You only need the light when it's burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow.
Only know you love her when you let her go,
And you let her go.
-Let Her Go, Passenger
Being king was exhausting, realized a raven haired trickster, trying his hardest not to look extremely bored. Oh wait, Odin always looked extremely bored. Loki tried not to smirk a very out-of-character smirk as he slumped on his throne, wrapping his wrinkled hand more firmly around Gungnir. Ah, being king had certainly helped him polish up his acting skills.
Finally, after the sky had grown dark, and the stars were twinkling, did the guards finally announce that all his kingly matters were done. Sighing, Loki walked off towards his chambers. He would never understand why every single day, Odin had legions of unimportant people waiting outside, demanding an audience. He had done his best to deal with them all, but they were grating on his nerves.
At least Thor's not here, to muddy your rule with his idiotic counsel, Loki reminded himself. Finally having reached his chambers, goodness, Odin walked slowly, he shut the door and immediately morphed back into himself, flopping headfirst onto the bed.
After a few moments, he pulled himself up and stared into the mirror. He didn't look like himself. Not like Odin, either, thank god his magic was still working, but his face was gaunt, his eyes haunted. The overuse of magic was taking its toll on him, and he'd never really recovered from any of the events of the past two years.
Of course, that was the exact moment when Thor, having been on Earth for half a year, conveniently banged open the door. "Father!" he announced, stepping grandly into the room. "I have returned for a visit!"
Loki tried to vanish, but his magical reserves needed time to recharge, as it were, and he only succeeded in stumbling, nearly blacking out. Red spots danced in his vision. Thor ran over to him. "Loki? You're alive! Why are you in Father's chambers? Where is he?"
That was all Loki heard before he blacked out.
And awoke in a completely different place. He was in a bed, covered in red, pink, and blue patterned sheets. Sun shone brightly through a large bay window. A girl was sitting on the window seat, reading a large purple book. She seemed to be speaking to herself. She looked about twenty, with fiery red hair that came past her shoulders and a blue shirt. She was surrounded by posters. They covered the floor, and some of them were tacked up to the walls. They advertised something called a "42nd Street." Others had other, random words and pictures highlighted, like "Wicked," and "Newsies." He turned back to the girl, to find that she was staring at him with brilliant blue-grey eyes, like the sea before a storm. She smiled a knowing smile.
"Hello, Loki. How are you?"
He couldn't find word, but she just smiled again. She set down the purple book, taking one of her socks off and sticking it in as a bookmark. He shuddered. Who did this girl think she was?
She walked across the room, deftly avoiding the piles of things scattered everywhere, and sat on the bed next to him. "What are you doing?" he asked, finally finding his voice. "Helping you," she replied, and pressed a hand to his forehead. Suddenly, he was aware of wisps of magic, purple magic, surrounding them. Instantly, he felt stronger, and realized, with a start, that she was healing him.
"Who are you, mortal?" he asked.
"Who should I be?" was her response.
She pulled her hand away, and he felt himself slipping away. "Go, Loki, go home. I'll see you soon. And don't waste your magic." The mysterious girl gave him another mysterious smile, and then he woke up, in a place he did recognize.
One of Asgard's healers bent over him. He tried to lift his arm, and found that he was chained to the healing chair. "What are you doing?" he croaked.
"Prince Loki," the healer announced. "You are healed, and since you are, I will tell you- you are sentenced for treason of the highest order, impersonating Odin Allfather and taking his rule for yourself. Get up, you need to go to trial."
The healer helped him up, and he stood, feeling stronger then he had in ages. He snapped his fingers, and to his immense relief, saw a tiny flicker of green flame pop up. "Don't waste my magic, dummy. That was only until you have enough for yourself, which, luckily, should be soon."
His head whipped around at the strangely familiar voice, and saw the fire-haired girl leaning casually against one of the beams. She put a finger to her lips, then disappeared. He shook himself, wondering if he was going insane.
He was marched down halls, until finally they reached the newly rebuilt throne room. Thor was sitting upon the throne, and he got up as soon as he saw Loki, his eyes heavy with sadness and disappointment. "I stand for your father, as he is too weak yet to sit the throne yet."
"Oh, how sad," said Loki, words dripping with sarcasm.
"Why?" demanded Thor.
"You said it yourself, the throne is better suited for me then you! And there I was, ruling peacefully until you showed up."
"You passed out from overuse of magic," pointed out Thor.
"The king's job is to never be peaceful. He just needs to keep the peace. And I have. I've rebuilt Asgard. People love me."
"People love Odin, brother. If they had known it was you, well I can only imagine the carnage." Thor said it like a jest, but neither of them smiled. "But still, why?"
Loki sighed. For once, words failed him. He tried to muster up a sentence, but couldn't think of anything witty to say.
"Being on Midgard taught me a lesson, brother. Perhaps it will teach you as well."
Loki laughed. "And you saw how well that went last time, brother."
"I'm sorry to do this. Strip him of his magic."
Instantly, guards came up, and Loki could feel his power, that green something that floated inside him, being stripped away. He grimaced, tried not to wince, because that power that had been part of him for so long, was just... gone.
"It's not gone, brother. Just dormant. When you are worthy of it, it will return to you. But until then, you will walk Midgard. Odin has decreed it so." Thor's eyes turned misty. "I'm truly sorry, brother. But it's not goodbye."
For once, in pain and lost for words, Loki was marched to the Bifrost.
Heimdall sent him without a word, and not much of an expression in his fathomless golden eyes. And for once, Loki didn't voice his thoughts, because he was too in shock, from everything that had happened in the past day, the past week, the past year. Life just kept thowing him challenges, and leaving him no time to recover, leaving a more broken man each time.
So, from the trial, to the Bifrost, and through the rainbow bridge, he said nothing, because he truly had nothing to say. It wasn't until the Bifrost left him standing in the middle of New York City did he find his voice, and he only used it to drop to his knees and scream in anguish.
Hello, lovelies! crescentmoonthemage here, with another attempt at an Avengers fanfiction! Bear with me, read and review, lovelies!