LOKI IMAGINES

Cheers to Victory

Raise yer pints to Odin
One who gave us strength!
Tis' Asgard the land of merry men!

We'll drink our wine,
We'll raise our glasses,
To our fallen friends and dirty asses!

Home is near, war is done!
Our spirits renewed, never broken!
When we serve under our king Odin!

The merry singing of all the soldiers echoed throughout the forest. Their loud voices either shaking the trees with their volume or urging the mundane fellows to swing and dance along to their cheery song.

You could hear them very clearly from the roof of the tavern you were sat on. In your hands were a bottle of ale you managed to take from the table before the soldiers came flooding in to take one of their own.

After days of battle, all you wanted was peace.

It was not the fact that you weren't used to war and bloodshed, you definitely were considering your past career was being a hitman. Sometimes all you wanted is to curl up in someplace warm and cozy, where the only sound you'll hear is the crackle of the fire and the chirping of the birds. But for now, the sounds of the crickets, howling wolves and wind would suffice.

You took a mighty swig of ale while staring at the beautiful full moon before your sight. The skies were clear of clouds and the stars twinkled brightly at you. You unconsciously smiled, remembering the simpler times of your childhood. You used to star gaze while laying on your roof most evenings. It especially got you into major trouble if you were meant to be in bed.

“I hope you don't mind,” said the God of Mischief who was making his way through the window to also sit on the roof.

“Need some help?” you asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“No.” He answered, but his state proved otherwise.

You watched him try to squeeze himself through the window with a slight teasing grin on your face.

He managed to come out with difficulty, padding himself before sitting next to you. He had rolled his eyes at your smile, more from fondness than annoyance.

“Want some?” You showed him your bottle of ale.

He shook his head.

You leaned in to take a whiff of his breath which Loki found incredibly weird. But when have you ever been cordial? You were raised by men, sloppy men. Your mother had died before you could walk. Your father did his best to raise you while working a full time job. Sometimes, his mates would babysit you if he had more work to do.

“Ah. That's because you've already had some,” you said, taking a big gulp of that sickly sweet and thick drink.

“Yes. Thor forced me to stay and chat.”

“What'd you talk about?”

Loki stiffened. “Nothing of importance.” He could hear Thor's thunderous laughter as he tells his brother to do unspeakable things. Like confess his l undying love to you. Even to ask you to stay with him in the palace once this blows over.

You grinned. “Alright, mischief. Whatever you say.” You had an inkling that he was lying, that he was hiding something. But you trusted him not to betray you. Not after the blood and gore you both went through this damned war.