It was a common saying in Midgard that it wasn't the fall that hurt, but the impact.
Loki would later hear this phrase and would know exactly what it meant; both figuratively and literally.
Falling through the space rift, he could only feel numb as the air around him whistled past his limbs, but not as numb as how he felt about Odin's last words to him.
He had been at the highest position he could imagine but lost it. Thinking to himself, he had already realized he would never be as important to Odin as Thor was, but he had tried his hardest to be a good son and a responsible leader. He failed, story of his life, curtain call with no applause. When he had learned that he was not only adopted but also a Jotun, he had realized that his whole life was essentially a well intentioned lie. He was no Asir let alone candidate for the throne of Asgard. He was a Jotun, a freak, a monster.
Noticing that he had fallen out of the rift, he hoped he was in Muspellsheimr so that the local Joten might give him a quick death, but fate apparently had other plans for him.
His landing in whatever world he had reached was less than graceful but he really didn't care at this point. His end was near in his mind. The only thing to greet him in this world however was the arrival of his helm, nearly taking out a rather personal part of him in its landing.
In a bit of shock, he arose from the dusty ground he was laying on and looked around. The skies were a collage of colors, apparently being at sunset throwing the landscape into a red stained and shadowy scene. Some strange bushes of yellow branches were nearby as well as a patch of what looked like some form of green rocks with strange red protrusions. He concluded here that he was not in Muspellsheimr like he expected but instead back on Midgard and that fate was punishing him in a way his father never did.
Hot damn... Hot... It was still quite hot despite getting darker and he anticipated that his armor would not help in the matters. Shedding it he began a search for something to eat if death would not come for him yet.
-2 Hours Later-
This land had gone from swelteringly hot to balls freezing cold in a fucking short time span. Thanking whatever diety who had allowed him to keep his magic, he had set alight one of the bushes and was continually adding pieces of whatever he could find to burn.
He had also managed to capture and kill a relatively small hare he had found with a dagger he kept in a hidden pocket and a notice-me-not spell. Upon cooking it, he found the meat stringy but didn't eat much for he found himself with little appetite despite the amount of effort he put into getting the ratty thing. It now sat next to him atop his discarded breastplate he used as a cooking surface.
He shimmied closer to the fire, wrapped in the ornamental cape he had and was trying to stave off hypothermia when a bit of movement caught his eye. A mangy and half starved dog shyly inched closer and closer to his discarded meal. Loki couldn't tell what breed it was but felt a pang of sympathy as he saw the tag less faded leather collar stand out amongst its short sandy fur. With a sigh, Loki held out a hand face up and the dog came close enough to smell his hand. Loki gestured to the hare and the dog near instantly began to rip what it could from the carcass to eat.
Finishing the hare, the dog got closer to Loki and laid down by him, a welcome source of heat besides the fire.
Two outcasts survived that night in the New Mexico desert only to be found the next morning by a man in a designer suit leading many more men holding rather dangerous guns.
Loki was taken by the SHEILD agents to a nearby hospital to make sure he was healthy enough for questioning and testing. The dog was also checked out for any health issues or signs of who its previous owner had been. While undernourished and dehydrated, there were no chips or tags for identification so it was returned to Loki upon his request.
Agent Coulson had been a nice enough fellow if a bit of a brown nose and would bring Loki whatever he asked for while being 'Observed' as he had put it. Knowing how Thor had been called crazy for who he had claimed to be, Loki requested early on for information about the Nordic pantheon from Midgard's point of view. He received a thick hard covered book titled "Nine Realms" and studied the beliefs that these humans had about him.
None of the stories had been true to his recollection. He never remembered there being golden apples in Asgard and had only been to Midgard three times at most before Thor's temporary exile. He found the stories centering around him started out light hearted or even heroic in the beginning of the book if a tad psychotic.
Helping Thor get his hammer back from thieving giants via drag had been too good to be true and saving a young boy from being eaten was rather heartwarming. He gave birth to what? He sure as hell would have remembered giving birth to a horse if he ever did but he was a guy! First off, Sleipnir was a peace offering from the Vanir to Odin, not his child and second, Ouch. He had no freaking clue whom Kvasir was and from what the mortals believed, he was glad he wouldn't really get the chance.
Reaching to the end of the stories he found himself being painted in a darker, more sinister tone. Giving birth to numerous monsters that would ravage the world, killing and being killed by Heimdall, and refusing to weep for Baulder's death (He fucking did, for three weeks, Odin's spite.) In the intent of disregarding the book, Loki gave the name Fenrir to the dog. Fenrir wagged his tail for this.
In the third month of recuperation and observation, Loki was asked if he would be willing to help SHEILD with a project of theirs which they had termed OPERATION: AVENGERS. Loki had become extremely bored with living in the middle of nowhere midway through the second month and signed into the program without delay.
Agent Coulson insisted that he use SHIELD transport to reach another place he had called 'New York' rather than teleporting like he usually did. Loki was fine with this as he had bad experiences with teleporting to unfamiliar destinations and Fenrir would get sick every time they made a jump. Halfway through the journey to New York, they touched down near a city named Chicago and he was allowed to explore a bit with the escort of a SHIELD appointed assistant.
Chicago teemed with the life of its residents and visitors. The different shops hawked their wares from behind translucent glass. Loki found himself with a whole new wardrobe bought by SHIELD about the time he returned. Midgardian fashion was one he could appreciate. No heavy armor or bulky plates. He could move much more freely and quietly in most of his new outfits. He was most greatly relieved that he wouldn't be expected to wear his formal armor at official meetings; instead he could wear any of his more breathable suits. He was a bit depressed that he didn't have access to his old comfortable battle clothes but he had been able to replace most pieces of that and he could use any SHIELD contact he desired for custom parts.
Upon returning, Coulson complimented upon the selection of designer suits and Fenrir sniffed out the gourmet dog treats he had picked up. With Coulson had been a new face, a tall and buff blond man with a soft expression and a very kind demeanor in a red white and blue jumpsuit. He had introduced himself as Captain America but asked Loki to call him Steve. Loki could tell that he and Steve would get along well without any Asgardian style bonding time AKA beating the crap out of each other and pointing out weaknesses. He was very happy for this.
Author's Notes
First two parts down and more to come. Next chapter will be a shennanigans tale brought on by a very good question on the Kink Meme page, then more of the actual story.
