- Hello, lovelies! So this is a new story that popped up in my head, but it really isn't that new, to be honest. Like many, I've been caught up in the Marvel fandom for a long while and I had written a long story a while back, but I never posted it and it seemed I could never get my characters right, so I decided to scrap it (bad, bad decision) and about seven months later I started another story but ended it early on because I felt I had gotten off on the wrong foot. So that brings us to this beautiful story, conjured by my head! Deciding to take a break from one of my other stories for a while, just to clear my mind, this story stole the limelight once again.

- This is a Loki/OC pairing, set after The Avengers and just a tinsie bit before Thor: The Dark World. There's not really an OOC Loki in this story, more of a reformation than a sudden change, and like my other stories, love will ensue and ensnare certain hearts. With Thor: Ragnarok all over the place, I decided to get a head start. I imagine my main protagonist to be an actress named: Kaya Scodelario. She best represents the character I had imagined when creating this plot. It will be loosely based off of Norse mythology, with some quips here and there about us silly Midgardians, but there will be knowledge about the legend beyond the movies. This character is mostly based upon the Loki owned by Marvel and played by the amazing actor Tom Hiddleston who has brought a new characterization to Loki; one of salvation. All rights to the Asgardian world and the characters known to Marvel belong solely to them. (Also, this is an outcry for a Black Widow movie!)

- If you like this, and would like to see more, REVIEWWW; it would really encourage me to keep going forward with the story. You can even post anonymously as a guest! Constructive criticism is always accepted with open arms, favorite if you like this introduction and follow for more updates.

Without further ado...


Prologue


2017 A.D.

Oslo, Norway

The gold coin flipped through the air, shimmering against the setting sun as it landed in the water with a soft ka-plunk, settling amongst the other coins at the bottom of the fountain. I knew the coin I had thrown was not like any other of its kind, but I found something comforting when it had joined the rest – a sense that my past self had been freed with it. The sun became the backdrop to a battlefield and the fountain a new anchor amongst the war. Ragnarok was upon us and nothing would stop the course of fate. Nothing would stop me. This, I had learned.


965 A.D.

Somewhere in Norwegian Territory...

Their bodies lied there, limp and lifeless, reminding us of the war we could never win. Frozen in time as though they were figurines of death, our impending doom, we watched our warriors drag their bodies home to burn on funeral pyres. We would liberate them of their hellish ice prisons and let them roam the afterworld in peace; I knew it was only to make us forget of their macabre deaths. This world survived on the blood of innocents and the murdering of the strong. What world could normal folk live in while gods plundered our lands and destroyed villages, decimated battlefields? Our gods were dead, replaced by devils who could now walk amongst the land. Not only would our gods be dead, but I was sure that soon we would as well. My family, my village, my people.

It was only a matter of time.


965 A.D.

Mid-Spring, somewhere in Norwegian Territory...

Today the gods returned; our gods. A battle was waged, fought bravely. Blood ran thick like rivers down the field as statues of ice stood peppered amongst the cold, dense dirt. A reminder. It seemed as if the war should have never been waged against the kindred souls amongst our land but rather had to be fought with gods wielding magick. Perhaps with their aid, we would be fortunate to have our lives by the end of this massacre.


965 A.D.

Harvesting season, somewhere in Norwegian Territory...

Our fearless golden knights, gods of old, they came to live amongst the village after the war, came to replenish supplies and live with the common people as we worshiped them at their feet. Asbjørn disbelieved their calm and supportive nature, perplexed as to their intentions. His maiden, Astridr, believed him in this paranoia and began to spread lies about their stay within the village. Soon the warriors would return and if Asbjørn had his way, we would soon be at war again; only this time, the slaughter would be surer.


966 A.D.

Summer, the woods surrounding Bygdøy...

The fearless golden knights did nothing but invoke terror within our people, righteously so. Asbjørn and his warriors had confronted the gods and angry they became. They ripped our children from their mothers' bosoms, raped our girls and killed our men and women both. Asbjørn and Astridr had foreseen such a hell, the destruction of our small village, and built a large shelter within the darkened woods while the rest of our people had believed the sweetened lies told by the gods and died with the sour taste of such trust in their mouths. Such gods believed they had destroyed our village but they had only enacted the age old prophecy the old Wiccan woman, Ubon, had told me as a girl. A child would be born of crude blood and the seed of the gods, a new age beyond the old and into the new. The gods didn't know and neither did the girl saved in the shelter, but within the womb a new age bloomed.