I remember asking myself if I was supposed to be lost here on Sakaar forever. . . .

that was a month ago

How long has passed for Loki, I wonder? After all, two weeks passed here when only five(ish) minutes passed for Thor.

I'm still the champion of the Grandmaster's contest, but I feel . . . vile. I've had to kill so many people, and so many people have tried to kill me. This isn't the same as when I fought against Hela and her zombies. That was different, it was to protect everyone. But this is just brutal and cruel. Most of the people I fight are forced to fight, like I am.

I've decided I hate Sakaar more than anything.

And I've decided that I miss cheeseburgers and root beer floats more than anything on Earth.

But, I miss Loki more than anything in the universe. I wonder if he misses me more than anything too?

Grandmaster is having a guest come over next week, the Chronicler-or was it Collector? I can't remember. I hardly listen to his ramblings anymore. I just mope around and well that's 'bout it. Except for fight. I fight and sleep.

I'm prepping for a fight right now, in fact.

I wear a green tank top and black tights. I have three daggers a forearm's length each, an axe taller than me, and my green/silver sword.

I remembered how I came to the sword.

I was washing the floors of the castle, and I was almost finished, and, just as I was lifting the bucket of water, someone clamped their hands down on my shoulders. I screeched and dropped the bucket on the floor, spilling the water everywhere. It took me hours to clean all the water up again. Loki felt so bad, but I dismissed it, and didn't think twice about it. The next day, he gave me the sword as an apology. I saw how bad he felt in his eyes, and I also saw a spark of something else in his eyes when I yelped in delight at my present.

It was a gift of love. And I can't believe I forgot about it.

I sigh, entering the arena. Sure the people cheer for me, and I'm famous, but I hate it. I never wanted to be famous if I had to do stuff that I hate, and stuff that I find morally questionable. I can't understand why the citizens find this so awesome and entertaining. Then again, I never knew why the Romans, or whatever, liked watching gladiators fight either.

The crowd roars with glee as I raise my axe for show. There are some banners with my face on them, and I find it weird to look at. People scream my name and whistle.

I lower my weapon and glower at the audience, but they just cheer louder.

My opponent has already entered the ring, he's tall and mean-looking. Broad-shouldered and covered in scars. His weapon is a broad sword. Sighing, I feel my grip tighten on my axe.

I step forward and brandish my weapon menacingly. He comes forward as well, but he sprints at me.

I leap to the side and swipe at him, but I miss.

He spins and slices my bare arm. It's just a scratch, but it stings. I swing my axe across his chest, and he reels back in pain.

The crowd roars, like the blood coursing through my body, and the blood gushing slowly from the man's chest.

I raise my axe, but he kicks me in the stomach first, sending me spiralling back. I recover quickly, and slam the axe down on his chest, blood spurts across my face. I gag at the scent and the coppery taste.

He staggers to his feet, and I shut my eyes and veer the large axe towards him. From the sickening swish, and yell of the crowd, I know I hit him spot on.

I open my eyes and see my opponent lying on the ground, lifeless. His eyes are perhaps the most terrifying thing I have ever seen.

Blunt, cloudy, dead, hellish.

I exit the arena, hot, burning tears running down my undoubtedly red face. I sprint down the corridors and up stairs to get to my room.

As soon as I'm their, I launch myself onto the bed, bury my face in the pillows and scream. And sob. And scream some more. And sob some more.

I do this for hours, until a fitful sleep comes to me.

~~

My dreams don't comfort me anymore.

Instead, they haunt me.

They torment me with visions of those I killed, and those I may never see again. My mother is in them.

Her sweet, angelic face.

But, for some reason, I never see my father, and I can't remember him at all. So far, I've remembered everything, except my dad.

I search for a while, until I find myself back in the grassy clearing where I keep seeing Odin.

"Odin, who was my father?"

"He was not from Asgard, that is all I know about him." He replies, without turning to look at me.

"Is-is he still alive?" I ask, afraid of the answer.

"I do not know, child."

I sigh, "thanks anyways," and leave the clearing, making my way back to my room.

Not from Asgard? Then he was from Midgard maybe?

Maybe I'll find him when I get off this godforsaken planet.

Maybe you'll never find him. Maybe he's dead.

Thanks.

What? maybe he is.

And maybe he's a unicorn, or a planet. *cue eye roll from not_ person*

I doubt he'd be one of those.

I was being sarcastic.

I know, I just like irritating you.

Well, you do a good job of it.

I know, I'm a professional.

Oh, shut up.

I glance out the window, it's dark out now. Like my soul.

Stop being so dramatic. *cue eye roll from _ person*

Thought I told you to shut up?

You did, and I didn't listen.

Whatever. I look out the window again.

Loki, where are you now?

~~~~

~Loki POV~

I glance around, trying to see (Y/n), but I can't see her in the crowd. Too many people.

"Thor, where's (Y/n)?"

"I thought she was with you."

"I thought she was with you!"

Thor looks at me blankly, and I return the look. Heimdall clears his throat, "I can try to find her, if you want."

"Yes! Hurry, she could be anywhere!"

Heimdall concentrates, searching. Then he looks up in surprise, "She's on Sakaar. And she looks pretty rough."

"Rough?!" I yell, "What-"

"She's um, crying into a pillow... and, uh, bleeding from her arm. I think she's a gladiator now."

"What! No, no, no! C'mon, we have to find her! Thor, let's go!" I yell, gathering some weapons.

"Wait Loki! I can't I-I have responsibilities, I have to lead these people. We need to find a new home..."

I turn and look at him incredulously, "What are you talking about? Heimdall can lead while you're gone! Please Thor... help me." I ask, staring into his eyes, er, I mean eye.

He looks over at Heimdall, and Heimdall nods.

"Yes Loki, I will help you rescue (Y/n)."

"Great, let's go." I smirk, I can't wait to be reunited with (Y/n).

A/N-

Hi guys! Happy new year!

Did you enjoy? I even got a little of Loki's POV for you guys!

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