Chapter 3
The next morning Loki awoke to find that the Frost Giant and any evidence of him was gone, all but the ashes of the fire. He did not know if he would ever see him again but he could not help but feel a pang of pity for whatever his losses were. Loki could sympathize in a way, they both remembered a kingdom to which they could not return to.
Loki kept moving, wanting to cover as much distance as he could before night fell again. His stomach burned in hunger and he hoped that he would find food soon. At times he considered an attempt at hunting but was quite certain that his skills and his tools were not up to the task. But perhaps he could use his abilities as a Frost Giant. An opportunity presented itself as he noticed a bird perched on a low branch, eyeing him with curiosity. With a swift movement of the arm, he coated it with a layer of ice, making it fall to the ground like a rock. Loki crouched closer to it, half surprised that it had actually worked. He could see the pitiful creature's eye darting about in panic while its fragile limbs were frozen and immobile within the block of ice. Loki bit his lip, feeling rather cruel at the present moment. Even in his starved state, the bird he had used for target practice seemed less than appetizing. First he would have to wait for it to thaw, then pluck its tiny feathers, and lastly pick out what little meat there would be between all its needle-thin bones. He would have to leave the unfortunate thing to a slow and painful death, Loki had few alternatives, but at least he was left with a greater sense of security. His powers could come to be useful. As for the matter of food, he would have to settle for snow and shriveled berries, at worst.
After what felt like three continuous hours of walking, Loki arrived at a clearing in the woods. He then found himself a fallen log on which to sit and rest his legs, brushing off the layer of snow that coated it. For a second he had a lurching feeling that he had made a full circle to the clearing in which he was dropped from the abyss. But no, the arrangement of rocks, trees, and stumps was significantly different, he decided after studying them closely, the clearing was smaller too. He could rest at ease.
He then began to wonder if it would have been better if he really did return to where he first awoke. Then the Asgardians would have a better chance of finding him, given that they had found an alternative way to travel between worlds. Or rather, given that they were looking for him. Where did he stand in the eyes of his people? As Thor's treacherous brother, never to be seen or heard from again, so he thought. Perhaps they believed him to be mad with vengeance and dangerous, already devising a plot for revenge. Loki could almost laugh, at the present his fist priority was surviving. And who was he to play the role of a vindictive villain when even destroying all of Asgard would bring him no satisfaction. He did feel a fair amount of hate towards Thor and his so called father, but he did not want them dead. Did they wish him dead? he wondered. No, just out of the way.
Loki thought back to the moment he told Odin what he had done, precariously holding on to Thor's hammer as they both hung over the ledge. Of course Odin would appear the moment Thor was in danger, fate always looked out for Thor, in fact it spoiled him rotten. At first Loki rationalized his disapproval of Thor taking the throne because his brother was not yet ready for such a role; he was arrogant and rash to wage wars for which whole nations would pay. Yet the God of Mischief understood that it was more jealousy than reason that drove him. Somehow, Thor going on a life-altering journey of personal growth to earn his birthright, and in the process finding the love of his life in a humble mortal, felt infinitely worse. It made Loki's own misfortunes appear fair and just. All he could do to comfort himself was to believe that because he had lost everything, he now had nothing to lose. He as a free man.
He knew that starting a new life was the path for him, instead of hoping to return to Asgard to beg forgiveness until the end of time. No, he had had enough groveling for one lifetime, maybe even for two. But then he thought of his brother, the memories of their past could not be erased as easily as a slate. Thro did not want him to let go, Loki could see it in his eyes when he let his fingers slip from the handle of the hammer, they were almost begging him. Then again, who knew, sometimes one sees what they want to see.
Loki thought back to the dream he had the prior night. He found it quite strange, even to remember it so lucidly. Everyone he knew from Asgard was frozen in time as a child; Thor was there, he was talking and laughing as boisterously as always with a group gathered around him. It looked to be a celebration of sorts inside a palace of glass. Loki approached one person and then another, though they took little notice of him, perhaps they could not see him at all, until he reached the towering window at the far end of the hall. Outside of the palace was a thick black fog looming over a forest, attempting to conceal a gathering of Frost Giants in the process of building something. Loki squinted his eyes but he still could not see what it was.
The God of Mischief turned from the window and pushed his way through the crowd. By then the jubilant atmosphere of the party was escalating and many of the guests had aged into adulthood. Drinks were severed liberally and the volume of their voices grew to a deafening roar. Loki felt very much out of place and he could sense Thor's gaze upon him, making him uneasy. As he searched for the staircase leading out of the great hall, he could not overlook that most of the crowd had lost a few layers of clothing since he had last gazed at them. At last he found his escape, wondering for a moment why he felt such an urgency to leave. Loki looked around for Thor but he was nowhere to be seen. With a pang of hesitation he at last began his descent down the stairs, leaving the booming gathering behind. He felt a heavy silence surround him as the hall grew narrow, yet he did not stop until he reached the black fog, fitting his body between the two walls.