The All-father was holding his sons with one hand, while they swung in the air, hanging off the edge of the destroyed Bifrost. Thor was glad that they were both safe, he even hoped that they would make up now, become brothers again, because the only thing in the universe that he loved more than Jane, was his brother, Loki. Brother. No one would ever convince him otherwise, Loki would always remain his brother, despite everything he had done. Then the god of mischief spoke.

"I could have done it, Father! I could have done it, for you, for all of us!"

"No, Loki." Odin's voice came cold and solid. The look in Loki's eyes changed as he realized that he was the biggest disappointment of his father. It took Thor a second to read the look in his brother's eyes.

"Loki, no!" the god of thunder screamed, but it was too late. The pale hand let go of the scythe and fell down towards the closing portal, a single tear rolling down from his eyes.

But at the exact moment when he entered the portal, something in time and space went wrong, very wrong, and the god of mischief and lies was given a chance to make amends. So instead of falling to Midgard as an adult and in the 21st century, he ended up there in the 20th century, in the year of 1981 to be precise, as an infant. The parents with which he ended up, named him Tom. And so Loki began his new life as Thomas William Hiddleston, a seemingly normal child, but his parents always knew that little Tommy was different from the other kids. He was always too good at playing pretend, his imagination was vast and unique, the boy was always telling made-up stories about other worlds with strange names, worlds inhabited by magical creatures and gods, evil giants and very human-like creatures with long pointy ears, rainbow bridges and castles made of gold. But that wasn't the most unique thing about little Tom, he'd been telling all those stories so many times, that his parents had stopped paying attention to them. The attention, though, came right back when the boy's raven black straight hair turned to soft golden curls and his emerald green eyes became a clear blue. They knew that a person's eyes changed colour as the transition from infantry to childhood was made, but they had never seen or heard of hair changing so drastically. After consulting with countless doctors, without letting the child now, they decided that it was just some weird and extremely rare genetic anomaly and left it at that. Everything was normal, until Tom turned twelve. At that time he started having strange dreams of the worlds he had fantasized about as a child, the creatures with the pointy ears he now knew were called elfs, an incredible bridge that shone with all seven colors of the rainbow, connecting a strange device with a castle made of solid gold, where an old, but wise king ruled with his wife and son. He could see the son as clearly as if he were real and standing right in front of him. A tall, muscular man with shoulder-length blond hair and eyes as blue as the sky, windows to the big and warm heart hidden under so much armor and sculpted flesh. The look in those eyes would change as quickly as seconds passed. From rage, to happiness, to sadness, to longing. Tome had gotten strangely attached to the prince, his sky-blue eyes. He went to bed every night with the hope of seeing the man in his dreams again, and every time it was like the reunion of long lost friends. Those were the good kind of dreams, but there were nightmares, more frightening than anything he could ever imagine. He dreamed that he was being chased by blue giants with red eyes who sought revenge for the murder of their king, which apparently Tom had committed. He would dream of a man that looked just like him, with the exception of the hair and the eyes, the man had raven-black hair, carefully slicked back, and emerald-green eyes with an evil spark in them, but Tom knew that he was that man, and it scared him, because in his dreams the green-eyed man would do terrible things, betray comrades, play with the feelings of others, kill without remorse, destroy towns with innocent people… Tom hated those dreams, he hated that man, and he hated himself for knowing that he was in fact that man, or had been in a previous life, that's what he always told himself to calm down. But he wasn't alone in those dreams, the blue-eyed prince would always come and save him from the giants, stop him from doing bad things and gently guide him back to reality, where none of that existed, and for that he loved the prince, like a child loves it's older brother.

Every now and then Thor would go to the edge of the destroyed Bifrost, where Heimdall still stood watch, making sure with his all-seeing eyes that everything in Asgard was okay. Thor would stand there, next to him, until he would get the courage to speak, to ask.

"Can you see him, Heimdall?" the god of thunder would ask, the same thing every time, and the answer was always the same.

"Yes."

"Is he okay?"

"He misses you. He doesn't remember you, but he sees you in his dreams every night. Apparently you always save him from the frost giants." A tiny smile played across Thor's lips. "He longs to see you, he knows that you are real. He's taken quite a liking to storms, and what midgardians call mythology." Heimdall said with a hidden smile. "He believes he will see you some day."

"Let's hope that day comes soon." The god said and headed back to the palace.

A/N: ATTENTION! PLEASE READ! Although you probably won't. But anyway, I have decided to continue working on this, and add some chapters, to make it a bit longer and tell some other stories I'll think of. As one of my readers pointed out, this has much potential to be turned into a multi-chapter story, not just a cheesy one-shot. I do have other things to work on, though, so don't expect any chapters this week. But maybe sometime next week I'll have something ready for you :3 And if you just read this, you get a cookie! *gives cookie*