Sherloki'd ✓completed

Let It go (ft. Loki Cumberston)

Loki's head was spinning as he ran out of the room, into the maze of passages that made up the mansion.

He shook his head, Laufey's earlier words still ringing in his ears.

If you stay here long enough, your memories of the other dimension could start fading.

He ran through the passages, not sure where he was going, trying to dispel the voices in his head. Voices of people he was supposed to know — knowledge which he doubted more with every passing second.

What do you know about Frost Giants?

They're just myths.

He turned a corner, almost sliding to the ground with the momentum but just regaining his balance.

Other dimensions leave... scars.

The illusion of his suit faded away, revealing his muddy shirt and shorts — it had been costing him too much energy to keep it up, and the illusion was unnecessary now anyway.

Things are slightly different in this universe, so you have to double check all your facts. You can't take anything for granted, not even things you thought you knew about yourself.

He kept running, the speed at which his blood pumped through his veins stopping him from panicking.

You're not immortal, you know.

He stopped in front of the old wooden door.

He hadn't actively decided to come here, but at the same time he'd known that this was where he'd been headed all along.

The cellar.

If there was one thing that could truly tell Loki who he was now, it was the Casket of Ancient Winters.

He breathed in, pushing open the ancient door. It creaked so loudly that Loki cringed, but he forced it open anyway. There was nobody to be seen.

He left the door open, descending the stairs behind it slowly.

As if in a dream, he looked around. His eyes adjusted to the darkness quickly, and he instantly saw the similarities to Odin's vault back on Asgard. The Eternal Flame was there, represented by a single candle. Clearly fake. The Tesseract, by a blue LEGO block, and a lot smaller than it should be. Then some sort of wooden carving of a ram's head, which was rather weakly done.  And a golden glove of some sort, which wasn't too bad.

And then what he'd come for — the Casket of Ancient Winters.

If he'd started thinking that the Casket would be as fake as the rest of the relics, that thought was dispelled on sight. It sat majestically on its pedestal, giving off a soft blue glow. Perfect to the last detail; he could already feel its power just by looking at it.

So then why was he hesitating?

He closed his eyes, mentally going through what was about to happen. He was going to touch the Casket, his arms were going to turn blue, and then slowly the rest of him would turn blue too as he reverted to Frost Giant form. Simple, right?

For a moment he considered planning what he'd do if nothing happened, but to be honest he really didn't want to consider the possibility at all.

Loki took a deep breath, and, trembling slightly, reached out to grab the Casket of Ancient Winters.

His fingers felt the cool, rough surface, and he closed his eyes, half-expecting to hear Odin's voice behind him, telling him to stop, to let it go.