A Future of our Own

Asgard - Loki

Loki felt sick to his stomach, his insides churned uncomfortably and everything ached as he moved.

In his dazed state, it took him a while to notice that he wasn't shifting on the hard-tiled floor of the science lab but was instead curled up in a large bed and covered by a silk smooth, emerald green sheet.

Pressing a hand to his head to try and suppress the throbbing in his temples, he sat up slowly and looked around the room, his eyebrows furrowing.

He had expected to find himself back in his dorm room, the sheets pooling at his waist the same colour as the ones on his bed, until it gradually dawned on him that the bed he was currently led in was significantly larger than the one in his academy dorm room.

The more confusing part for Loki wasn't that he wasn't in his dorm room, it was the fact that he was in his bedroom back in Asgard.

Sure, bits and pieces here or there looked different somehow, but he knew for certain that this was his room back home.

Ignoring his sore head, Loki carelessly tossed the sheet away and got up unsteadily to his feet.

It took a moment's pause for his world to stop spinning so that he could stand up without swaying, his stomach once again flipping in protest.

He waited with closed eyes for the queasiness to fade before slowly opening them, taking a deep breath to try and sate his body's stubbornness at trying to hinder him.

It was only then that he took notice of what he had been wearing.

Apparently, after whatever had happened, he had been put to bed fully clothed, only in clothes that looked more akin to the kind of armour he was used to seeing his father wearing.

Gone was his typical long green jacket with the fur collar and gold trimming, now he seemed to be wearing something more akin to black and a darker green leather with thinner gold trimming.

He wrinkled his nose a little, not entirely sure what he thought of this new attire but pushing it aside to get to the bottom of things.

Striding away from the bed, he made the decision to head outside to investigate rather than inspect the differences in the room.

On his way to the door, Loki passed a tall mirror that he didn't recall ever having in his room.

At first, he paid it no further heed, that was until something sparked and his attention was drawn to a minor factor as to why his room and clothes.

Loki stepped back to the mirror and stood in front of it, his eyes roaming over the reflection as bits and pieces clicked further into place.

Moving closer, he placed one hand on the wall beside the painted mirror frame to give himself balance to lean forward and inspect himself closer.

It didn't matter how long he looked or what angle he turned, there was no way to avoid the dawning realization.

He was staring at himself.

Only it was an adult rendition of himself.

"What in all of Bifrost?" He asked, taking in the details of his older and more matured face.

A banging at the door disrupted his moment of contemplation and disturbed him completely, especially when the door open and a serving girl ran inside and curtseyed deeply.

"My Prince, do pardon my interruption but it's urgent."

"Right," he said, giving her a disgruntled look, "so out with it."

She straightened herself and looked at him with a look of utter surprise before recovering quickly.

"I have been sent from the infirmary to inform you that your wife is healthy and ready for visitors."

The girl bowed again before rushing back out like she had no more time in the world.

"Wife?" Loki frowned.

His eyes drifted down to his left hand.

Slowly lifting it, he caught the glint of gold on his ring finger and his heart skipped a few beats.

If it were possible, his skin turned even paler and his blood ran colder.

"Oh shit."