Say my name! - Loki & Tom Hiddleston fanfiction

Part 2

The man

It was dark behind the stage, shapes and colours muting down and running, morphing into each other. It was far from silent here; even though the sounds from the hall were muffled, he could hear how a large crowd filled the seats. They were all movie or comic fans that came to hear more about the second Thor movie, The Dark World.

The steps to the stage were trimmed with aluminum strips, dimly reflecting the small light that was integrated in the top step. Two dark shapes huddled together at the bottom of the steps, their heads close to each other as they hunched over the illuminated screen of a tablet device. One of them looked up at the sound of footsteps and scrunched his face a little, peering out into the dark, before he broke a smile.

"Good to see you, Tom!" He grabbed the hand that was offered and pressed it heartily. "Looking good, my man!"

Shoulders were patted and half-hugs were exchanged. It was one of the things he had to get used to when coming to the States; the amount of familiarity, touches and compliments that were dealt out in every conversation. He'd never considered himself to have a stiff upper lip, though dealing with some of the people in the film business had made him unsure about that little part of his personality. The touches were fine, he believed in hugs and friendliness all around; it was the way people talked, there was a very fine line between sincerity and insincerity and sometimes that line wasn't there at all. But this was the man that had ignited the fuse for his rocket to fame.

"Always a pleasure, Kevin," he said warmly and turned to the second man.

The president of Marvel Studios put a hand on the shoulder of the man with the tablet in his hand and gestured between the two men with his other hand. "This is Chris, our host for this little spiel."

"A pleasure, man," the man said, shaking his hand. "You're looking great, Tom! Or should I say Loki?" He laughed heartily, his face scrunching up with pleasure.

Tom laughed with him. "I answer to both these days."

***

The god

It had been a while since he manifestated himself on Midgard; even more, it had been a while since he manifestated himself at all. That's why he did it carefully, scoping his surroundings first in a concealed form.

The mortal man that carried his name was here somewhere, though the exact location of that somewhere was a bit of a mystery at the moment. He found himself at a huge event, with more people together than he had ever seen in the old days. The people's behaviour had not changed however, they were still clinging together like sheep, milling in the cavernous space in small groups.

Most people were dressed in contemporary clothes, colourful fabrics with pictures or letters on it covering their upper bodies, with sturdy breeches in all shades of blue. Jeans, he knew, the garment was somewhat of a uniform for all genders. Although the females had more diversity in clothing: a lot of them were showing large parts of their legs sticking out from skirts in lengths that could certainly count on the approval of the god. He let his eyes roam over the bodies of the young females, taking in every dip and curve. There were some exquisite specimens here, some of them wearing clothes that were nothing more than a second layer of skin, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. It was almost a disappointment, getting everything served on a platter without having to do anything for it.

The god followed the long legs of a particularly attractive young female up to her hips, where a leather bodice in the same colour as her knee-high laced up boots wrapped her curvy body. She wore gold-coloured plates on her arms and chest and a long green cape flowed down from her shoulders. Long, raven black hair framed her face, a covering for her real hair, held in place by an unconventional battle helmet with long, curved horns. The god recognised the helmet from his depictions that were so popular nowadays. This was how people saw him. And apparently this was what they wanted to look like too, because now he concentrated on the gold helmet he discovered more of them in the throngs of people in the large building. There were not a lot of them, but the golden horns made them stand out. They were all different, yet there were some characteristics that they all shared. Raven black hair, dressed in dark leather, complemented with green and gold. And that helmet. As if those horns were not entirely impractical in battle. They looked good though, he had to give 'm that.

The more the god grounded in this place, the more he took shape. A shape that was more familiar to him than that of the false god in black, green and gold. He wandered around the halls, absorbing everything that happened around him. Every now and then someone would call out to him, complimenting him on his costume. Some of the people only made a hand gesture, sticking their thumbs up in the air with balled fists. The sign was positive, if the rest of their body language was anything to go by. Not that he doubted the benevolence of the gestures and remarks that came his way; they filled his chest with a warm, prickling fire. They made him grow.