After pausing just a moment or two, Loki lowered himself to her side. It was a simple setup; one for someone who came and went and tried not to get too tangled. He envied her that, although he knew better. She always got tangled. And then they had been separated and he had wasted so much time in that damn cell…
“I feel as if there is much we could do together, Summer,” he murmured, trying not to remember the last time they had been beside each other this way—trying to pretend he was stronger now.
She folded one arm behind her head, looking at him out of the corner of one eye in the dim light. With him settled beside her, the mood was somehow like a sleepover, softly talking of strange things that were hard to face in the day. “This better not be about ruling the Realms again.” Her tone was light, though, and her eyes were crinkled with a smile. As usual, he was concealing something, but she’d coax it out of him in due time. “What is it you want to do besides leave Asgard?”
“Well is that not just the problem,” he murmured, staring up through the trees and into the far reaching expanse of the night sky. He felt somehow lost in it; vertigo from the ground looking up. “I am a king with no kingdom. I know I am destined for greatness, somehow,” he added, trying to rein in his defensive tone.
“What’s your rush?” Summer asked, pausing to yawn in the middle of the words. “If I understand correctly, you have centuries. Be the king of mages.” She threw a hand out to brush his arm. “You have so much magic … “