Multifandom Imagines

Loki (Mythology Based) - Part 3

Midgard has proven to be much friendlier than you could have ever imagined. Beginning a new life here wasn't easy in the first few years. There was, of course, the option of going by your Goddess name and appealing to the Midgardians naïve nature, to make them serve you, but you couldn't see any kind of point in doing so. You were a traitor, no longer a Goddess, stripped of all titles. No longer Astrid, the Goddess of Magick, just Y/n. But Y/n is exactly who you wanted to be when you arrived to Midgard.

It didn't take you long to realize that even though the other Gods despised you now, the humans didn't. Maybe the fact that the so beloved Astrid has separated herself from the disgusting reign of Odin is exactly what makes a select group of Midgardians love her even more. They still venerate Astrid, pray to her, but you never interact with them. You never show your real identity to them. No point in giving them – or yourself – fake hopes.

Working as a gardener and a florist has actually been one of the best choices you could have ever made here. You earn enough to afford a really nice apartment.

Balder has also been of help during these years, secretly visiting you to bring you anything that could help you still practice your magick in peace, without Odin knowing your location and following to bring his punishment.

"I still can't understand how you can live between these filthy humans, Astrid" he states, throwing a disgusted look out of the window of your apartment, his eyes following a group of young Midgardians walking on the street.

"Y/n!" you remind him sharply. Balder has been having a hard time using your birth name, instead of the Goddess one. He took your leaving harder than you imagined and in the first years he tried to convince you to return to Asgard, saying that he could make a deal with Odin to take you back in. But you refused every time, to his exasperation. "Midgard isn't as bad as you think, Balder. It's certainly more peaceful than Asgard."

You smile at him, letting your last words sink in, as a reminder of why you left in the first place. The war in Asgard begun as planned. Vanir and Aesir died in huge numbers, leaving both side disheartened and questioning the reason of the war. It ended without any actual conclusions, just with a lot of funerals, feasts and mourning to look after. All for nothing, just as you had foreseen. You stop yourself from asking the names of the dead. There is one name you hope to not hear in that list and hearing it might destroy you, so you would rather not know.

"It just isn't the same without you there, Sassa" he looks at you, sincerity plastered all over his face.

Sassa. A diminutive of Astrid. You decide to let it slide this time and you take his hand into yours, while resting the other on his shoulder, squeezing calmly.

"For you. It isn't the same for you. But the rest don't care, Balder. It's better this way" you feel your heart sink as you speak the words, so you rush to add: "Plus, you can come visit me here, when you feel like annoying me some more."

You giggle, as Balder retracts his hand, a flash of amusement in his eyes, barely visible even to you, who knows him like none of the other Gods know him. Your bold and brave brother, a soldier prepared to sway his sword at anyone threatening Asgard, not afraid to shed blood to keep the All-Father safe – a weapon in the eyes of Odin. That's how Odin sees all his children. Balder, Thor, you... And if one of you defies the role that was chosen for you before your birth, you're a traitor. But Balder isn't just a weapon either. He's kind and intelligent, he can read your heart in a few seconds, like no one else. Odin didn't completely get to him, like he got to Thor.

"How long until Odin realizes where I'm going though?" he hisses in distress.

The thought of Odin finding you and bringing his revenge onto you has crossed your mind several times. You thought of how he would do it – send Thor to break Midgard into two with his thunders, letting the earth engulf you in the process or maybe come by himself, to make sure you would feel his rage as he locks you in a prison of your own mind.