Loki's place was small. Ever since he left behind his old life, he wanted something that was his and his alone and he figured his place of residence was the best place to start.
"Here we are little one." Loki said. He placed his cat down and watched it crawl over to his arm chair in the corner.
Asgard was never a place he could call home, and Midgard had too many burned memories to be called a home. Not only that, but the Man of Iron had probably found a way to track him, and the last thing he wanted to do was be bothered…at least not now, not when he was still trying to get himself together. No, he needed a new start. He needed a place that was new…uncharted waters. Which is why he decided to settle down in Alfheim, the realm of the elves. Not much was none about these people, except that they were known for their serenity.
Perfect.
Loki walked over to his arm chair, picked up his cat and placed him in his lap.
"Meow."
He set up his new home in a cave on the outside of the realm's major city, that way no one would bother him, and even if they came looking he had created a spell that would mask his home from sight.
"I still have to give you a name, don't I?" Loki looked into his cat's eyes. He looked around his home, the furnishings were bare. There was a throw rug on the floor, a few chairs sprawled across the cave, a fireplace that he had yet to use, and bookcases that lined everyway. The place was small and cramped, but it was his.
And his alone.
"Meow."
He smiled. "No, this is our home, isn't it little one?"
When Loki first brought his little friend into his new home the poor thing was so…shy. He hid just about everywhere. He hid under the chairs, he hid in the corners, he even found a way to squeeze behind his bookshelves. When Loki finally managed to fit a bed into that small space he deemed his new sleeping area, his cat hid under there as well.
It took days, even weeks, for the poor creature to feel comfortable enough to even meow at Loki. There were nights when his cat shivered (either from some nightmare, or closed memory) and Loki would pick him up and place him in the bed with him.
"Sleep easy little one," he would whisper. As time went by, the cat simply snuggled up to Loki's side at night, and soon the shivering stopped. During breakfast, when the cat would shove himself under the arm chair, he would now take his meal at Loki's side.
"Meow."
Loki smiled. "Just by looking at you I can tell you're strong." Loki ran his fingers through the cat's fur. He had thought of giving the cat a name of a Norse god, but that didn't seem right. This cat was Midgardian and his name should reflect that.
"Meow."
"It was a shame though. I'm sorry we had to leave in such a hurry." The cat had barely started on his breakfast when Thor and his friends showed up. Despite their rude interference Loki felt no ill will towards any of them. It was the same routine, Thor would show up, stomp around in his boots as if the world should be grateful he showed his face, and then made demands. Same as he always did. Years ago Loki would have felt anger, resentment, bitterness…but now he just felt indifference.
Thor's booming voice once filled him with disdain, but now it was just like the sound of thunder. Loud and flashy, but ultimately meaningless. The Avengers could demand all they liked from him, but he was under no obligation to fulfill any of their wishes. He had done nothing wrong besides live his own life, on his own terms.
And he would always do so, regardless of their approval.
"Meow."
Loki nodded. "I know I know, you're hungry."
The cat jumped from Loki's lap and walked over to his bowl. "Meow."
He still had to give him a name.
Loki walked over to the bowl, and clapped his hands twice. The bowl filled up with what the mortals called "cat food", he figured it was good enough for his new friend.
That morning he wanted to sample every dessert the mortal world had to offer, something he hadn't done since he was a child… and it was wonderful.
"You know, next time we should try to go to an 'amusement park', the mortals say they are quite fun." Loki ran his fingers through his cat's fur. The creature's body use to be so frail, but as the days went by it had grown strong like a lion's.
The Loki's eyes lit up.
"…Leon." That was perfect. He had heard that the name meant "courage", and, just like his new friend, it was Midgardian in origin. "What do you think of that name?"
Strong. Brave. Exotic in its own ordinariness. It fit perfectly.
In all honesty Loki could not remember when he had stopped thinking about Thor, or Midgard, or Asgard, or any of the other worlds he once sought to conquer. They slowly became less important to his world until they disappeared completely. He had heard once that the opposite of love was not hate, but indifference, living on without a thought to how the third party was.
Had he reached that stage?
Loki sat and watched Leon devour every last bit of his meal and he shuttered. He really had changed.