(Notes: I am seriously confused, how is this not a thing yet? Oh well.)
This is the story of how I died. Don't worry; this is actually a very fun story. And the truth is, it isn't even mine. This is the story of a boy named Steve. Yes – obviously, boring name, very common name. But there was something special about this particular Steve. And it all starts with the sun.
Now, once upon a time, a single drop of sunlight fell from the heavens. And from this small drop of sun, grew a magic, golden flower – but really it is just science we haven't figured out yet. It had the ability to heal the sick and injured – oh but see, there was this one man – you will want to remember him, he is kind of important.
Well, centuries pass and a hop skip and bump right away there grew a kingdom. The kingdom was ruled by a treasured King and Queen – and the Queen was about to have a baby. But then she got sick, really sick. She was running out of time. And that's when people usually start to look for a miracle. Or in this case, a magic golden flower.
But here – instead of sharing the sun's gift, this man, Loki Laufeyjarson, hoarded its healing power and used it to keep himself alive for hundreds of years – and all he had to do was sing a special song.
* Flower gleam and glow,
let your power shine *
* Make the clock reverse,
bring back what once was mine *
* What once was mine*
All right, you get the jist. He sings, he turns young and has supernatural powers, creepy, right?
Eventually the townspeople found it – and the magic of the special flower healed the Queen. A healthy baby boy, a prince was born. With beautiful golden hair and the heart and strength of a lion.
I'll give you a hint.
That's Steve. If you couldn't tell you are an idiot – but don't worry, everyone is practically an idiot since I am a genius and all.
To celebrate his birth, the King and Queen launched a flying lantern into the sky – I have no idea why, it might have some sort of symbolism I never looked into... For that one moment, everything was perfect.
And then that moment ended. Loki broke into the castle and just like that he stole the child, gone like a whisper in a breeze. The times grew frantic as the Kingdom searched and searched, but they could not find the beloved Prince. But deep within the blooming, shadowy forest in a hidden tower Loki raised the child as his own.
Loki had found his new magic flower. But this time he was determined to keep it hidden. The young Prince would constantly ask why he could not go outside and the reply was always the same – "The outside world is a dangerous place. Filled with horrible, selfish people. You must stay here, where you're safe. Do you understand, flower?" And Steve would nod his head and the subject would be forgotten.
But the walls of that tower could not hide everything. Each year on his birthday, the King and Queen released thousands of beautiful lanterns into the sky - hoping that one day their lost Prince would return.
It was quiet aside from the sound of a teenage boy trailing on the tile floor. His blue eyes were a deep, deep blue – crystal with sparkles of ice inside. His grin was pure and innocent and held layers of childish antics underneath.
Steve Rogers rounds the inside of the tower's perimeter once more, eyebrows furrowing as he rested his elbows on the dark painted window sill with a fake defeated look. "Hmm, well I guess Bucky's not hiding out here."
The flowerpot shuffles for a quick second and the blonde practically leaps - plucking up a green chameleon from their game of hide-and-seek, the reptile squeaking loudly before crawling into the boy's palm.
"Gotcha! That's twenty-two for me. How about twenty three out of forty five?"
The emerald creature shakes it head swiftly in the form of a 'no' which Steve frowns at.
"Okay, well, what do you want to do?" Instantly the creature points one little leg out to the window which gives a beautiful view of lush bosky woodland. The morning sun dapples the tree's leaves, giving it a mystical effect. The blonde gives a short wistful sigh, but looks away, shoulders slumping.
"Yeah, I don't think so. I like it in here and so do you."
The chameleon glares, causing Steve to grin foolishly and rub his pet against his cheek.
"Oh, come on Bucky, it's not so bad in here."
*7a.m. the usual morning line-up*
*Starting the chores I sweep
'til the floors all clean*
*Polish and wax, do laundry and
mop and shine up.*
*Sweep again, and by then
it's like 7:15.*
*So I'll read a book,
or maybe two or three.*
*I'd add a few new paintings
to my gallery.*
*I'll play guitar, and knit, and cook
and basically.*
*Wonder when will my
life, begin.*
*Then after lunch, it's puzzles,
and darts and baking.*
*Papier-mâché, a bit of ballet,
and chess.*
*Pottery, and ventriloquism, candle making.*
*Then I'll stretch, maybe sketch.
Take a climb, sew a dress, and I'll re-read the books.*
*If I have time to spare, I'll paint the wall
some more, I'm sure there's room somewhere.*
* Lift some weights, check the dates
throw my shield around *
*Stuck in the same place
I've always been.*
*And I'll keep wondering, and wondering,
and wondering...*
*Wondering, just when will my life begin?*
*Tomorrow night, the lights will appear.*
*Just like they do on my birthday,
each year.*
*What is it like out there,
where they glow?*
*Now that I'm older. Father
might just let me go.*
"Wow! I could get used to a view like this." The brunette stands, eyes taking in the Kingdom beneath his feet with wonder. Subconsciously he clutches his chest where a faint bluish light is weakly glowing, feeling the warmth pulse through his skin.
"Tony, come on." Obadiah growls, nudging the younger man back into reality.
"Hold on. Yep, I'm used to it. Okay - I want a castle."
"We do this job; you could buy your own castle." Tony's eyes light up with excitement and he grins down at the palace like it was one of his robots or experiments. He hooks on a rope to his waist and flips the top of the rooftop's skylight open quietly.
The guards don't even realize that he had been lowered down on a bungee cord, removing the royal crown off of its velvet pillow.
Just as expected a loud alarm sounds that fills the brunette with terror and glee. The adventure has just begun. The rope rewinds, yanking him upwards and he crawls through the window to see the gorgeous sky again.
"Can't you picture me in a castle of my own? I mean, I certainly can. Oh, the things we've seen and it's only eight in the morning. My dear Obie, this is a very big day." The older silver haired man has to grab his apprentice as they slide down the tops of homes, carrying the satchel close to his mechanical heart.
The blonde was practically dancing, excitedly hopping one foot to the other. Bucky sat on his shoulder, silently and uneasy, tiny claws digging into his flesh.
"This is it. This is a very big day, Bucky. I'm finally going to do it. I'm going to ask him." The boy mutters, twirling and tossing a feather duster between his hands. A loud knock startles him and the faint outline of a sleek, slim human is against the entrance.
"Steve!" The voice is deep and coated with fake affection, echoing out in the tower's rooms. "Be a dear and open the door?"
"It's time." Steve feels overcome with emotions – hope being the most prominent of them all. He paused a moment to slow his heart-rate and take a deep, satisfying breath.
"Steve, I'm not getting any younger." The man replied a growl seeping into his tones, throwing off the affection and sickening sweetness of the voice.
"Coming, Father."
He unlatches a big lock and opens the door, watching as the staircase reels in mechanically. They were only made for his father to walk down of course; if he tried they might collapse. Or at least that's what his Dad told him. He wasn't going to risk falling to his death.
"Hi, welcome home, Father." Steve broadened his grin a little, hoping to not seem to desperate.
"Oh, Steve. How you manage to do that every single day, without fail, it looks absolutely
exhausting, darling." A slim, slick hand, lanky fingers smoothing his cheek as the adult entered. His Father was dressed in brilliant green and black attire, removing a golden goat crown from his head. The man's sharp, jade colored eyes nearly lit the darkness of the tower.
"Oh, it's nothing." Steve pushes to compliment aside, glancing at Bucky for a second - joy practically illuminating his face.
"Then I don't know why it takes so long." Loki snapped, before wrapping one skinny arm over the broad shoulders of his son and patting his head, "Oh, darling. I'm just teasing."
"All right...so, Father. As you know tomorrow is a very big day-" Another arm dragged the boy over to a corner of the room. The Father pushed his son to look at a lengthy mirror, his frown curling up into a soft smile.
"Steve, look at that mirror. You know what I see? I see a strong, confident, handsome young man." Steve practically beamed at his Dad, "Oh look, you're here too. I'm just teasing, stop taking everything so seriously."
The blonde shrugged off the insult, wringing his hands out behind him, "Okay, so Father. I was thinking tomorrow..."
"Flower, Father's feeling a little run down. Would you sing for me, dear? Then we'll talk." The dark haired man interrupted, holding out a hand and batting his lashes.
"Oh! Of course, Father." Steve said without missing a beat, holding out a hairbrush and let the comb rush through his hair, singing swiftly, but still charmingly.
*Flower gleam and glow, Let your power shine,
Make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine.*
*Heal what has been hurt, Change the fate's design.
Save what has been lost, Bring back what once was mine.*
His short glowing locks died of their power a moment afterwards as the boy whipped around, facing his parent and ignoring the startled look on Loki's face. "Steve!"
"So, Father, earlier I'd said tomorrow was a pretty big day, and you didn't really respond, so I'm just going to tell you." The boy takes a small intake of breath before blurting, "It's my birthday!"
"No, no, no can't be. I distinctly remember. Your birthday was last year." The man pauses, tilting his head back to examine the blonde with his piercing leopard-like gaze.
"That's the funny thing about birthdays. They're kind of an annual thing." Steve rocks back on his heels, face contorting into that of a pleading puppy, "Father, I'm turning eighteen. A-And I wanted t-to ask, what I r-really want for this birthday. A-Actually what I want f-for every birthday..."
"Steve please, stop with the mumbling. You know how I feel about the mumbling. Blah, blah, blah… It's very annoying." The older of the two rolls gruffly responds before painting a delighted look back over his face. "I'm just teasing, you're adorable. I love you so much, dear."
"I want to see the floating lights."
Loki froze, his fists curling into balls, and his jaw clenching slightly. He turned slowly and glowered at his son. "What?"
"Oh…Well I was hoping you would take me to see the floating lights." Steve could hear the drum of his heart and was sure his blood pressure was through the roof but this was his moment. His tongue was dry in his mouth and he bit his lip, nearly breaking the delicate skin.
"Oh, you mean the stars." The elder said, eyes softening and trying to break out of the conversation.
"That's the thing… I've charted stars and they're always constant. But these, they appear every year on my birthday, Father. Only on my birthday." The blonde heard his voice echoing out on the empty halls of the tower, wincing at his parent's bitter look. "A-And I can't help but feel that they're, they're meant for me. I need see them, Father, and not just from my window. In person. I have to know what they are."
"You want to go outside?" Oh Loki knew that this would happen but he still felt anger and terror well inside him. He quickly threw the boy off his trail. "Oh, why Steve. Look at you…as fragile as a flower."
*Still a little sapling, just a sprout.*
-*You know why we stay up in this tower*
"I know, but..." The boy cringed as his Father stood, elegant and tall and merciless.
*That's right, to keep you safe,
and sound, dear.*
*Guess I always knew this day was coming.*
*Know that soon you'd want
to leave the nest.*
*Soon, but not yet. Shhh..*
"But-" The blonde began only to have a finger pressed to his lips and his shoulders slumped as his Dad began to sing in his deep, thick tone.
*Trust me pet,
Father, knows best.*
*Father knows best,*
listen to your Father.*
*It's a scary world out there.*
*Father knows best.*
*One way or another, something
will go wrong, I swear.*
*Ruffians, thugs, poison Ivy,
quicksand.*
*Cannibals, and snakes,
the plague.*
*Also large bugs, men with pointy teeth.*
*And stop, no more,
you'll just upset me.*
Loki grinned wickedly as he flicked a hand, a invisible burst of energy slamming the window shades and blowing out the nearby candles, wrapping them in darkness. Steve squeaked and dove to Loki, clinging to his side with wide, scared eyes.
*Father's right here,
Father will protect you.*
*Darling here's what I suggest.*
*Skip the drama,
stay with Papa.*
*Father, knows best.*
*Father knows best.
Take it from your daddy.*
*On your own, you won't survive.*
*Sloppy underdressed, immature, clumsy,*
The older man plucks the boy up, swinging him and they fall into step of a dance unknown to them. Steve nervously blinks at Bucky, who was trembling on a table full of sewing supplies, hiding behind one of the pin cushions.
*Please, they'll eat you up,
alive.*
*Gullible, naive,
positively grubby.*
*Ditzy and a bit,
well, hmm vague.*
Loki runs a hand through Steve's golden locks, resentment rising in his heart.
*Plus I believe, getting
kinda chubby.*
*I'm just saying,
'Cause I wuv you.*
He adds with a dose of choking sweetness and Steve doesn't seem offended, just startled. His Father has said worse things to him anyway.
*Father understands,
Father's here to help you.*
*All I have is one request.*
The parent stops, holding the boy close to him, a look that seems like genuine concern washing over his elusive face. His hands softly grasp the teenager's shoulders, pulling him to gaze directly at him.
"Steve?"
"Yes?" Steve rasps apprehensively.
"Don't ever ask to leave this tower, again." The last flicker of hope dies in that moment and Loki feels relieved and grateful that he had finally crushed the last of the child's dreams of leaving. Nothing would take him away.
There were unshed tears sparkling in a river of pure blue eyes. "Yes, Father."
Loki smiles at his son, burrowing into the beautiful blonde hair with happiness, "Ah, I love you very much, dear."
"I love you more." The words are strained in Steve's throat, rough and painful like sandpaper. How many times had he said that before and meant it? Every time. But this time he really didn't.
"I love you most." The whisper came from his Father, who finally pulled away from the embrace, "Don't forget it. Steve, I'll see you in a bit, my flower."
"I'll be here." Comes the feeble reply, and when Loki leaves Steve slams his forehead into the nearest desk, breaking a chair accidently when he takes his rage out on it.