Chapter Text
CHAPTER 1
LOKI
My body ached from scores of hurts. Fights on Sakaar; skirmishes on Asgard; and finally – here – the battle that would determine my fate.
I pressed deeper into the flickering shadows, desperate for an escape I knew could not be found. Where would I flee? I was trapped in a ruined spaceship, limping through space with a cargo of corpses: - the bodies of my people. The last ruined dregs of Asgard.
Thor and I seemed to lurch from one apocalypse to another. If I allowed it, the cataclysmic destruction of my world would rise like a feral monster in the back of my mind and swallow me whole. It lurked there, immense and hungry. Teetering on the edge and ready to lunge at my consciousness. I’d been in many dire situations before – mostly, if I were truthful, of my own making – but always, Asgard had been behind me. The might of my father. My brother.
Odin is dead. Asgard is dead. Thor…
I peeked around a ruined mess of pipes and shredded metal. Thor still lived, though he’d been subdued, bound by broken strips of the very ship around us. His single eye glared defiance and hatred at the Mad Titan, but it was a wasted effort; my brother was defeated. I could admit that while I’d plot and scheme to depose him, had manoeuvred myself into all kinds of political situations for the opportunity to stab him in the back, I would tear through armies to protect him from harm.
Fire pressed in from all sides. The dead had no fear of it, and the living paid it no heed. It was clear the invaders planned to take the Tesseract and leave us to our fate.
One of Thanos’s lackies approached him, the Tesseract held in his hands. Though I knew of Thanos, his myth had been in the form of stories told at feasts, of exploits recounted and worlds conquered. Father had admired his style, if not his execution.
Given that his next execution was likely to be of a more literal kind, I wondered what Father would make of him now.
There’s no one else left, he said in the back of my mind. For once in your life, do the decent thing and stop him. Stop Thanos. Use that infernal trickery on a real foe.
I scowled, banishing the unwelcome thought. Father would have rushed in. Thor had rushed in. Thanos was a Titan, the last of his race, and would not fall to a mere show of arms. Father’s ghost, the voice of my subconscious, was right – this required trickery and subterfuge.
I entertained a brief, vivid fantasy of the adulation of my people. Their gratitude at defeating this monster.
Our people are dead. The much-missed advice of my mother. Our world is dead. And if you don’t act soon, you’ll be dead too.
Oh, Mother. How I longed to hear her voice rather than a mere recollection.
I focussed on the unfolding scene, trying not to let the chaotic swirl of thoughts distract me. Unless I stopped Thanos here and now, there would be no one left to mourn my world.
I was waiting for the right opportunity to strike. That window was becoming vanishingly small.
“My humble personage bows before your grandeur,” the lackey announced. He was tall and thin, his skin grey and deeply lined. As he approached, Thanos removed his helmet and set it aside, then deactivated his armour. “No other being has had the right, nay, the nobility, to wield not one, but two Infinity Stones.”
Thanos reached out and grasped the Tesseract. The cube appeared small in his huge fingers. He rolled it onto his palm, then closed his hand.
“The Universe lies within your grasp!” the lackey gasped.
With an infinitesimal twitch of his muscles, Thanos crushed the Tesseract.
Blue energy flashed between his fingers, turning to dust that floated away on an invisible, magically-charged breeze.
Now! I thought, willing my body to move. Do it now!
And yet, I couldn’t move. My feet seemed locked to the floor. I was no stranger to fear, but this emotion had my balls in a vice and refused to let go.
I watched, fighting my own terror, as Thanos plucked the newly-revealed Space Stone from his palm and slotted it into a socket on his gauntlet. A wave of blue-tinged energy exploded from his hand, dissipating before it could travel more than a few feet. The background levels of magic made my teeth ache.
Thanos turned his hand from side to side, clearly admiring the way his new Stone sat in the gauntlet.
The mad bastard would see us all slaughtered to further his plans. Who was left to oppose him?
Me.
I can’t do this. The thought cut through my voiceless horror.
Mother’s voice: - You must, my son.
“There are two more Stones on Earth,” Thanos remarked. His voice was deep and soft, pleasant to hear under other circumstances. “Find them, my children, and bring them to me on Titan.”
One of the other lackeys – a tall, well-muscled woman – stepped forward, a massive trident-type weapon in her hand.
“Father, we will not fail you,” she said, sinking to her knees. The others also began to kneel.
Father? These creatures call the Mad Titan their father?
Then I recalled the legend. He was said to take a child from every world he conquered. Mould them into whatever he wished them to become.
Those who wouldn’t bend were broken.
You will not bend Asgard, I thought savagely, finally able to push my terror aside. My world is already broken. There is nothing left to shape.
Sliding false bravado and confidence around me like a second skin, I stepped out from my place of concealment.
It was the work of a moment to formulate a plan, though it was scarcely a plan at all. It was a response. An instinctive reaction. My oldest play from a lifetime of them: - befriend; becalm; betray.
“If I might interject,” I remarked, “if you’re going to Earth, you might want a guide.” I spread my arms wide to indicate myself for the role, keeping my palms open. Look, no weapons! See how harmless I am. “I do have a bit of experience in that arena.”
My lips stretched in a wide, manic grin. The wild background energy of the two Infinity Stones was palpable, a sensation winding along my bones that I could never hope to put into words.
Thanos’s other ‘children’ broke their kneeling position as I approached. The big woman held her trident in front of her, a heavy frown marring her face; the grey-faced man regarded me with disdain, while a third – a big, brutish oaf with a mace as ugly as his face – took a threatening stop forward. I ignored them all, keeping my focus on the Titan.
“Well, if you consider failure experience,” Thanos drawled.
I bit back my hate, balling it into a tiny, dense ball of pain in my chest. This would be a hard sell. The hardest of my life. But I could do it.
I would do it.
“I consider ‘experience’ experience,” I replied, fighting to regulate my tone. “All-mighty Thanos… I, Loki…” I drove my emotions further inward, channelling my pain into the performance. In an intense, serious voice I continued, “Prince of Asgard…” A regretful look at the floor, as if lamenting my heritage. An act so close to my true feelings that it was barely an act. “Odinson…” I looked up again, flicking a brief look at my brother. His eyes were wide and staring, as if he couldn’t believe that after all we’d been through, I would choose to betray him yet again. “The rightful King of Jotunheim… God of Mischief…”
I had little magic left. But for what I had planned, I didn’t need much. I pushed energy into creating a dagger, a gently curved blade as long as my forearm. The handle materialised in my palm. A whisper of thought concealed it between my arm and body.
“I hereby pledge to you my undying fidelity,” I finished.
With each declaration I’d taken a step, slowly coming within range for a strike. With his armour off, all it would take was a lightning-fast slash to his throat.
No point going for the heart. He had a chest like an elephant. I’d need a javelin to pierce those cavernous ribs.
I broke his gaze, turning my eyes downward. Demure and respectful, as a vassal should be.
Now, Mother’s voice whispered.
I lashed out with blinding speed –
Thanos moved impossibly fast, holding the Gauntlet close to his chest. The Space Stone glowed with violent azure light.
A wave of energy clamped around my body, holding me ridged, no matter how wildly I strained. My heart pounded so fast I thought it would burst. My blade had stopped inches from his throat, hovering at the end of my outstretched arm, so close and yet still so far.
Help me, I begged inside the confines of my head, unable even to speak. Norns, Mother, Father, Thor, please –
My blade glowed with a blue-tinged mist, like condensation boiling away from ice. Energy lashed through my body. Instinct told me this was barely more than a lick of power from the Space Stone, yet it burned me as intensely as any fire. I set all my diminished powers against it – magical, physical, mental – but it held fast. How could I possibly hope to prevail against a Cosmic force?
“Undying,” Thanos said, taking my wrist in his right hand. “You should choose your words more carefully.” With a single dismissive movement, he pushed my arm aside. The dagger clattered from my fingers as I lost the ability to grip.
His left hand closed around my throat. I redoubled my efforts to escape, but I had little left to give. No match for the Titan.
With a single casual movement, he lifted me off my feet until we were eye to eye. Agony rampaged through my body. Finally allowed some small measure of movement, I slapped ineffectually at his hands. Choking. Gasping for breath.
My terror crested. I was falling down the calm slopes on the other side, facing the certainty that I was about to die. No fakery. No illusions.
True death.
“You… will never be… a god,” I managed to choke out.
I felt pressure in my face. Mother’s image floated behind my eyes. Father’s. My brother, as he had been, with flowing blonde locks and two functioning eyes. Before I and the Universe had conspired to wreck his world.
Thanos tilted his head to one side. His smile was calm and pleasant. Had I any emotion left to spare, I would have found it utterly terrifying.
He tightened his grip.
I heard a dull crunch.
I couldn’t feel my arms. My legs. But it was only when my lungs ceased to struggle that I realised: - Thanos had snapped my neck.
I kept my family in my mind’s eye until blackness took them from me.
~&~
I had but one memory – agony. I shied away from it, as much as I yearned for it.
There was nothing else in my head. My hall of memories was empty, pain the only shining bauble.
So even though it hurt, I reached for it. Folded my arms around the sensation and held it close to my chest, as if it were a long-lost child.
Child. Lost.
The words sparked more pain, but not of a physical kind. It burned behind my eyes. Twisted at my heart.
There were memories behind both types of pain, I knew. If I could only reach them…
I opened my eyes to a freezing void. It was only as I tried to take a breath that I realised it was the void, space, and I was floating without the protection of a ship.
Fresh pain gripped my body, squeezing with iron fingers until I writhed and twisted. But I would not scream. I couldn’t recall who I was, had no memory of how I’d come to be here, but I knew without a shadow of doubt that I was the kind of person who would not scream.
“Hold, little one.”
The voice was everywhere and nowhere at once. I spun, panicking, trying to control my movement. Drifting through the inky blankness.
For a moment I focussed on a distant nebula, my gaze drawn by the ripple of colours. Blues, greens. Deep, dusty shades of pink. Exquisite. So far away.
My lungs burned. Perhaps they were about to explode.
“Now, that will never do.”
A hand gripped my leg. I felt it even though my body was frozen solid; a distinct touch from some huge creature, but one that had four fingers and a thumb.
Warmth flooded through my limbs. Something crackled. Ice? Yes, ice, breaking across my torso.
Precious oxygen poured down my throat. It was the sweetest sensation I could recall.
“That’s better.”
The hand released me. Panic burned through my stomach – was I about to freeze again, lost in the depths of space?
But no; a figure rippled into sight, her immense form glowing with light. Rich chestnut hair hung in a thick braid over her shoulder. She wore a simple gown, as pale and fresh as the first light of day. Her skin was clear and luminous, untouched by any blemish that I could see. Her dark eyes promised the secrets of the Universe. Her full, motherly figure seemed warm and inviting.
I knew her. Not her name – her purpose – nor even where she hailed from. But on a deeper, more fundamental level, something in her called to something in me.
I tried to speak. My tongue felt fat and sluggish, sticking to the roof of my mouth. I persisted.
“Who…?” I tried again. “Why?” I felt as if I was blindly groping my way to the right question.
The woman laughed. “Your mother told me you would question everything.” Her words caused a pang in my heart, but she allowed me no time to study the emotion. “The course of your life is not yet run, Loki of Jotun. Loki of Asgard. You have a purpose to fulfil.” Her smile was mocking, but I sensed there was no malice to it. “And it will be glorious.”
Her words finally crashed through the pain to my true recollections.
Thor.
Thanos.
My death.
Fresh panic raced through my body like a ravening horde, increasing the breath I’d so recently regained, tightening every limb and making me yearn for escape. But there was no escape, I was floating in the void, the abyss, and this woman, this giant, was taunting me, my own personal Hell –
“Be at peace, Loki.” She touched my shoulder. The panic drained away, leaving me spent. Exhausted. “I gave you life after Thanos took it from you. But there is a price for such things. You will retain much of your power, though I cannot return your Jotun lifespan. You will live a Midgardian sum of years. And… your body will be withered.” She grimaced. “There is nothing I can do to ease the pain of your recovery, child.”
“Who are you?” I demanded. Questions tumbled through my head, questions and possibilities. A second life meant second chances. But for what…?
“My name is Verdandi.” Her smile was gentle. “Though you will not remember my name, and you will not remember our conversation. You may, perhaps, remember my voice…”
“What?” No, this was unacceptable! I needed to know everything –
She reached out. Her fingers brushed my forehead.
Fire burned across my skin, rippling over every inch. My body convulsed, a scream locked in my throat.
Blind, I was blind, and deaf –
I sank into blessed oblivion.