Lost in Time (Loki)

1 | The Rainbow Bridge

I looked up at the galaxy sky with unmistakable awe on my face. Despite having lived on Asgard my entire life, the bright night sky never failed to impress me. The way the navy blue blended so seamlessly with the purples and the greens was utterly breath-taking, and I could not take my eyes off of the view.

Sitting on the rainbow bridge—approximately fifty metres from the Bifrost—was my favourite place to think and collect my thoughts. You would think that life on Asgard would be lavish and fantastical, but for me it was really the opposite. When you are friendless on a planet where friendship is valued, it is hard to enjoy the camaraderie of the civilisation.

My only real friend was Heimdall, the great gatekeeper who guarded Asgard, from the end of the rainbow bridge. I could not deny that this feat was mildly embarrassing, but Heimdall was one of the few people that I could actually trust.

Standing up, from my lying position on the bridge, I dusted myself off, looking up at the Bifrost. Heimdall's silhouette was stoic and dark through the entrance of the Bifrost, as I walked towards him. I closed my notebook and stuffed it into my chest pocket as I entered the space, looking up at Heimdall.

"Is everything okay, child?" Heimdall asked, not looking away from the window, where he looked out over the Nine Realms. "You seem distressed."

I sighed wistfully, walking forward to see Heimdall's sober, unyielding face. "No," I admitted. "It's my parents."

Heimdall's eyes flicked over me in concern. "What about them?"

I huffed in indignation. "They're forcing me to become a warrior, like my sister." I patted my pocket, where my prized notebook was stored. "I just want to write. I don't want to fight in battles. I don't want to hurt people."

Heimdall glanced down at me with pity. I could tell he felt bad, and that just made me feel worse. He returned his intense gaze to the window as he responded. "You can do both," he suggested. "You can still do what you want, even if your parents want you to do something else."

I nodded, thoughtfully. Heimdall was right. If I have to become a warrior, I still have to train. Training lasts for eight hours every day, leaving me enough free time to continue on my novel. Choosing to look on the bright side, I looked up at Heimdall with a solemn smile upon my face.

"Thank you, Heimdall," I appreciated, turning to leave the Bifrost. "I have to follow Sif around tomorrow, so I should probably get some rest."

Heimdall hummed in farewell as I walked onto the rainbow bridge, heading in the direction of the castle. I took my time, strolling nonchalantly towards the city. The sun was setting and the golden palace was gleaming in all its glory. I admired its grandeur as I approached it, walking past the end of the bridge and turning right, toward my home.

As—clearly—I was not royalty, I skirted the castle and headed towards the congregation of medium-sized houses, in which the majority of Asgardians called home. I skilfully manoeuvred my way through the maze of criss-crossed streets, until I reached a familiar building. My home.

I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out a small key, using it to unlock the front door. As soon as I entered the house, an avalanche of exclamations hit me in the face like a well aimed slap.

"Wait, hold on!" I demanded above the pandemonium. "What is going on?"

My mother stood up from her position at the kitchen table and rushed towards me, grabbing my arms in excitement. "You must bathe and get ready for bed, Abi," she insisted, pushing me in the direction of my room. "You need to be washed and well-rested for tomorrow."

I rolled my eyes in contempt and shrugged away from my mother's touch. "Fine, just stop pestering me," I exclaimed, opening my bedroom door and closing it in her face. She did not object, only huffed in indignation.

"Early night, Abi," she instructed, walking away. I groaned, flopping unceremoniously onto my bed, facedown. I screamed into my pillow, but the sound was so muffled that I doubted anyone could hear it.

The absolute last thing I wanted to do was follow Sif around all day on her heroic missions. The people she chose to associate with were the complete opposite of me. Volstagg was too loud (and hungry), Fandrell was too cocky and flirtatious, Hogun was wise and grounded (he was probably the most tolerable of the group), and then there was Thor. Thor was the son of the Allfather, and—naturally—he was exceptionally arrogant and vexatious, waving his mighty hammer around like he owned the place.

I rolled my eyes at the thought. I had no interest in being around any of them, but I guess I did not really have much of a choice. I shimmied out of my dark purple leather jacket and hung it on the back of my vanity chair, then I stripped off my clothes and undergarments and wrapped a fluffy towel, securely over my body.

I headed over to the second door in my room that led to the washroom. I turned on the shower and stood impatiently—tapping my foot—waiting for the water to become hot. When it finally did, I discarded my towel and stepped under the warm rain. I tilted my head up, so that my face was spattered by the hot, steamy water. It was calming on my skin and I let out the breath that I was holding, removing my face from the spray.

I stayed underneath the shower for quite a long time. So long, in fact, that my mother started rapping aggressively at the door, telling me to get out.

I turned off the faucet and stepped out of the shower, picking up my towel and drying my sopping hair. I headed back into my bedroom and changed into my purple silk pyjamas, before opening my door to see my family, waiting at the dinner table.

I walked out into the living area and sat down in my designated seat. My sister, Sif, was wearing matching pyjamas, made of grey silk, instead of purple. She looked out of place, without her iconic armour on, but it made her look more human and less fierce.

My parents held up their hands and Sif and I grasped their hands on each side. We closed our eyes and silently prayed to the gods of Valhalla, thanking them for our privileges and opportunities.

After a few moments, we disconnected our hands and looked down at the plates before us. It was not the most amazing meal—shoddy in comparison to the delicacies eaten at celebrations at the palace—but it was homemade, and made with love by my mother.

We ate in silence and after everyone had finished, my mother ordered Sif and I to go straight to bed. "You will both be up early tomorrow. You need your rest."

Sif nodded, standing up and heading back to her room, completely ignoring me. She shut the door behind her and made no noise for the remainder of the evening.

I sighed. Sif had no interest in spending time with me. I would just be a burden to her; a dead weight on her quest to become the greatest warrior Asgard has ever seen. I already knew that I would be shunted aside, forced to observe from a distance, due to her not wanting to associate with me. As much as I disliked Sif's attitude towards me, while she was around her friends, I was hopeful that she would leave me alone and let me watch, without getting involved.

I pushed my chair back, standing up and tucking it back in. I thanked my parents and retreated to my bedroom, shutting the door gently. I walked around my room, blowing out the candles, situated around the room, before pulling back my blanket and sliding beneath it. I blew out the final candle—the last remaining source of light—plunging my room into darkness. The only remaining light was visible underneath the door.

I rolled onto my back and stared blankly at the ceiling, already dreading the day to come. Closing my eyes, I floated into a dreamless sleep.