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“Excuse me.”
You wiggle yourself out of the crowded subway station and onto the concrete mezzanine with a click in your step. The sound of heels echo behind you as you navigate through passing bodies, gently touching their shoulders to move through, your fingers careful enough to not stray too long. Once up the stairs and into the light, golden rays of sunshine warm your face and greet you like an old friend. You smile to yourself as you bask in the Friday morning glory.
Little moments like these make you realize you made the right decision to pursue a master’s program in the city of New York City. Sure, the beginning of your journey had definitely been rocky and full of challenges but you had a lot of support surrounding you. You had felt one with the city, enjoying the fast pace it had to offer.
Yet the bold move never got rid of the odd feeling of feeling homesick for a place you’ve never been to; a yearning you’ve always had since childhood.
Up ahead you spot the magnificent architecture of the art museum. The particular art course you’re taking has a “field trip” component and luckily for you, you happen to procrastinate the assignment. You would think that having a bachelor’s degree would grant you instant wisdom about dealing with school problems but apparently it just makes you more of the same. You flash the man at the front your school I.D. to give you free access into the museum. You pat the sticker onto your chest and walk into the open space before you.
You stare in awe at the different art pieces the museum has to offer. You opted for a more low-key art museum on the list the professor provided. This wasn’t the Museum of Modern Art or the Louvre but it was spectacular nonetheless. Sculptures depicting various Greek gods and heavenly angels line the white corridor. The attention to detail in the marble stuns you and you wonder how anything like this could ever be possible. In your moment of awe, you accidentally stumble into an innocent bystander.
“Pardon me,” a smooth voice begins to apologize.
You shake your head profusely. “Oh, you’re fine. I should’ve been more careful.”
You look up to see the man and a breath hitches at the back of your throat. The man is absolutely stunning and strikingly handsome. Dark raven colored hair that reaches his shoulders with an impeccable dark suit that is way over-the-top for a museum but it’s fitting. You meet his eyes and they’re a beautiful shade of blue.
Something about him feels familiar.
The man tilts his head which causes you to pull yourself away from your mind. He doesn’t look upset or even curious, rather, his eyes appear to be almost desperate; sorrow. Ignoring the look, you push a hair behind your ear and you chuckle to yourself.
“I, uh, sorry for staring. You…dress really well.” You gesture to his body and you can’t help but bite your bottom lip. You turn around to walk away from the awkward situation. You can feel a fiery sensation crawl along your skin as if someone is watching you and you think it’s the mysterious man. A given, you think to yourself. You did just bump into him and complimented him out of the blue. You continue on your way into a different exhibit.
The museum's high glass ceilings allows natural light to seep through and the warm burnt orange color of the walls surrounds you in a sense of home. You continue your slow stroll through each art piece, taking in the different frames and unique art styles of each one. Even though time seems to pass quickly, you can’t seem to shake the feeling from the man before. Such piercing blue eyes, almost as if you seen them before.
You navigate into a much quieter corridor that contains paintings from the renaissance era with a focus on mythology. You place your hands behind your back and take in each art piece. Some depict valiant fights, others showcasing much more leisurely activities. Somehow you found yourself musing over these paintings in particular than the others; almost as if you were being pulled in by an invisible rope. You lift your eyes from the small canvas to glance over at the bigger canvas that covers a good area on the adjacent wall. You observe the painting before you and soak in the details.
Before you is a couple, one with dark black hair that falls to his shoulders and next to him…the woman looks an awful lot like you. The features appear to be the same: hair and eye color identical, the right skin shade, and the facial structure that matches your own. Your heart rate quickens as you look away from your eerie mythological doppelgänger to the man right next to her. He reminds you of the man you bumped into earlier in the corridor. Though, that’s not possible, right? This just has to be a coincidence on a much grander scale.
You rush to the plaque that describes the painting before you. You feel yourself become cold as your eyes stare at the words:
Loki and his soulmate-
No, that's impossible.
“I thought I’d lost you.”
His voice. The sound of footsteps come closer and closer until the man stands by your left side.
“There’s a reason why you looked at me the way you did,” you manage to get out after your state of shock. You can see the sparks in random memories flash by in your mind. They’re short and quick, almost like you are witnessing neuronal synapses firing. It’s overwhelming to say the least as you continue to stare at the painting.
That’s you, truly you.
You lick your chapped lips and move to face Loki. “I vaguely remember.”
Asgard had been more beautiful in the spring.
Flowers of different colors bloom everywhere near the palace. Water glistens as buildings catch the reflection and shine brilliantly against the sun. The floral scent surrounds you two as Loki captures your lips and you melt into his arms. You smile midway into the kiss, feeling the gazes of curious onlookers. You can’t help but giggle as Loki makes a snarky remark about them.
You felt secure in that moment.
Then…Ragnarök.
From the glorious, picturesque memory turns into a brutal scene. The smell of death permeates the air and you feel like you’re going to be sick.
“I have to help the others.” You drive your sword into another un-dead soldier. Loki squints his eyes, confused by what you are proposing.
“Little dove, that’s suicide,” Loki’s voice almost breaks a bit at the end. You can feel it in the pit of your stomach but you know you have to protect your people. You allow the tears to freely fall from your eyes.
“Then, my love,” you place a gentle hand on Loki’s cheek, “we will meet again, in the hall of Valhalla or in another life. Know that this is not a goodbye. You go on and help the refugees. I know how to take care of myself.”
He’s hesitant of letting you, the love of his life, his soulmate, go but you’re right. Loki leans down to kiss you one last time-
“I died, didn’t I?’
Loki shifts his weight to one leg. “Your death was not in vain. You helped many of our people escape the destruction of Ragnarök. You gave your life to help others; a quality fit for a queen.”
The word “queen” rolls off your tongue and you lift your eyes up once again to meet his eyes. Loki is testing the waters, not overstepping the boundaries you have set. You reach for his hand and he gladly obliges as he wraps his much larger hands around your much smaller ones.
“How long has it been? Since I-” You shake your head at the thought. Loki rubs his thumb across the front of your hand in short strokes.
“Since my reincarnation?”
Loki takes in a steady breath in and exhales slowly. “Well, on Asgard, it would be almost a year and a half. However, on Midgard, time happens much more quickly.”
You nod your head as you digest this information. It’s strange, foreign even, to know that you lead a life before this one. Your past life lingers in your mind like tiny fragments, not all completely there. You feel a connection between you and Loki, something incredibly natural and comforting. You know to trust him. If it weren’t for him and his patience, you might have broken down on the spot.
“I can’t promise I will be the exact same person. My memories are askew ”
“Of course. I don’t expect you to remember everything. We will take this slowly,” Loki reassures you. The gentle smile that lightens up his face brings you warmth. Your body begins to unwind as you begin to understand your reality. There is nothing to be afraid of anymore. You are finally reunited with the love of your life.
You let out a soft laugh. “Most definitely slowly.”
You don’t realize that you still have your fingers intertwined with Loki’s but it doesn’t matter. He’s your soulmate after all.
“We have a lot to catch up on, my love,” you say as you temporarily let go of his hand to spin around then get a hold of his elbow. Loki looks down to see you nestle your cheek on his shoulder and smiles.
“Where shall we begin?”