Chapter Text
It had always fascinated him, the way time seemed to run so differently between the Realms. And nothing showed this the same way as the relation between Asgard and Midgard. They never seemed to be running on the same time. He could spend an hour on Asgard then return to Midgard only to discover he had been gone a decade. Or he could spend a century on Asgard yet arrive on Midgard, finding no more than a day had passed.
Thor, he liked to count his years in accordance with Midgard's rotations around its sun. Many of the gods did. It made them feel important. Special. He, he had always found that way of thinking so limiting. But it was expected, so he did. Even though it wouldn't have made any sense. Because he would have to have existed before he was born. Now knowing his true origins, it made far more sense.
Idly he wondered what the people of Midgard would think if they knew he had always loved their Realm far more than Thor ever had. Not that it mattered anymore.
Loki allowed himself to be herded along. Wondering idly what kind of punishment he would have to face this time. They would have to get creative, or else they ran the risk of repeating themselves. He held no illusions that his so-called father would bother listen to him. The man had always been selfish. It was a wonder that Thor wasn't even more boorish than he already was.
"I will speak with the prisoner alone", the All-Father said. Meaning, of course, his wife and son. His real son. The guards, they remained. "Well, Silvertongue. Speak."
"Woff", the Trickster said. "Oh, I'm sorry. You addressed me like one would a dog so I assumed I was supposed to answer in kind."
"Don't test my patience."
"I wasn't aware you had one."
Odin growled, his face becoming red with rage. Really, where did people thing Thor got his anger issues from? It wasn't from Frigga, despite her temper sometimes boiling over. No, that would require Frigga to be the actual mother to the Thunderer. In truth, the only son of Odin she had given birth to was Baldur.
Of course the oaf got it from his father.
"Enough!" The old man barked. "You have rained down death and destruction on two Realms while clearly feeling no remorse whatsoever!"
That was rich, considering the man's own history. It was also not true. Loki did feel remorse. Unfortunately, he couldn't remember much of what had happened in both cases. Learning the truth of his own origin had fractured his mind. Making him behave erratically and completely unlike himself. As for Midgard... well, he still had the scars needed to explain that.
"I don't know why you bother. I will tell you the truth, you will accuse me of lying. Using the godly title you gave me. And then punish me anyway. Mind if we just jump to the punishment?"
"ENOUGH! I WILL NOT HAVE ANYMORE OF YOUR LIES! I SENTENCE YOU TO ETERNITY IN THE DUNGEONS!"
How original. See, he knew they would repeat themselves. He had received the same punishment three times already, this being the fourth. Each time they realised they had to let him out because they needed him. Except the one time he let himself out.
The truth was, he felt exhausted. His body was hurting, his mind was hurting even more, his magic had been almost completely drained, and he was hungry. Letting his mind wander, it took him a while to realise that the guards were, in fact, not guiding him to the dungeons. Instead they were leading him out of the Palace altogether. Odd.
Eventually they reached a clearing. Anticipating a beating he was very surprised when his shackles were removed. Freeing him. Rubbing his wrists, he eyed the men suspiciously.
"What is this?" He demanded.
"We will open a portal to Midgard for you", one of the guards said. A youth, barely old enough to be called a man. "Others will be waiting for you, to give you aid."
Loki paused, taking in the words. "You are helping me escape... why?"
"You don't remember me, your highness." It wasn't a question but the Trickster nodded anyway. "You saved my life. Protected me when no one else would."
Startled, he studied the youth. Slowly a memory resurfaced. One of a few centuries before. "The boy..." he said. "The one whose father..."
"Yes. The one whose father would beat him within an inch of his life, in public."
He remembered. The man had been a drunk, taking pleasure in abusing his own son. No one had bothered to step in. Saying the son had probably deserved it. That the father was a warrior and because of that needed some relief. Loki had heard of this, and had forcibly removed the boy from his abuser. Finding him a proper, loving home. Even though it meant he himself had been punished.
"All of us here, we saved by you, your highness. We requested to be the ones to guard you today. For the sake of this moment."
The others nodded. Then they all brought out mage stones. Stones that allowed even someone without seidr of their own to perform magic. Together they opened a portal. Showing a small field on the other side. The portal was barely big enough for him to go through.
"Please, your highness", one of the other said. "Go, and be safe. Thank you."
All of them echoed the sentiment. He decided to accept their kindness. Ducking his head, Loki stepped through the portal. Barely had he cleared it before it snapped shut.
Looking around, he knew immediately he was back on Midgard. The air, the feel, was different, from any other Realm or world he had seen. In the far distance, he could see tall buildings. Likely from a city. He was free, but on a Realm that probably hated him. Suddenly there were movement.
One mortal man and two women were walking towards him. Completely at ease. The man spoke. "We welcome you, Traveller", he said.
Loki breathed in sharply. It was a long time since he had been called that, with that specific intonation. Allowing him to know that they meant him no harm. And that they knew who he were.
"We have prepared a place for you to rest", one of the women said. "No one will come for you there. Please. This way."
"We have food ready", the other woman chimed in. "Please, let us help you."
It might have been foolish, but he felt the echoes of the old covenant. Allowing him to trust them.
"I would love that. Thank you."