Faithful

He knew the difference between fading into the background against his will and purposefully doing so, and on that particular day he was doing the latter.

“Brother, where are you going?”

The insufferable voice spoke and Loki thought for a moment he would whirl around and pelt the knife in his hand at his elder brother. Instead he paused in walking away to turn his head and respond.

“I’ve grown tired. Please, go on without me.”

Thor laughed, the sound bouncing off the high walls of the training area. “Such a poor sport! Don’t run away only because you lost.”

“I’m not running away, I am leaving, and it is not because I lost it is because I am exhausted. Not everyone finds it pleasurable to hack at a lifeless target for hours on end.”

Loki kept walking, going faster when his brother laughed again. He was holding tightly to the small weapon, furious at it as well as Thor. His common sense had told him to decline his brother’s challenge to a throwing match with magic forbidden, but his pride had not.

And watching Mjolnir fly directly into the blasted center of the target while his knife was always just a little off had swiftly put him in a bad mood.

Truthfully, everything had been putting him in a bad mood lately. His parents, his friends, his brother. Well, Thor could always get to him, but he had even snapped at his mother the other day. Loki had apologized immediately and felt awful afterwards, but it hadn’t changed his foul temperament. At least he hadn’t mouthed off to Father. No matter his mood Loki knew better than that.

He wanted to be alone, so he walked towards his rooms. The few guards he passed nodded slightly in recognition, and Loki ignored them completely. The moment he went through his door and locked it behind him Loki threw his knife at the wall, thinking angrily that he would repair the hole later. The door to his balcony opened at a flick from his hand, Loki stalking out and bracing his hands on the golden railing.

When he was a child he had marveled at this view. The deep violet sky swirled with gold and magenta, speckles of white and green twinkling in the distance. It was a beautiful place, spectacular to behold, that much Loki could still see. Yet he didn’t feel the same awe, or the desire to stay there forever.

He was wholly unsatisfied, and he had no idea why.

Did he not have everything he could ever dream of? He was a god, the son of the father of everything, living in an enormous palace with hundreds if not thousands of servants at his disposal at any given time. On top of that he was a master of magic, so if there was something the servants couldn’t bring him, he could simply conjure it from thin air. The entire world – and many other worlds – was literally at his fingertips, and Loki was not happy.

What would make him happy? He considered a vacation somewhere far from Asgard, with a vastly different culture. Then Loki remembered that of all the other worlds he had visited, none were as advanced as his home. And he didn’t have much patience for beings that weren’t as intelligent as him.

Maybe he needed a new hobby. It had seemed that his magic was boring him lately. Loki rolled his ice blue eyes upwards at the thought, sighing a little in annoyance. He didn’t like sports, he didn’t like the arts, and he didn’t really like other people. What hobby could he take up? Reading? He’d already finished enough books to fill a library, and he hated re-reading them.

Never mind, a hobby wouldn’t make him happy anyway.

Loki began to wallow, his angst and his uncertainty filling him up like a fog. He felt so on edge, a tightness filling his chest and capturing his every thought. How dreadful to live forever with no purpose, Loki thought to himself bitterly. Thor had a purpose. A purpose that he would no doubt fail at if he was as awful a king as an older brother. Loki groaned, leaning an elbow on the rail of his balcony and going to place his chin in his hand.

But a soft voice in his head that was not his own inner monologue stopped him.

“Dear Loki…”

There was a pause in which Loki opened his eyes and stared around, shocked, not believing that someone could have snuck up on him. It would have been impossible for anyone to enter his room without him noticing, and that was the only way out to the balcony. He straightened up and spun around, but he was indeed alone.

Just as he started to think that he must be insane as well as miserable, the little voice interrupted him again. “Um, I want to ask you some things…but I don’t know how to start…well, you’re probably wondering why I’m praying to you, the god of mischief, instead of Odin or Thor…”

Loki stared blindly into his room, flabbergasted by what he was hearing. Praying to him? No one had prayed to him for over four hundred years, and even then it was always horrid people. People that wanted to get away with crimes or exact revenge. This sounded like a young child. He listened intently, head cocked to the side as if that would help.

“I think that just because you like to pull tricks on people doesn’t mean you’re bad, and I think you know how to get things done…and I really need help.”

There was another delay, and Loki wondered if it was the person stopping to think or if it was his own mind struggling to understand. He could hardly remember what it was like to be prayed to. His brow set in concentration, Loki chewed on his thumbnail as he wandered slowly into his bedchamber.

He could even hear the voice take a deep breath. “Mom and Papa are always fighting, and I think they’re fighting about me. But I don’t get it…Anyway, what I want is for you to…make them stop.”

Loki sat down on the edge of his bed, pursing his lips and thinking. This was not anything like the requests he used to get. He wasn’t sure if he felt more befuddled or curious, but it was in his nature to be curious. The child thought he ‘got things done’? What on Asgard did that mean? Loki found himself almost smirking as the voice cleared its throat and went on.

“Mom needs to quit telling Papa that he’s lazy, because he isn’t, and Papa needs to quit yelling so much…They both get so mad…You can do something…right, Loki? I bet you could trick them into being happy.”

That last part startled him a little. What kind of child said things like that? If he had been a more sympathetic god he might have been saddened, but he was only surprised and growing ever more interested in why this child of Midgard was beseeching him.

Sounding a little disappointed, the voice in his head sighed. “Okay, that’s all…Thanks…Um, Amen…from April.”

Then there was silence, and Loki chuckled just a little. Amen? So her name was April. Loki didn’t know exactly what he was going to do about this child yet, but he knew he wanted to see her. It was possible she deserved a reward for her faith, he snickered to himself. With a snap of his fingers he was on the rainbow bridge approaching the looming gold figure of Heimdall.

“You wish to travel to Midgard?” said the deep resonating voice of the Gate Keeper, watching Loki come closer with penetrating orange eyes.

Loki couldn’t help the amusement he was showing in his face and jaunty walk. “You heard the girl, then?”

“Nothing escapes me here.” Heimdall replied matter-of-factly. “Do you mean to answer her?”

“I don’t know yet, but I do wish to see my newest disciple.”

Heimdall’s expression never changed, but he appeared to know something Loki didn’t. As he usually did, much to the god’s displeasure. “Be careful what you do on Midgard, Master Loki. Their customs now drastically differ from the old ways.”

“I know that.” snapped Loki, though he wasn’t sure if he did. He hadn’t been on Midgard for…well, nearly as long as the last prayer he’d heard. “Will you let me pass?”

Without another word Heimdall turned, entering the massive golden ball that would shoot Loki to Earth like a comet. Loki followed suit, standing with his back to Heimdall and facing the bright blue vortex he would enter. When the high scraping of Heimdall’s sword entered Loki’s ears the god shut his eyes, waiting for the jarring sensation of flying through the Bifrost. Just as he felt the tugging at all his limbs like he was the marionette to an aggressive puppeteer, Loki heard Heimdall warn him one last time.

“Be mindful of your actions on Midgard, Loki.”

Loki wanted to give a sharp retort, but instead he was lifted from the ground and tumbled unceremoniously through space and time. He opened his eyes, finding himself encased in the neon blue of the Bifrost, twirling around him at the speed of light. It was only a split second later that the soft soles of his black boots landed on hard ground.

Blinking to refocus his vision, Loki found himself standing outside a white building with two stories. It was an oddly shaped building, very rectangular with a sloped gray roof. Its architecture was nothing like the structures on Asgard, or the homes Loki had seen on Midgard before. Things really had changed. The large black vehicle sitting beside the house attested to that.

What a strange place, mused Loki as he took a few slow steps towards the house. His feet touched grass and Loki hesitated. Asgard didn’t have the soft green covering on the ground, only smooth black soil that grew their produce. Suddenly he realized he was distracted, glancing up and down the street to be sure he was alone. The sky was dark, meaning night on Midgard, tall wooden posts casting circles of light on the dark gray road. No light came from the other homes, and Loki grimaced a little.

Maybe this hadn’t been the best idea. He was easily distracted by the things he didn’t understand. Vulnerable. Loki even started to step backwards, opening his mouth to tell Heimdall to open the Bifrost; but the same little voice from earlier spoke up again. It was much louder, almost causing Loki to jump at the sudden noise, and it sounded as if she was falling asleep.

“Oh, and I want to have magical powers…like you.”

It made him smile in a way that was almost genuine, something he hadn’t done for a very long time. He had to see this child who desired his help, who wanted to be like him. And besides, Loki told himself, it isn’t like he had anything else to do.

Rather than try to enter the house conventionally and hopefully not wake her parents, Loki blinked and was in her room. It was dark except for a purple light glowing faintly on the lower part of the wall, but Loki didn’t have much time to look around before his head spun. He shook his head, trying not to make a small sound of nausea. It seemed that all the time between his last visits had also made him forget that his magic was limited on Midgard. He would need to be careful.

Once he felt less dizzy Loki inspected the room, an eyebrow raised at how odd it was. Rather small, the walls appeared to be white, decorated with many drawings in crayon and marker, and above the bed was a map of Midgard. Behind Loki against the far wall were a small dresser and bookshelf, the shelf bursting with books that all looked well-worn. A box of toys that appeared relatively untouched was at the end of the bed, which was long but thin and covered up a small lump with a yellow blanket.

Loki sighed, wondering what he had expected. Certainly a sleeping little girl, but what else? He didn’t dwell on it for long, because the girl was sitting up in bed fast as a lightening bolt and staring right at him. He was so stunned he didn’t have the good sense to make himself invisible to her. Why hadn’t he thought of that in the first place? Midgard really did throw him off.

What she said next only furthered his surprise. “Loki?”

What should he say? She had seen him, was still seeing him. It was late to just disappear. In the old times he had appeared to mortals more than once, mortals who he thought particularly deserving of his assistance, so why not now? After all, she was only a child. It was likely she wouldn’t remember this, and if she did what adult Midgardian would believe her?

“Yes.” he answered her simply, not quite sure what he was going to say next. “I am Loki of Asgard.”

Her small jaw popped open as she gaped at him. She was a strange mortal. Small with very long hair, gnarled around her face from tossing in her bed, and big gray eyes staring at him incredulously. Loki bit back a smirk, knowing what a sight he must have been to a puny mortal such as her.

“You look different than I thought you would.”

His thin black eyebrows shot clear back up to Asgard. “What?”

She grunted in exertion as she struggled free of her blankets. “No helmet or armor. And don’t you have a magic staff thing?”

Who did this girl think she was? Loki glared at her, wondering what had given her the idea that she could speak to him in such a way. Mortals used to respect him, fear him. She must have been hell for her parents. It took every shred of his self-control not to conjure his ‘magic staff thing’ and rip her to shreds. But she was only a child.

“Did you come here to help me?”

He wasn’t so sure now. “I don’t know. You seem like an insufferable brat.”

That shocked her into silence only for a moment, and then she stood up on her bed and tilted her head at him. “Are you mad at Thor?”

An impertinent child. “That’s hardly your business.”

“But I want to know!” she jumped down, freezing when her landing made a loud thump. She gripped the collar of her nightdress with both hands and whispered. “We have to be quiet. Mom isn’t home yet and Papa’s sleeping.”

Loki didn’t know what to make of her. “What do you want?”

That seemed to throw her for a bit of a loop. “I…don’t know. I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Ah.” They were on the same page in that area. Why had he gone there? Just to have an inane conversation with some subpar Midgardian runt? Loki felt abruptly angry at himself, planning to disappear back outside and retreat for Asgard with his tail between his legs.

But for what felt like the hundredth time that evening, the small girl halted him in his pursuit of a normal night.

“Do you like carrot cake?”

Loki didn’t like not knowing what was being talked about. “I’ve never had it.” he replied tersely, still looking down his nose at her.

“Mom cooks good. I’ll get you some.”

She crossed the distance between them, Loki stiffening defensively when she stopped just a foot in front of him. The top of her head barely cleared his waist. With no hesitance in her at all she held her hand up to Loki, chin slanted back so she could see his face. Loki gave the little hand a disdainful look, then turning it to her eyes. Bright with excitement at his appearance in her room. Hopeful. Innocent.

He didn’t know what he was doing, but he held out two fingers for her to take.

The miniature palm that closed around his long white fingers was incredibly warm, and the girl shivered when she felt his skin. “You’re cold.”

Loki didn’t respond. He had always been cold, much colder than any other Asgardians. But he never felt it. That is until that tiny insignificant human touched him. When the girl realized he wasn’t going to say anything she spun to pull him from her room, Loki following her in a bit of a daze. This was so very unlike him, and he had no explanation for it.

Just as the girl’s free hand grasped her doorknob there was a bang from the lower half of the building. Her shoulders became rigid, her grip on Loki’s fingers tightening. Loki listened closely, able to hear a jingling sound and a few thumps. The child who had been leading him twisted back around, face now full of fear.

“You have to hide!”

A scandalized gasp escaped Loki when she shoved his stomach, pushing him back towards her closet. He stumbled, then snarled as she moved behind him to open up the closet. “You do not maneuver a god, foolish mortal!”

“I’m sorry, but Mom is going to come in here and she can’t see you. She doesn’t like the Norse gods.”

That confused Loki, but he didn’t have time to mention it. Heavy footsteps were trudging up the stairs, and the girl grabbed onto his hand with both of hers, clutching it as she looked up at him pleadingly. “Please, Loki?”

He had every intention of shaking her off, leaving and calling for Heimdall. Forgetting the entire experience after a week or so and going on with his life. But the revelation came to him that this was the most exciting thing he had done in a long time. Was it not better to hide in a small girl’s closet like a monster than rot in a palace bemoaning his fate?

“Fine.” he hissed in defeat, walking his feet backwards until they bumped something. A glance down told him it was a pile of stuffed animals at the bottom of the girl’s closet. He nudged them away with a reproachful look.

April beamed at him as she shut the door. “Just until she leaves, okay?”

When it became clear she expected a response he sighed in annoyance. “Okay.”

Then the door was slammed in his face, and the god of mischief peered out through the horizontal blinds of the closet door as April leapt back into her bed and burrowed under the covers. It was only a few seconds later that the bedroom door opened, a woman’s head covered in large blonde curls poked inside.

“April?” rasped the woman, her words slightly slurred. “You asleep, baby?”

Her daughter didn’t reply, and Loki smirked a little from his place inside the closet. What child as young as her knew how to feign sleep? It was rather impressive. The woman entered the room, walking slowly so she would be quiet, and kissed April’s hair before exiting just as carefully. A moment after there was the sound of another door opening and shutting, April rolled over and lifted her head to look at the closet, her face aloof as she listened to make sure her parents wouldn’t return.

Once she was sure, she crawled back down and ran on her toes to the closet. Opening the door gingerly so it wouldn’t squeak, she looked at Loki with a conspiratorial twinkle in her eye. He really tried not to smile at her, using every ounce of his famed powers of stoicism.

But he was unsuccessful.

April’s expression turned comically serious. “We have a lot to talk about.”