Loki's Endgame

Epilogue

King Módi
4711 Years Later.

Módi rides through the endless forests surrounding the Palace of Asgard, the place he calls home. His horse had never been faster, his bow never cleaner, his arrows never missing, the wind flowing through his golden hair, held down only by the heavy crown atop his head.

Just because he was king, it didn't mean he couldn't have any fun.

He had taken the throne fairly young. His mother had birthed him late, only deciding to marry his father long into their lives together. They had known each other since childhood... but had been captivated first and foremost by the glory of war, long before they were captivated with one another.

Módi shared that genetic trait. If he could... he would hunt and party and have fun forever. Marriage would come later.

His mother was now far too old for war, a superior and wise woman of the Valkyrie training camp.

His father had left this realm only two years ago, the greatest and most benevolent King in Asgard's long history, finally succumbing to old age and his love of deeply unhealthy foods.

He hoped he was making his father proud, ruling with integrity and honour. His uncle had counselled him intensely during the first few months of his reign, as he had done for countless eons with his father.

Módi's uncle was the only person who made him see why he would ever want to get married. He and his aunt were an inseperable, omnipotent and a truly exceptional team in all aspects of their lives.

Maybe he would seek a betrothed after all...

Módi comes to a sudden stop on his horse, lurching forward in the saddle. Something was wrong, something in his intuition was telling him to turn back, to ride home as quickly as possible...

And he could never ignore his gift.

He kicks his horse into a gallop, clicking the bow back onto his side as he flies out of the forest and through the endless meadows of flowers on the outskirts of the city, the golden spires of his home sitting directly in his eyeline.

He canters through the stone courtyard of the Palace as a Lady in Waiting, his dearest lady in waiting, Embla, runs through the stone archway, holding her dress as she sprints.

"How goes, Embla?"

He looks upon her panicked face, his heart panging in acceptance of something very wrong.

Sometimes, he hated his gift.

"King Módi, Your Majesty, you must come quick, it's your Uncle Loki!"

He runs through the halls of the Palace, up the marble staircases to the Chambers where his uncle had resided for most of his life. He bursts through the door, his eyes adjusting to the dim candlelight. Around the room, the flames flicker off glass Midgardian photographs of friends and family from a previous time; soldiers, scientists, a girl with hair like the candlelight, a man wielding the same ancient bow in which still sat against Módi's hip.

He had been everywhere, he and his aunt, the whole of Midgard and then across the galaxy, seeing everything and everyone, taking their friends along with them on adventures across the stars. He stares at a few of the photographs on the table beside the door. Uncle Loki and Aunt Y/N in their youth, so beautiful and full of life, so much love for one another filling their eyes, reflected in their joyous smiles.