A Love For Eternity (LokixReader)

Chapter Nine

(Your Pov)

A sense. That's really all the words you could use to describe the feeling that awoke you, as it crashed over your dreams in waves. There was nothing particular about it, rather a burst that left you feeling electrified. A little tickle of shock, anyway. That's how you've always sensed magic.

It has been years since you sensed someone else's magic. Given that you discredited your adventure with Tony to the sanctum. Magic was rare in the modern world, and real magic was much more rare before your last death. In colonial times and before, the phrase 'magic' was associated with anything that had to do with the unknown. The average person wasn't well-versed in science, the usage of medicinal herbs and static electricity surprising the peasants. Of course there were a select few who knew otherwise, but unfortunately if they were women then the term 'apprentice' was replaced with 'witch'.

So to feel another's magic? Real magic that made your skin crawl, fueled your lives, and could cast spells so beautiful and deadly?

You threw off the covers, sitting up to see if you could feel from where it was coming from. The signature was eerily familiar, like that of a hazy dream. You knew the Ancient One's magic by heart, as with any other teacher-magician you were familiar with. But this magic... It belonged to someone from a forgotten memory.

As well as to someone across the hall, you noted as you left your chambers. A mumble accompanied every half-spell cast, and a mutter over the ones that failed. You approached the door, curiosity overweighting any sense of self-respect. So what if you were in your pajamas? So what if you were still barefoot? It's not like any Earthen magician would care.

Just as you were about to reach for the door, his words finally became coherent enough for you to piece together. "Is there anything I'm allowed to cast?"

And it clicked. You recognised his voice, and more so recognised his accent. That elegant, Asgardian accent.

Loki.

Shiiiiiiiiit. You thought he had no magic! Or... limited magic, as Thor had said. 'As seen fit'. But apparently that decision had been too limiting for Loki's tastes, as he grumbled and tried to melt his restraint off.

Melt-

What? Why the hell is he casting melting spells?

At this sudden discovery, you barge into his room, hands on your polka-dot hips. They were some of the first night clothes you received, and quite frankly you had been too out of it last night to choose anything else. The bright red, white dotted material acting as your only armor against the prince casting melting spells.

"Why would you ever even think that is a good idea?!" You exclaimed, letting the door swing wide open. You found Loki sitting on his bed, fidgeting with a manacle on his wrist. This time he was working up to cast what seemed to be a transformation spell, from what you could read. You've become quite good at 'reading' spells and curses, as was necessary to properly cover your own. It's not literally reading, rather deciphering the magic you could sense.

Loki stopped his spell, words arriving to his lips as he turned with a scowl. But when he spotted the informal, uncaring, freaked-out, cursed magician, what he planned to say all but never existed. "Who are you?"

"The healer who really doesn't want to deal with a melted Loki." You snap, "What are you doing?"

Loki scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I am more than capable of handling my own spells."

"Really? Then do you care to explain why?" This made three times you had asked the question: 'what the hell are you doing?' He sent a glare your way, as he summoned up another spell. But instead of his transformation that he was previously attempting, this was a spell to read your mind.