Tom Hiddleston and Loki Imagines - Bk. 1

Tom and Loki - Nightmare, Pt. 5

"Petrus," you whispered to your son, gently shaking him. "Petrus, wake up."

"Mommy?" your four-year-old says with a yawn. You take off the covers, pick him up in your arms, and carry him over to his closet.

"Shh. You need to get dressed."

"But why?"

"Because need to leave." Still sleepy, Petrus lets out another yawn, rubbing his eyes as he does so. You scramble through his closet, throwing down whatever suitable and comfortable clothes you could find.

"Please put something on."

"Does Daddy know?"

"No, but it doesn't matter. I really need you to get dressed." As your son moved too slowly, you got down on your knees and rushed a shirt over his head. Stuffing his arms into another jacket, you wasted no time.

"But Mommy—"

"Shh. We need to be very quiet once we leave the room."

"Can I bring Mr. Snuffles?" You smile. Your son never left the palace without bringing his stuffed animal. One good thing about Loki: he did almost anything to see Petrus smile.

"Yes, go ahead." With new-found energy, your son skips along to his bed, his black curls bouncing with him.

You sigh. You had wished for your baby to be a spitting image of Tom, something to bring you comfort, something to cause envy to sink further into Loki's heart and remind him that the person he was nurturing was the one he allowed to slip away from you. But, as if to punish you, your son was a mix between the two: Loki's black hair, smile, and intelligence, Tom's curls, eyes, energy, and laugh. It was as if your feelings, whether previous or current, were blended into one, your son made of love.

If only he knew the love of his father.

Petrus returns to you, Mr. Snuffles fast in his hand. Picking him up, you hold him close to your chest and kiss his head.

"Absolute silence now, Petrus." With that, you slowly open the door and run with silent feet.

Earlier that day, you had prepared a boat on the water, and to that you made your way. You had planned this escape for years, calculating every detail in your head. Preparation started a year ago, you getting up in the middle of the night, seeing if Loki woke up and his reactions, both physical and verbal, if such. At first, he was controlling, getting up to accompany you wherever you were going, but soon retreated, only giving you a kiss before you left the room.

You did feel guilty to some degree. A week after he told you the news of Tom, he let you out.

"I don't understand," you had said as he's loosening your bonds. "I thought I had to love you first."