Mischief on Midgard

Waking up

Loki woke up slowly, feeling decidedly dazed and weary as he took in the familiar scents of his room and the spring breeze wafting in from outside. He felt as if he had been dreaming for a long time. Dreaming of an ungodly long journey that had started with his wrists and ankles being bound as he found himself trapped on a tiny world before then traveling the stars seeking to stop... something. That he had been struggling uselessly against those bonds for nearly the entire journey.

Through the sleep-induced haze, he knew that he'd refused the aid of others even as they offered to help him remove those restricting bindings. He'd been left on his own... no, he had gone off on his own. He had wandered for ages until finally asking, terrified of rejection, for help. A request for aid in not only removing those shackles but also help in stopping a mighty Titan who was, in part, responsible for those chains being placed upon Loki in the first place.

Loki sat up slowly, wincing and closing his eyes as the images flashed through his mind's eye. It was almost like watching a play. His... his dream self? He had all but given up hope and yet was lifted from his despair by kind hands. His shackles were shattered, and he glowed with internal power where once there had been darkness. Nothingness. He'd then gone on to join a battle fit for a Historic Epic. One of those tales told to children through the ages to come.

His lips curled up into a faint grin as he opened his eyes to see the very familiar sight of his own bed-curtains drawn in around him. Loki frowned and looked over everything slowly. It was strange. He knew his room like the back of his hand. How could he not, after having spent centuries waking up this way? The rays of sunlight drifting in through the mostly drawn silk curtains covering the windows. The small marks pocking the beams along the raised ceiling. Marks that existed only because of his own antics as a child. The distant sounds of people moving about their daily lives in the palace and the even fainter sounds of the surrounding city.

Was he really awake? Was this the dream instead?

Nothing felt real...

Loki slowly sat up and pushed the blanket from his form. His mind was wrapped in a haze as he stood up. Everything felt off. He stared at his hands and frowned. Today was the day of Thor's coronation... wasn't it? Strange that it felt like those events had occurred ages ago. Loki walked over toward his dresser, his thoughts still dazed as he instinctively dressed in familiar garb of deep greens and gold. The clothing was light as air against his skin, well-suited for an advisor and sorcerer such as he. It certainly helped that it was comfortable and of fine make.

He moved toward the mirror and looked himself over. He frowned. He looked... strange. It didn't feel quite like he was looking at himself. Had he always looked so pale? Had his eyes always looked so... experienced? Haunted? Older?

Partially shaking off the fog wrapped around his mind, he turned and walked toward the door. He was so out of it, so very much on auto-pilot, that he didn't register opening the door and starting down the hall. Had his... dream... been real? Had all of that actually happened? Had he been banished to Midgard? Met the team of Toomes Salvaging Company? Saved Bucky from H.Y.D.R.A.? Joined the Avengers... been caught by Ebony Maw... escaped from that same being? And the Guardians? Getting to know them? Returning home and... feeling so alone and helpless... hopeless. Asking... begging for help... and being believed. People rising up, readying for war at his prompting. Being worthy of his power and having it restored.

Winning the war.

They had won!

Loki paused, one hand reaching to brace against the wall and the other rising to rub at his forehead. Had that... A shout sounded from down the hall. His head jerked up, and he had to blink away spots from his vision.