his face. "Where are you going, dear woman?", Thor asked. The dark haired illusion turned around.
"Somewhere that has brave men who dare to show their hearts and faith without fear. You reek of fear."
Loki walked off, annoyed. He felt his brother did not miss their mother as he did. He had wrath within him that people often discredited. He wanted more to be done for Freya's memory. He wanted Thor to pine as he did, but the crowd of new and potential bed fellows distracted the older brother and it infuriated the younger. Once out of sight, he turned back into himself with a flash of green light and commanded the bifrost to take him home. There he would shift back into Odin and be grateful his brother did not follow. He found himself alone again, but this time, he wasn't so lonely. He found himself loathing Thor more than before. There was a void and he filled it with sexual partners. Loki was trying to fill it with a twisted version of an old dream, but nothing could chase away what he had been through. Nothing could erase what he had done.
When he returned to the the throne, more people complained about the realms falling into havoc. He ignored them and waved them away. He attended once again his play and enjoyed the music and drama of his trickery being portrayed before him. He took wine and fruit and tried to hide, as Odin, his anger as himself. Thor was wrapped up in Midgard. It was not the splendid image of a hero that the Asgardian people had painted of him. The heir to the throne was consumed by his new life and it was slowly erasing the emotions that were meant to be there. "You are the more sensitive one" was something Freya always said, but Loki believed everyone should remain sorrowful to lose their queen to the dark elves. There should be anger still in their hearts. Loki debated a new play, ordered by him as Odin, to show the fall of the Queen and remind the people of the gracious heart and fierce warrior they had lost. He loved watching himself, but his arrogance only went so far. Freya was his weakness. He wanted his mother to be praised daily.
There was only one showing of the new play dedicated to Freya. It was long and the music and actors did a dark, but marvelous job at recreating her death and then her funeral. As Odin, he remained quiet until the end. When all fell silent, he slowly applauded and stood, giving the people an opportunity to give credit to the performers. Then he raised a hand to silence the crowd.
"This show will not be shown again."
"This was worthy of her. May she, your beloved Queen, live in your heart. Do not forget her. The Loki play will continue on, but Freya's - Freya's will be done with now. We have relived it. Let it echo in your spirits. Let her songs sing to your hearts."
The people bowed their head in mourning and the King left, silent. He went to his room and shut the door. Alone, he threw his furniture and broke his bed with his fists. He turned into himself and wanted to scream again and again. He blamed himself over everyone. He killed his mother, his only truest supporter. He couldn't bear the guilt. It was eating him up from the inside, turning him more dark and losing his sense of heart. He wanted now only to celebrate himself . Only to recognize his greatness. He wanted to push the memory away. He wanted to no longer mourn her. He wanted no weakness. He was Loki of Asgard, now King Odin, the All Father. He had to be the greatness he always thought he would be. He had to not care anymore and embrace the frigged heart of a frost giant. He was the God of Mischief. He needed to be proud.
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