Chapter Text
The light shining in his eyes was blinding, and Loki blinked against it. It was rather unnecessary, thought the God. After all, he was complying. Relatively, anyway; he couldn’t stop his witty remarks, even if he tried. But he held out as long as he could, and now it was time for the tell-all.
“So?” questioned the voice from the other side of the table. “Are you finally ready to explain yourself? How exactly did all this happen?”
Loki looked right into the camera and it’s small, blinking red light with a crooked sort of grin. “Now that, is a long story...”
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Loki wondered if Thor could have handled a crushing defeat as gracefully as he did. Then again, Thor probably wouldn’t have wanted to lose, unlike his brother. At least Loki’s mind was his own again, even if his body was still aching for more reasons than he wanted to remember. But he was free.
The Avengers hadn’t kept a close enough eye on him. Really, it was their fault that he slipped away. Besides, he’d done something he was sure they would never in a million years guess.
He shapeshifted into a cat.
Perhaps it should have been odd to take on an animal’s shape, but it was second nature for Loki at this point. His paws moved swiftly over the sidewalks and into an alleyway. Though being a cat was a great cover, he couldn’t use his magic to teleport himself away in that form. Checking around him, he prepared to change back to his usual form, but before he could shed the sleek black disguise, you were crouching before him.
“Hey there, little guy,” you smiled, offering him a small part of your cheese stick. “What’s a pretty boy like you doing out here all alone, huh?”
He harshly meowed and hissed, but didn't do anything to actually hurt you. He realized he was probably a bit too well groomed for you to think he was a stray. Despite his best effort, he couldn’t help himself from sniffing at the offered food.
“That’s right,” you smiled with a soft voice. “You can have it.”
Slowly, and without breaking eye contact, he put the snack in his mouth, chewing carefully. After all, he wasn’t used to Midgardian food. Unfortunately, it was rather delicious. Even worse, he preened under your attention when you went to pet his head. He even went as far as to walk against your palm, letting you pet all along his back. He just hoped it was only his feline form that was lowering his inhibitions.
“Want to come with me, huh boy?” You carefully picked him up. He was too tired of fighting to resist. “There you go,” you whispered, petting him once more.
After examining him, you began to walk with the small, now purring bundle of warmth in your arms. Upon closer inspection, you found he had a number of scratches and cuts on him. You kept whispering calming reassurances to Loki. Even if you didn’t know it, he really needed it.
Next thing he knew, you’d brought him to the vet. He resisted a bit as they took him back into a checkup room. Once he saw you were going to be allowed to go with him, he calmed considerably. He held still as they searched his body with a scanner, but there was no microchip for them to find. Without a collar, he was deemed a stray, and you left with him in your arms again.
“Don’t worry, boy, I’ll take care of you,” you said, scratching behind his ears.
That evening you took some photos of him, and the next day you put up missing cat posters. Despite the fact you were hoping to keep him, you wanted to make sure you weren’t keeping him from his family.
A week later with no reply, you made a trip to the pet store, stocking up on everything you’d need. Except for the collar. You hadn’t exactly figured out a name for your new friend yet, and vowed to keep a careful eye on him until then.
On the matter of names, you were currently trying to figure one out for him. Loki sat on the windowsill, tail lazily swishing back and forth as gentle rain tapped the window, blotting out the view with large drops on the glass. You tapped your chin with the capped marker as you tried to figure out some more ideas on your white board.
As you wrote down another possibility, Loki leapt from his perch to a low bookshelf before reaching the ledge of the white board. You’d printed Muffin, Mittens, Dusk, Shadow, Ebony in a bulleted list.
“So, what do you think? I’m leaning towards Ebony.”
He meowed in protest and began rubbing up against the board, erasing the options. He looked at you as if to say “Really? This is the best you can do?”
“Alright", you laughed. “I don’t suppose you have any bright ideas then."
He quickly looked around, trying to find a way to communicate with you. He had a plan: Stay here and recuperate. Then, when the search for him had died down a bit, he’d leave. Maybe he’d even be able to briefly thank you for kindness, in some way or another.
Suddenly, he realized the TV was on, and he was just in luck; they were reporting on him. He hopped on the television stand and began trying to signal his name to you on the banner with the headline. You looked at him for a minute, perplexed that he seemed to have such a deep understanding of what you were saying. Then something lit up behind your eyes.
“I’ve got it! How about Mischief?”
Loki glanced at the screen, seeing the word there. He supposed it made sense you went for that instead of his actual name. After all, he’d just attacked the city. Well, he thought, close enough. He meowed in approval and rubbed himself against your legs. You picked him up, scratching behind his ears and earning a purr.
“Well, Mischief, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”
And somehow, Loki found he couldn’t agree more.