In his sleep, he saw them: the man with black hair like his own and green eyes that shone in humour, and the woman who seemed to embody both darkness and light. Her hair was half-black and half-white, just like her eyes.
(He was the Trickster; she was Death.)
They welcomed him, lips spread wide in a smile. He carelessly ruffled Tom's hair; she playfully taunted him. And, Tom laughed, equally thrilled to be there – to escape the Orphanage for a time, even for only the preciously few sleeping hours he had before the Matron woke them for chores. This was the reminder that there was someone that cared for him despite his waking reality.
A few years later they were able to speak, and he to listen to their words. They introduced themselves, then, with great delight.
(He was Tom's father; she was Tom's half-sister.)
But they never explained why Tom saw them only at night. Or why they bothered to visit him at all (or perhaps it was he who visited them?), leaving him only with the slowly fading memories of sleep.
Tom sought them. He wanted to know who they really were. He needed proof that they existed somewhere other than in his imagination – he didn't want to give the children in the Orphanage a reason for their taunts of his 'freakishness'.
He found his answer in a dusty book within the library. The reluctant librarian had led him to the shelf and pointed the book out to him, before returning to her desk. She, like everyone else, had heard the rumours and didn't want to be seen with him.
Nevertheless, Tom had his answers.
(He was Loki; she was Hel.)
They proved that he was as special as he had always believed himself to be. Gods didn't visit anyone. They only visited those who were better, who were more, than the rest.
He wanted to be like them.
He wanted to be a God. He wanted to rule over the weaklings; he wanted revenge for all the times they belittled him. Tom wanted to watch the children's shock and horror once they realised what they had done, and to whom.
When they met him that night, they noticed the change. Their smiles weren't beautiful as they usually were, but he didn't hesitate to match their smiles.
They approved of the chaos that awaited on his chosen path.
Of course they did. They weren't allowed to interfere directly in mortal matters, but that didn't mean that they weren't allowed to influence them. Tom was offering them everything they enjoyed watching. He was offering the entertainment they yearned for.
Tom knew he was being used. It was a small price to pay for purpose, and the promise of revenge.
(His smile offered promises of returning; her smile offered the promise to meeting again.)
Written for Hogwarts Assignment: History of Muggles Task 2: Demigod!AU