I'll shuffle my itunes songs, and i'll tell you what our song is

Sunday — Hurts

My character mumbling something about yours in their sleep

    To be completely honest, the heat did strange things to Loki, not just physically. If he was exposed to it for too long he was at risk of passing out, even dying if conditions were extreme, and even if he was not outside for that long did not mean he was effected somehow. All day he’d been in and out of their inn room, popping from shade to shade as best as he could and struggling when there was no shade nearby to hide beneath. Even if he was beneath the protective cover of a tree’s leaves the air around him was still stuffy and hot, making his entire outdoor experience miserable no matter where he went.

    While he certainly did not pass out, he did manage to get a headache and went to bed that night with his temples pounding and a thin sheen of sweat still slicked on his forehead. Thankfully, the nights were much cooler than the days, but still he yearned for freezing temperatures to relieve him of this pain.

    His dreams that night were weird. Normally, Loki didn’t dream and he certainly never talked in his sleep, but had he been awake during the duration of this he would’ve blamed it on the heat, which was partially true. The heat did weird things to him and this was just one of the many. “Quinn, stop,” he grumbled into his pillow, swatting his hand as if he were swatting someone in his dream. “We’re in public, ya can’t do tha’. Stop it.”

    Another swat followed by Loki’s wriggling body. “Quinn, I said quit it. We’re bein’ watched. People’ll see. Shush. Don’t touch me there.”

    Once awake in the morning, Loki wouldn’t remember his dream nor would his headache be gone. He’d sit up in bed, rub his eyes, and wince at the bright light shining through the window and making his head throb.

Before his crowning, Loki was actually a mortal. A somewhat normal mortal, in a sense. His mother, Farbauti, gave birth to him one wintry night  when their town was being attacked. They, and the others of their town, were accused of using magic, the kind of magic that led people to believe in things such as witches. Farbauti sent her son down the river in a basket (y'know, old stereotypical way) and he was later found the next morning by Frigga (not Odin). The letter tucked in with him was short and to the point, saying his name was Loki and that whoever held the letter should take good care of him.

So Frigga and Odin both did, raising him as their own with their other son, Thor. He wasn't exactly told about his birth parents, mostly because, several days after they had found Loki, word came about the burned village and how several men were searching for one of the missing children, the only one in the village who had apparently been saved and was still alive. Frigga and Odin did the best they could to protect little Loki. He was never found by those people, and was presumed dead.

Thus, they never told Loki, since his family was accused of using black magic.

Of course, he did find out some of the truth, after talking with Thor and some of his friends, and he demanded answers.

At the time, Odin, who was a very rich man and owned a lot of land and buildings, had every intention to give his work up to Thor when the time came. Loki, was expected to help Thor during that time, but the boy wanted nothing to do with it. So, the relationship between Loki and Odin was rocky at best and finding out he had been lied to made it a little worse. His mother, however, was very close to him.

After he moved out and went off on his own, he saw a lot of the world and learned a lot of things. He wasn't crowned the Raven King until he was well in his thirties, but when he was he kept it a secret. However, the town he was living in "found out", meaning to say one of the villagers saw him with the black eyes, speaking to ravens and doing things that could very well have been witchcraft. He was sentenced to death by hanging, however, when they slipped the bag over his head, he broke loose and attacked. Ravens came to his aid, shifting into their human forms and killing almost every single person who was attending his execution. The ones who were spared were ordered to go to neighboring villages and towns and spread the word about the Raven King. Of course, they were given some nasty wounds in the process.

That's how his legacy began.