He had moved from brother, to prince, to a trickster and liar, to a traitor, a criminal, and now king. It hadn’t been an easy route, far from it in fact, and one even the God of Mischief had never fathomed. But people changed. Growing up in the constant shadow of his brother, rarely recognized for his own mastery of skills or for successful display, Loki grew bitter, vengeful.
He had distanced himself, spending more time alone with only his books and spells for company. At first Loki had sought only to impress the Allfather, to earn some acknowledgement, some small bit of understanding that he was doing something right, that Odin even saw him at all. No such thing ever happened. Frigga was probably the only reason Loki didn’t go mad sooner, and even then it only delayed the inevitable. Dwarves, dark elves, jotuns, it wasn’t only the Asgardians who were subject to the trickster’s schemes, but even when punished Loki never seemed to learn his lesson, in fact the names, the titles, they only encouraged him. If he was seen as a being of chaos, so be it.
But he had always been in control of what he did, until the one time he didn’t. It tormented Loki still, having someone else pulling the strings, leading him on like a puppet. And now he had to suffer the consequences. Did he deserve to sit on the throne of Asgard? Of course not, but Loki wasn’t the one seated before the people. No, Loki had died on Svartalfheim and Odin still ruled the realm...or so that was what everyone had been led to believe.
As a child Loki had always envisioned what it would be like to rule, to be a king. What he had imagined had always involved grand adventures, elaborate strategies to protect the realm from attack, being worshipped! Sadly, reality never seemed to follow dreams. There was a reason the king was frequently away, off worrying about diplomatic relations with other realms or whatever lie Loki had fed to the court. In reality, Loki just needed an escape. An escape from the audiences, the neverending questions of ‘great’ importance, everything! Gone were the days where he could remain in solitude for hours on end without so much of a disturbance. And on top of it all, impersonating a man he hated with a deep passion.
Midgard has become a frequent escape for the god. He had avoided the realm at first, not sure just how many alarms his presence would set off following his previous ‘visit’. He never showed his true appearance knowing that someone would recognize him. Each time Loki would try to learn more about the Midgardians and their customs, not having had the chance to do so before. Even the Asgardian libraries held very little information on the species, or even on their realm aside from how primitive the people were and how they had once worshipped the Asgardians many centuries ago.
His current visitation had brought Loki to one of his favourite destinations, one of Midgard’s own libraries scattered around the realm in various cities. The god could spend hours browsing the shelves, reading, and absorbing the knowledge. From the time the doors had opened until now, Loki had claimed a corner for his own, curled up in one of the chairs with a stack of large texts at hand. Anyone who happened to look upon him would simply see a young man, nothing out of the ordinary.
It was close to closing, this Loki knew without having to seek out a clock or any other form of timekeeping device. Slinging a bag over one shoulder, the god made his exit, hands in his pockets as he made his way down the street. He would use his magic soon enough, teleporting to the room he had rented not far off. It was far more convenient than going back to Asgard each time, and allowed him to keep up the charade that Odin was off realm on important business without the risk of being caught. As Loki passed yet another alleyway he paused. Something had felt off, as though there were a magic user or similar nearby. Curious, Loki slipped into the alleyway, using his powers to turn himself invisible as he approached the other being.
A few steps away a young woman was seated. Loki could hear her happy exclamations about being able to now afford such petty things, to him at least. Not immediately making himself known, the trickster took in the situation. Midgardians were still a puzzle to him, but one he had found he thoroughly enjoyed studying. With his curiosity getting the better of him, Loki allowed his illusion to drop, keeping his altered appearance as he spoke.
“Not quite the usual place to find someone such as yourself.” He had to stop himself from calling her a Midgardian. “And with such valuable resources.” He chuckled, noting the stack of cash in her hands and the others poking out of her pocket.
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