#i also wonder how odin would react to loki becoming the god of stories if he was still alive

[ammy246]

I want Thor and Loki to reunite again so bad. Imagine Thor's reaction to not only his brother being alive, but to him being the God of Stories who saved the multiverse. Thor would be relieved his brother is alive, and happy to see Loki redeeming himself and being a hero fighting by his side.

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 9: The Nine Realms: 101

Chapters: 9/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: Mention of implied non-con, mention of implied past abuse, Mentions of colonialism Relationships: Loki x Reader (But not yet) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), OFC, Heimdall(Marvel), Brunnhilde/Valkyrie(Marvel) Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending, Reader was Once Part of a Board of Paranoid Conspriacy Theorists and has Never Denied Being One of Them, Reader Gets Things Twisted, Loki shows off, Loki is Jealous and Doesn’t Know Why, Time For a History Lesson, My Headcanons; Let Me Show You Them, Writer Loves Worldbuilding, Ode to the Worst World Mythology Book I’ve Ever Read Summary: Reader gets some disturbing ideas from a poorly written world mythology book, and also a joint history/astronomy lesson

Andsvarr would not let you leave the rooms that day, and he did not know when Loki would be back. You understood that the man was a prince and had a great deal of responsibility, but you didn’t know what to do with yourself while you waited.

Saldis had been by, to deliver a disappointingly small stack of English language books.

“They were with the donations.” She explained. “So there’s likely to be more at some time. Until then, this is all we’ve got.”

Four books, that was all. One on world mythology, another on Icelandic history. One astronomy textbook, and the last, a volume of the works of Shakespeare, containing his tragedies.

Well, if all you could do was wait, then it couldn’t hurt to learn a thing or two.

The ‘world mythology’ book was much more of a ‘Greek mythology with a few short entries from everywhere else’ book, but the small Norse section nevertheless contained some rather shocking concepts. You did not recognize the Loki portrayed here, nor the Thor. There were many other names listed, none of whom you had met. Where were the rest of them? Had they all died in the tragedy that brought all of Asgard here to Earth? Or were they just out doing their jobs, like Heimdall, and you simply hadn’t crossed paths yet?

Once you’d read through the tiny section, wondering where the heck this Odin fellow was, you had to turn back to the much larger Greek and Roman section. They probably weren’t the same gods with different names, as you had once surmised, but they were contemporary with the Norse figures, and might help you understand godhood and your relation to it a bit better.

A few hours of reading passed, and the results were not comforting. Either the author had a major bias, or the gods were just kind of terrible. Every story seemed littered with assault and murder, suffering, revenge, and sexual misconduct-to put it delicately! Why could the gods turn humans into other things, but not turn them back? Why was every story so sad? Why so many non-consensual relations? Was that just the nature of dealings between man and god? If so, did the royal brothers simply see everything that had already happened to you-and everything that might happen to you in the future-as completely acceptable and normal? Where were the lines drawn?

Back on the fens, Iron Man had accused Loki of kidnapping you across the sea like it was still the Viking age. Loki hadn’t refuted the claim; he hadn’t even reacted to it. The last time an Asgardian had set foot on this planet, that had been seen as a completely normal thing to do. A legitimate way to get oneself a wife. Or at least, a female slave that they could do whatever they wanted with.

Loki’s time on Earth had been very short. What if he wasn’t up to date yet? What if that was how he saw you? What if he came to expect certain things from you? What might he do if you didn’t provide?

What could you do? Pretty much nothing, that’s what. This was exactly why you didn’t want to be dependent on him, or any man really, for your living conditions. You’d already been with someone who had gotten you into just such a situation. Him, you had been able to walk away from, eventually, though it had left you with scars and baggage. You had no means of escape from Loki.

And he had suddenly gotten so very tactile. Almost the very instant he knew that you would be staying, that he had gotten that concession to let him ‘take care’ of you out of you. Had he taken that as consent? How far was he going to take it? What could you do to fight back? Could you?

You set the book aside, and gazed out the window at the budding city, trying to calm down. Surely you were jumping to too many conclusions. There was no evidence for any of this, except for every entry in that book, which unapologetically painted the gods as major league assholes.

It wormed its way nefariously into your brain. Thousands of years was a long time to do truly awful things, and become jaded about them. Or simply forget they had even happened! A long time to justify, to normalize. What might be hidden, coiled up in his past, waiting to spring out at you? You didn’t know the man!

The book openly described him as a god of evil. Of trickery and lies, of deception. It didn’t seem possible. Evil wasn’t a solid concept. Acts could be evil, deeds could be evil, but evil as a concept was nebulous. It couldn’t be embodied by one person. People could, and did frequently do both.

But what if you were wrong? While you considered yourself as well educated as you could get on your own, it wasn’t as if you had never been fooled before. And if he was basically the god of fooling people, really so cold-hearted and vicious, really just playing a little game with your life, how would you ever know?

You were stuck trusting him, while the only source of information you had said that was a thing you should absolutely never do. So which did you believe; your own brief experiences, or an author who might be biased or might be an actual expert on the subject?

Did it matter? Knowing what he might do to you did you no good if you had no way to escape it. Maybe you should just steel yourself to the idea that he might not be done taking from you.

You were wound tight as a wire by the time you heard him enter the rooms, and you prayed to whoever might be out there that he would just skip checking in on you.

There might be thousands of gods in the universe, but they were all deaf tonight. Loki opened the door without even knocking.

“It’s dinnertime.” Was all he said, clearly expecting you to simply come along. So that’s what you did.

                                                                                   *****

Brunnhilde was a goddess too; the book had said that all Valkyries were. Not goddesses of anything in particular, apparently, but divine nonetheless. You were the only one at the table who was…lesser. Even Heimdall had come in and joined you all for supper.

Why Loki insisted on having you there baffled you. That first night was obviously a formality, but there was no reason to keep bringing you along. You felt even more awkward and out of place tonight, and he still kept touching you!

But with a bunch of gods at the table, maybe you could get a few answers.

“Um, if you don’t mind me asking, where’s Freya?”

Thor hadn’t been expecting the question, but didn’t seem offended by it.

“She’s on Vanaheim, naturally.” He said, as if it were obvious. As if you knew what Vanaheim was.  “Along with her brother, and her father. Among others. Right?”

He looked at Heimdall, who gazed at the ceiling for a long moment.

“Yes.” He said simply.

“Good. They are just elsewhere right now, why?”

“Well, I just wondered why they weren’t here with the rest of you.” You said. The book had said that Heimdall could see anything, anywhere. It looked like that part was true. Did that mean the rest of it was? “Or why you weren’t with the rest of them. Why you decided to relocate here instead of…Vanaheim, was it?”

“The Earth is among the largest of the ni-eight realms.” Thor explained. “There is room for us here. And to be perfectly honest, humankind is much better at adapting to the presence of strangers than any other people I know. It must have something to do with your unusually short lifespans. Or maybe the almost aggressively social nature of your species.”

“What are the eight realms?” you asked. Your book must have skipped over that part, in its brevity.

“I believe an astronomy lesson just got planned for tomorrow.” Loki said.

“History too.” Brunnhilde added. “How’d you like to be the first human in centuries to gain an education in Asgardian history?”

“Second.” Thor muttered very quietly.

Loki and Heimdall seemed to both find that one spot on the ceiling very interesting, while Brunnhilde attempted to stare more information out of Thor.

None of your business. You turned your attention to your serving of creamy yogurt stuff-skyr-and its delicious red berry topping. Why didn’t they have this stuff back home? It was amazing. You didn’t allow Loki to drag you away until you’d finished every bit.

                                                                                     *****

 You ended up in the big library again, in another newish layered dress of green, black, and gold. They weren’t being very subtle about this. It wasn’t that they were bad colors, it was just that they were so very specific.

The prince and the Valkyrie had taken over an entire table, piled it high with books and illustrations. Loki waved you over excitedly.

“We’ve devised a joint lesson that you should find very enlightening. Come, sit. You will like this.”

He pulled your chair out for you, a noble gesture that was mostly lost on you. He took his own seat beside you.

“Let me start with the local galactic supercluster.” Loki said.

“The what now?”

“Yggdrasil.”

“The what now?”

He gestured grandly at the center of the table, from which a billowing figure began to grow and branch. Bright lights blossomed in places, glittering sparks shimmered across limbs of darkness. A masterpiece of tiny details, almost incomprehensible outside of context. It was incredibly beautiful.

“Is this…is it space?” You hazarded a guess. You hadn’t gotten very far in your astronomy book, but he had called it a ‘galactic supercluster’ which sounded rather self-explanatory.

“Oh yes. This is Yggdrasil. The Tree of Worlds, the Guardian of Wisdom. Is it not glorious?”

Another gesture, and the image began to slowly rotate.

“It’s very beautiful.” The way he was looking at you was so expectant. Was he showing off? “This is full of galaxies then? All these lights?”

“The lights are individual stars. But the glow you see is the combined light of tens of thousands of galaxies. Asgard once held influence over great swathes of this area, and our name was known and respected all throughout.”

You stared. This one image represented an area bigger than you could possibly comprehend.

“How?” You asked. It didn’t seem like there were enough Asgardians to even leave a single representative in every galaxy therein. How could the influence of one species reach so far?

“Same way everyone else does.” Brunnhilde said. “We’re really good at stabbing things.”

“There were a number of factors.” Loki said dryly. “Our great lifespans, prior connections made with other races, expansive colonies, the high number of Aesir born to us, and of course, the Bifrost. Other races had those other things to some degree or another, but no one else had a Bifrost.”

“That’s the beam of light that brought me here, isn’t it?” You asked. “That’s the thing that brought Thor, uh, the king back and forth between Asgard and Earth, right?”

“The one that brought you here is but the palest reflection of what we once had.” Loki said. “But give it time, and we will rebuild it to be as great as it once was, perhaps even better. I’m not sure you will live that long though. Maybe, if we are lucky, I can show you another planet someday.”

It was a good thing you were sitting down. The very thought of being on another world was both terrifying and elating.

“W-where would you take me?” You asked. What worlds were out there?

“Probably here.” The image zoomed in and in, past galaxies, stars, and nebulae, to focus on a very green and cloudy planet with one large moon. “This is Vanaheim. It isn’t dissimilar to what your own planet used to be a few thousand years ago. Here is Midgard, for comparison.”

The familiar globe of the Earth popped up next to Vanaheim, and your eyes widened at the difference in size. You were vaguely aware the Earth was the largest terrestrial planet in your solar system, but you hadn’t realized how big that really meant. The little image loomed over Vanaheim, nearly twice as big, and with much larger oceans.

“The differences look great, but Vanaheim is very similar to Midgard in composition, atmosphere, and ecology. Look.” Again, the image zoomed in, blowing through thick clouds, dropping down among tall forests that looked like conifers, though you knew they could not be.

At ground level, there was a small clearing from which a village sprouted. People moved here and there, looking just like regular people that you might see every day.

“These are the Vanir.” Brunnhilde said, taking hold of the conversation again. “Let me start a bit earlier in our history. Asgard became a space-faring civilization very early on, and we expanded into the star system that would become ours quickly. We conquered Nornheim, the only terrestrial planet in the system.” She gestured to Loki, who brought up an image of a large, dry, stony world, nearly as large as Earth, but without any blue or green, nothing but rock.

“This was back in Buri’s day, mind, and the Bifrost had just been built. Invading the planet was a test of its power. Turned out there actually was a race of people who lived there. They were rocks, just like everything else on the planet, but they really, really didn’t like us being there. And just like that, we were at war. We took the planet, but the rock trolls wouldn’t surrender. So we experimented with the Bifrost once more, using it to remove the trolls from Nornheim, and sending them to the next planet we found. That turned out to be Vanaheim.”

“Good lord.” You said, appalled.  “Why do all that in the first place?”

“Why do humans go to war?” Brunnhilde asked. “Not the fake reasons. Not religious or ethnic reasons, but the real, underlying reasons your ancestors always went to war?”

You thought for a moment, stripping away all the excuses, ideological differences, racial fears, age-old prejudices. What made the first man pick up a stone and smash the guy next to him?

“Resources.” You said. “Either need or greed, it’s all about what you can take from them.”

“You got it!” Brunnhilde said. “Buri was trying to build the foundations of Asgard and he needed as many mineral resources as he could get. And there was a whole planet of rocks, guarded only by rocks. So he took it.”

“Why not settle there?”

“Because it was just rocks! There was no water there, except in trace amounts in the atmosphere, and inside the rocks. No plants, no life other than the rock trolls. And Buri was obsessed with building an eternal realm for his people, from scratch. Before that, the pre-Asgardian people lived on fleets of ships, but most information from before they arrived in the Nornheim system and took over has been lost. No one knows where our ancestors first came from, and after Asgard was built, it was no longer considered important.

We mined Nornheim from then until very recently, and there was still plenty more left. It’s lost to us now. Perhaps new life will arise there again, who knows?

In any case, after the base of Asgard was built, we began looking outward again. The Bifrost allowed us to discover more worlds, and to rediscover Vanaheim. By that time, we’d actually forgotten about the whole banishing an entire species to a completely different realm thing, but the Vanir sure hadn’t!”

Nornheim disappeared, Earth disappeared, the wall of illusions focused back on Vanaheim and the Vanir.

“When we arrived, we hoped to take trees and topsoil back with us. But it turns out the Vanir had heard of us, from the mouths of a new enemy who had appeared suddenly to make war on them generations ago. And just like that, we were at war again.

The Vanir have always preferred to put down roots and stay where they are. We could have just left, and they would not have followed. But this was the reign of Borr, and Borr liked to conquer.”

You shuddered. It was a little disappointing to discover that the magical space gods ancestors had been just as bad as yours, and on a much larger scale.

“We lost.” Brunnhilde said.

“We didn’t win.” Loki corrected. “There’s a difference.”

The Valkyrie shrugged. “To Borr, a draw was as bad as a loss, because it was not a win.”

“Yes, he was rather rigid and uncomplicated like that.” Loki grumbled, as if embarrassed.

“This was your ancestor?” You asked.

“This was my grandfather.” He admitted.

“That recent?”

“It would not seem recent to you. And I never met the man. He died in war, long before any of us were born. A fitting end, I suppose.”

“It’s how he would have wanted to go, if he had ever expected to die.” Brunnhilde resumed. “The war ran long and fierce; neither the Vanir or Asgardians were very numerous at the time, but both were ferocious combatants. The Vanir are blessed with many of the strengths that our people once thought belonged only to them; long life, great strength, resilience, and so forth. And, to our great surprise, they had Aesir among them.”

“Those are gods, right?” The book had given that name to the gods, but hadn’t mentioned them belonging to different species.

“You would call them that, yeah. This was the first time we encountered them outside our own people, and it really threw us. Neither side could prove superior, so we had to try for peace instead.”

“Something Borr never tried again.” Loki interjected.

“Vanir custom demanded a trade of political hostages to ensure peace. From us, they gained Vili and Ve, Borr’s youngest sons. From them, we gained Njord and his children, Freya and Freyr.”

“So, they’re Vanir? Well no wonder they are on Vanaheim!”

“They come and go at their whims, now that we are allies” Loki said. “It’s better that they were there. Freya has a terrible temper, and while I would have personally loved to watch her punch Thanos in the face, I would not have liked to see her killed. I’ve never had anything against the twins.”

With a gesture, the trees and village swirled and coalesced into three incredibly beautiful individuals. A man who appeared to be closing in on middle age, decorated with seashells, his black hair attractively wind-blown. A gorgeous, voluptuous woman with a sword in her graceful hand, and a conspicuous golden necklace at her slender, tan throat. An extremely inviting young man with sparkling black eyes and a gentle smile, flowers in his tidy hair.

You reached out for him, without even realizing you were doing it. Your fingers passed right through, and Loki caught them on the other side, as the image dissipated around your hand.

“It’s just an illusion.” He said. “He’s not really here. A creature of base urges, are we?” He seemed annoyed.

Loki is skilled in the artifice of illusion, and he uses this to embellish his lies. So the book had said.

“Well, you made the illusion!” You said defensively.

“Oh, were you reaching for me?”

“No! I was just…” What had you been doing? You had just needed to try to touch the image of Freyr for some reason.

“Can it, your highness.” Brunnhilde interrupted, receiving a furious glare in return. “You know she couldn’t help it.”

“Is a simple image really so potent?”

“You’re Aesir, he doesn’t affect you in the same way. She’s mortal, and came from a land of grain. She was a baker, for the Norn’s sake! Of course even an image would affect her!”

“Why, please?” You asked above their rising voices. “I didn’t actually mean to do that. What happened?”

“Freyr is a fertility god.” Loki said dismissively. Oh yes, he was definitely annoyed. “He governs the cycle of crops, prosperity of all kinds, fruitfulness, and so on, and so forth. He and his retinue are associated with the baking of bread and animal slaughter; both as symbols of plenty, and as sacred offerings. You lived and worked in his domain, whether you knew it or not.”

His tone clearly indicated that he considered you weak for acting as you had, but his words sparked a pulse of pride. You had been doing, if not THE Lord’s work, then A Lord’s work.

“Oh, don’t look so smug. Fertility and prosperity gods are ridiculously common. They make up a huge percentage of Aesir across the universe. Coming under the influence of one or more is practically inevitable for mortal species.”

“You know, you asked me if I was ashamed of the work I did, or of ‘what I am’ was how you put it. And I’m not. My society really feels the need to consider poor people as less than dirt, and they take all the value away from low-paying jobs, but the thing is, those jobs are actually really important. All those jobs they say are for losers and failures are jobs that provide services that they desperately want. That they need even. Without those jobs and those workers, civilization would fall apart. What are you going to do without grocery stores? Or gas stations? Or sanitation workers? Or bakers?

The bad treatment did get to me. It gets to all of us who are in that situation, because we can see how wrong it is. But now I find out there’s a god somewhere in the universe who thinks bread is good and worth something, and surrounds himself with people like me. Why shouldn’t I be proud of that?”

“Oh, he’d like you.” Brunnhilde said.

Loki released your hand and crossed his arms. The illusion dropped away entirely.

“Anyway,” Brunnhilde continued as if nothing had happened. “We considered it safe to retreat back to Asgard at that point, and couldn’t do much invading for a while after that. But we did continue locating other planets across Yggdrasil. Some were empty, and we sent small groups to colonize them. Others were inhabited, but friendly. Borr conquered these through treaties and trade. But eventually, our army built back up. And then we located Svartalfheim. But before we go into that, would you like to take a break, to think about what you’ve already learned? It must be getting close to lunch time.”

“Yeah, actually.” You said, grateful for a small reprieve. Time to reflect on the information and ask questions without derailing the whole lesson would be welcome. So would the food. You wondered if you would ever stop feeling so hungry.

The three of you left the table as it was; according to Loki, no one would bother it for the rest of the day. You found yourself back in the side room off the banquet hall, enthusiastically tucking into a tasty lunch. At least the food was better than your budget usually allowed.

“So can you tell me more about the Aesir?” You asked.

Thor entered the room with a plate full of food.

“Specifically, why are there so many fertility gods?”

Thor immediately turned around and left.

“Coward!” Brunnhilde called after him. Loki snickered.

“Okay, what was that all about?” You asked. It was weird watching the mighty Thor retreat from a conversation.

“Oh, he’s just shy.” Brunnhilde said. “You know he’s a sky god, right? Lightning and thunder, storms?”

You nodded.

“And guess what else?”

“What, really? But I’m not drawn to touch him.”

“Eh, well, it’s kind of secondary to the thunder thing. He’s associated with the rains, but not the harvest. Freyr’s there from the beginning, to the end.”

“Gotta get me a man like that.” You mused.

Loki set his fork down just a bit harder than necessary.

“He’s married!” He exclaimed.

“Oh?” You asked, surprised that he seemed so scandalized. “To whom?”

Loki looked away from you, lips pressed into a thin line. Brunnhilde chuckled.

“A giant.” She answered.

“There’s giants?” You asked. Another kind of alien? How big could they get?

“That’s an entirely different lesson. You wanted to know about Aesir?”

You dug into a little cobbler of a blueberry-like fruit. They had called it bilberry. You called it delicious.

“Yes. So, are they just born at random, or what?”

“They can arise from any line, at any time.” Loki said. “We have recorded them in at least six of the ni-eight realms. But they do occur more commonly when there is at least one Aesir parent.”

“How do you know if you are one? You come out of the womb shooting lighting? Or does it at least wait until puberty?”

“Eh, it depends.” Brunnhilde said. “I assume they figured Heimdall out as soon as he opened his eyes. For others it’s a bit more subtle. But it gets figured out in the end.”

“But what causes it to happen in the first place?” You wondered. “This has presumably been going on for what, millions of years? When did it start? And why, and what keeps it going?”

“I’m sure every culture throughout time and space has their own mythos about it.” Loki said.  “My personal theory is that it involves the infinity stones. Which just means that I’ll never get to test it.” He grumbled.

Brunnhilde stared at him.

“Do they have an affinity for magic?” You asked. “The king said they made up everything in the universe.”

“They could be considered magical. Certainly they come from a source beyond anyone’s total understanding. There are stones that correspond to concepts so nebulous as Power, and Reality. I don’t suppose it would be too far-fetched to think they could have influenced the creation of beings such as us.”

“Excuse me!” Brunnhilde interrupted, earning a disgruntled look from Loki, who seemed to have been really getting into his theory. “Why does she know about that?”

“I honestly have no idea.” You said. “I remember what happened, but nobody knows why.”

“Is it because you have magical potential?” She asked. “His majesty said you were learning sorcery.”

“I…don’t know? Is it?” You asked Loki, but he was already hurrying out the door to yell at his brother.

“I think I know how to tell which humans can learn sorcery! Thor! She said there was a whole forum of them!”

“Thank you, Brunnhilde! You’re so brilliant!” She called out after him. “Oh, thank you, I’m aware! But it’s nice to hear anyway!” She laughed, shaking her head. “Well, there goes my co-instructor. Come on, you want to go learn about Svartalfheim anyway?”

[nerdylittleshit]

Thoughts about Spn 13x20

SPOILERS! SPOILERS! SPOILERS!

It is that time of the year where, as they say, the plot begins to thicken. Only three episodes left we are heading to the grand finale, so almost everything that happened in this week’s episode can be seen as a foretelling of what we can expect. Which unfortunately is neither rainbows or kittens, but when did this show ever? That being said it was a neat episode and for the first time since his comeback I had fun watching Gabriel. I liked what we learned about his past and how they moved his character forward. A quick update on all the feels, apocalypse world version. But in the end the most interesting part to me was what this episode told us about Sam and Dean’s current state and what it might mean for their future.

But as always, let’s have a closer look.

Wings & Things

Starting at the apocalypse world, where we learn that since the last time we saw them Jack made good on his promise and started to fight the angels. We already know that he is more powerful than an average angel, so it’s not surprising that so far he has been successful. Back in 13x02 we learned that Nephilim can become more powerful than their angelic parents, which in Jack’s case would be an archangel. So technically he could be powerful enough to beat Michael, but storywise it would be too easy. Besides as Mary reminded us Jack is currently almost too confident in his powers, a little reminder of season 12 where hubris was the downfall of the BMoL. Mary as well has learned her lesson the hard way and warns Jack that his recklessness is what will lead him to make mistakes.

Their whole relationship was portrayed as that of a mother and a son, and Mary later textually confirmed that by calling Jack “her boy” (while also reminding us that she saw Cas as her boy as well and still thinks he is dead). I really liked seeing them that way, because I think they give each other what they need. Jack is acting much more than a child than Sam and Dean. Because technically he still is, even if he doesn’t look like it. He needs guidance, he needs support and someone that loves him and cares about him. Kelly had been the empty space in his life, that neither Sam and Dean or Cas could fill. He looked up to them as role models, but Mary fills in a different role, that of a mother.

Mary on the other hand sees the other world as a place where she can redeem herself. The first step was to realize that not making the deal had horrible consequences in this world, that she was a victim as well, and that there was never really a right and a wrong choice. Now, just as Jack, she sees her purpose in trying to save this world. She knows that Jack needs her, as the mother he never had, while at the same he replaces the children she lost when she died. Mary’s relationship with her sons became so estranged because she felt unable to act like a mother to them. They no longer needed a mother, at least not in the way they remembered her. Mary had been taken away the chance to see her sons grow up and to raise them. But with Jack she has been given another chance.

The other interesting thing about this storyline was the return of Kevin. I already talked in my episode review on 13x18 about the different characters we met so far in the other world, and how much they changed or stayed the same without knowing the Winchesters. Both Bobby and Charlie are pretty much the same. Bobby is still a hunter because he always has been one. Charlie still fights the good fight, because she already did that (though in a different way) before the apocalypse happened. Kevin though is a different story. He is still the same kid who just wanted to go to school and was not ready for the supernatural to be a part of his life. But in our universe the Winchester take him in and that makes all the difference. Their relationship had never been easy, but in the end they became a family. They gave Kevin something to fight for, even though he had still lost his friends and (seemingly) his mother. In the apocalypse world Kevin became what he was meant to be in our world as well, an instrument of the angels. I don’t think that any of his actions in the other world were out of character. This is how Kevin would have reacted, all hope lost. And even then he decided not to wait for Bobby and the other survivors, to lessen the body count.

This draws a pretty good picture of the Michael we will be facing very soon. He doesn’t simply kill, he does it in the most sadistic way, with the only attempt to break Jack. Jack on the other hand proves to be a real Winchesters when he wonders what his purpose is if he can’t save everyone. Which is pretty close to Dean’s current state of mind.

Some other things:

- Mary mentions that with all the new people coming to their camp they will soon run out of supplies. This could lead to conflicts within the camp, but it also tells us that by beating Michael and the angels the job isn’t done. They have to rebuild their entire world.

- Mary tells Kevin that heaven is just full of memories, that none of it is real. This is a pretty stark contrast to the suicidal Mary we saw last season, who longed for her own heaven. It is also possible that the dream state we saw in 12x22 was her own heaven and that by letting go of it she left behind her desire to go there again as well.

- It is implied that Michael in the other world decides who goes to heaven and who doesn’t. Given that most angels in the other world fight down on earth it is possible only the bare minimum of angels and new souls stay in heaven, to keep everything running.

- There is probably a lot to say about the image of Jack’s wings protecting Mary and her unconscious body in his arms, which were all pretty biblical, so I let some other people talk about it.

Gods & Odds

As I said I liked Gabriel in this episode better than I did in 13x18. His scenes felt more lighthearted and closer to the character we saw in season 5, while at the same time the Winchesters had a chance to call him out on his past actions and to give the character another chance to change.

Gabriel, who has seen “Kill Bill” one too many times, is on a quest for revenge. After Asmodeus he tries to track down the norse Gods who once sold him to the evil colonel. Others have already pointed out that everyone seems to face their abusers this season. Cas had to face Naomi and Sam and Rowena have yet to face Lucifer (which given the promo will happen next episode). The question is how one deals with the trauma and the abuse they had to suffer through. Are you ever able to truly let go? Can you only rest if the one responsible for your pain got his/her punishment? In 13x12 Sam told Rowena that no matter how powerful she will be she won’t feel any less vulnerable and helpless facing Lucifer. And yet by the end of the episode he gave her the tools to her full power back, hoping she might be able to kill Lucifer.

Sam and Dean learned the hard way that revenge won’t make you feel better. There is no satisfaction in it, there is no healing of old wounds. And yet Sam bonds with Rowena, bonds with Gabriel, because they both have become victims the same way he did. He understands their need to do something, anything, to get some sort of control back. I do hope Sam and Rowena can end Lucifer, because I am beyond tired of his storyline, but chances are he lives at least long enough to meet his son. The real answer how to face their trauma however has already been given last week by Billie/Death: “Sometimes life is unfair and sometimes we lose things and sometimes we make mistakes. And some of these things can never be fixed no matter how powerful you become. Some things just are, and everyone has to live with that”. Let’s hope both Sam and Rowena have listened.

The reveal that Gabriel impersonated the real Loki did mostly fit with the theme of things looking like other things, or in this case two things who looked the same. And apparently demi-gods are powerful enough that they can transform vessel into their own doppelgängers? The more you know. Apart from that the real Loki had two narrative purposes. For one he told Dean that despite the fact that his father Odin despised him he still wants to revenge his father’s death, making it clear that Dean of all people would understand. There has been a big negative space all season long with mentions of fathers and more precise John, the same way season 11 had been build around Mary and her absence and we all know how that ended. I’m not sure how and in which way they could build in John, though I’m not a huge fan of the character and I rather they wouldn’t at all.

The other thing is what Loki told Gabriel: that he lived for pleasure and stood for nothing. It is the same thing that Sam and Dean accused him off, that when they needed him he ran away. Gabriel got his revenge, but it didn’t make him feel better, the way Dean knew it wouldn’t. But after he starts to wonder if there was some truth in Loki’s words, if it is finally time to give his life a meaningful purpose. This is what it looked like back in season 5, where Gabriel had seemingly sacrificed himself in order to stop the apocalypse. It is why I wasn’t very fond of bringing his character back, because it took away the meaning of this death, that had never been real in the first place. Gabriel is now on a journey we thought he had already been. It is a weird repeat of a story that had seem already finished, so I’m still a bit conflicted as to why they had to bring the character back in the first place.  

Let’s talk for a brief moment about the other scene I know everybody is already talking about. Gabriel talking about his time in Monte Carlo and of course the porn stars. We see two versions of this story, one with the porn starts, one without. It is possible Gabriel simply forget to mention them the first time and what we see then is how it happened. The other interpretation however is that the version without them is how Sam pictured the scene and the other version with the porn starts is how Dean imagined it (which would be a callback to 2x15, the first time we saw Gabriel, where we had the story told from two different perspectives as well). Say the porn star version is Dean’s imagination, then it features a male porn star. With dark hair, in an ascot. Flirting not with the flamboyant brother but rather with the manly bearded dude. I’m sorry but there is no heterosexual interpretation for this.

The for me most important scene however was the last scene. Sam calls out Dean for going alone after Loki, after he already left Sam behind to go with Ketch into the other world. Dean falls back to treating Sam like a child instead of his equal. With Lucifer free and a Michael from another world ready to conquer our world it seems like a second apocalypse is on the horizon. This brings back Dean’s worst memory: Sam’s death and his time in hell. Back then Dean could do nothing to prevent this as it was the only option to save the world. But he can’t get through it again so Dean is willing to rather give his own life than to let anyone he cares about die again.

In 12x23 Dean lost everything and there was nothing he could about it as well. Instead of waiting for another tragedy to happen it seems Dean now takes matters into his own hands. Just like Jack he feels like a failure if he can’t protect everyone.

The whole scene felt to me as if the show is starting to prepare us what will happen in the finale, which given all spoilers is very likely to be Michael!Dean. Dean acts reckless, he even says he doesn’t care about his own life, as long as his family is safe. He falls back into old destructive patterns, but so does Sam. His promise to die together is the same inability to let go of his brother that Dean shows. Dean can’t lose Sam so he rather dies instead to protect him; Sam can’t lose Dean so he rather dies with him. In the end though we will likely see a reverse “Swan Song”, with the brothers separated, and while not dead one of them will no longer be himself.

Until then though let’s hope next week gives us the ultimate power couple: Gabriel & Rowena! See you then.

[imagine-loki]

Abandoned

Title- Abandoned

Chapter/One-shot- Part 9

Author- starrynight35/starrynightfantasies

Original Imagine Imagine Loki witness a person abandoning a pet, he pays little heed at first, humans, of course, are fickle creatures, but on hearing the human use words like “runt” and “worthless” something in him stirs. Looking into the box human has dumped the animal in, he realises it is a small black furball.

Rating- G

Notes/Warnings- F- bombs, the usual :) 

Notes/Warnings: Language, A few F-bombs

You can read it on AO3 here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12152160/chapters/29338554

“Exactly how long have you known about this, Thor?” Tony whispered. 

Tony began looking over his shoulder to make sure Loki wasn’t sneaking up behind him. He certainly didn’t want to be overheard. Tony couldn’t believe Thor had kept such important information from Loki, especially knowing how sensitive Loki was about his missing children. 

Thor shrugged. “Father told me after I returned from Midgard the first time- when I was banished here. You remember, when Loki sent the Destroyer-”

“Yeah, I remember. But that was five years ago. Couldn’t you have told your brother his child was safe? I mean, I know we weren’t exactly happy with him, but he deserved to know,” Tony replied. 

He was becoming more irritated with Thor by the second, and he knew he should just stop talking. It was done now, and they would all have to face the consequences. Loki was going to be beyond pissed off, and Stark couldn’t blame him at all. 

“Why are you looking for Jörmungandr? Has he done something I should know about? Father should be the one to handle that,” Thor said. 

Tony scrubbed his hands over his face in frustration. At this rate, he wouldn’t have any eyebrows left. 

“I’m searching for him because I wanted to help Loki out. He mentioned that he didn’t know where his children were, and that is something no father should ever have to go through. And now I find out that you knew where they were!”

Thor looked like he had been slapped, but Tony was beyond caring. He didn’t know if Thor was just so callous and self-centered that he never even thought of Loki, or if he was keeping the information from his brother to use as leverage. Judging by the expression on his face, Tony would bet on the former. 

“Oh, I only know where Jor is. And Sleipnir. But Loki knows where he is. I have no idea where Fenrir is. But he is the only one. We all know where Odin sent Hel, and Narfi and Váli…well-” Thor trailed off. 

Tony’s mouth hung open for a moment while he mentally counted the children Thor had just listed. 

“Wait. Loki has six children? Are they all…like Jörmungandr?”

He didn’t want to say strange because it just didn’t feel right.

“Yes, well, he had six children. Narfi and Váli are dead. And they looked just like Loki; black hair, green eyes, pale skin.”

Thor went on to explain that Odin had charged Narfi and Váli with treason for making a few childish political statements. They might have been okay if they hadn’t had their father’s charisma. Evidently, people listened to Narfi and Váli, and Odin felt very threatened by them, so he had them executed. Tony was so horrified by what Thor told him that he couldn’t listen to the entire story. He retired to his room for a drink to think things through. 

Thor mentioned that Loki had ‘shamed’ several of the members of the court by drunkenly airing their secrets at a public function. Apparently, this act had him losing favor with Odin- favor he’d never had in the first place. He was supposed to be Odin’s son, but by then, Loki knew the truth. He was hurt, confused, and very angry, so he chose to lash out at one of Odin’s soirees.

Tony had the worst feeling that was why Narfi and Váli lost their lives. He already knew Odin could be cruel and unyielding. Though Thor was in line to be king of Asgard, he did not understand the intricacies of politics, nor the temperaments of those in power.  

Tony’s head was in his hands when Steve knocked on his bedroom door. 

  Bucky had finally worked up the courage to knock on Loki’s door. He didn’t want to barge in this time, just in case he really pissed Loki off. 

“Loki? Can I come in?”

He expected the usual 'Fuck off,’ but what he received was much more concerning. 

“Whatever. Just leave the light off.”

Bucky walked as gently as he could; trying not to make any noise. Do gods get headaches? He didn’t know what was wrong with Loki, but he hadn’t expected this. 

“Dude, what’s going on? Are you sick?" 

All Bucky could see was a large lump under the blankets on Loki’s bed, and he assumed Loki was under there- most likely with Fennie. 

"Gods don’t get sick, Bucky." 

His voice was weak and soft, and Bucky wondered if he was lying.

"Come on, man. You’re starting to worry me. This thing with Tony- it’s not that bad. I even heard him say he didn’t blame you for the way you reacted. He’s not mad." 

Suddenly, the blankets were flung back, and Loki sat up looking angrier than ever. Bucky took two steps backward without even realizing what he was doing. 

"I know he’s not mad! I’m mad! I’m mad at myself. For allowing Odin to take my children from me! For pissing him off and getting two of them executed because of my stupidity! It's all my fault!”

Loki took a deep shuddering breath before continuing. 

“It’s all my fault that Fenrir is somewhere in another realm; tied up with chains that he cannot free himself from. It’s all my fault that Jörmungandr was flung to the far reaches of the Nine realms; never to be seen again! And it is all my fault that my dear sweet daughter is now the ruler of Hel! I was never a father. I was nothing but a bad omen for them. Being born to me was the worst thing that could have ever happened to them.”

Bucky stood frozen in his place as Loki’s angry screams quickly dissolved into tortured sobs. Loki curled in on himself, wrapping his arms tightly around his knees and covering his face. Bucky could see that Loki was ashamed to be seen in such a vulnerable state, but there was no reason to be. If there was anyone in the tower who understood this kind of breakdown, it was Bucky. 

He slowly made his way toward Loki; desperately trying not to draw attention to himself. Loki needed comfort, whether he wanted to believe that or not, and Bucky intended to try to provide it. 

Loki was grateful for Bucky’s stoic presence, even if he was ashamed of himself. He was also grateful that the soldier wasn’t easily startled. In his anger, he had caused several things to fly off the shelves, crashing to the floor, but Bucky hadn’t even flinched. Now he was so exhausted he could hardly move, so he didn’t say a word when Bucky sat down next to him. He didn’t even grumble when the soldier wrapped an arm around his shoulders. 

Fennie was purring, and Bucky stroked her fur but didn’t say a word. It seemed he knew that nothing he said would help. Maybe Loki had more in common with Bucky than he’d originally thought. 

  “What are we going to do?” Steve asked softly as he entered Tony’s room. 

He’d found Tony sitting at his desk drinking Scotch straight from the bottle. Thor’s admission had been overwhelming, and both men needed time to digest the information before speaking of it. 

If he were honest, Steve would say that he didn’t really want to deal with any of this. It was difficult enough working through the maze of emotions Bucky wove for him. Now he had to face the fact that Loki, the guy he thought was just another asshole villain, was actually a very complicated fellow. A man in an extraordinary amount of pain. He’d been lied to his entire life, then punished for being angry about it. Odin had actually executed his sons to punish him. Steve couldn’t even fathom that level of cruelty. It hurt his heart and his head to try, so he simply stood there waiting to see what their next move would be. 

“We’re going to take a trip to the Scottish Highlands,” Tony replied. “That’s what we’re going to do." 

[wunderlass]

Smoke & Mirrors Chapter 32 - Rooftops

His captors think him defeated, but even Odin doesn’t know the secrets Loki holds. Before long, he’ll be free, events set in motion by Frigga’s best intentions and Loki’s worst instincts. He’s seen his future, and nothing is going to stop him from stealing it. Loki/Darcy, M rated

You can also read on AO3 or FFNet.

When I posted the previous chapter, I suggested we were almost done. One more chapter to wrap things up, I thought, and then we'd reached the finish line.

But.

As I was writing that chapter, I found myself summarising events instead of showing them. This lessened their emotional impact and the effect they had on the characters.

That means there are still a handful of chapters to go. And that being said - have at it.

The moment stretched on, like the world had been put into slow motion. Wind whipped around them, the din of battle fading away as between one breath and the next reality changed forever.

Frigga was the first to move. She relaxed her grip on her husband, gently lowering him to the ground so she could smooth the hair away from his face, and place a gentle kiss on his forehead. Her face was white with shock, her eyes glassy and her hands shaking. It hurt even to look at her, her fresh pain like an exposed wound.

She did not weep, though beside her Thor was crying openly, his shoulders heaving. He discarded Mjolnir onto the concrete to grip his father’s body, but in doing so his hands came away covered in blood.

Loki hadn’t moved at all, crumpling in on himself like a lost child. He didn’t look away from Odin, not even to blink. But he did not cry, and he did not speak. Darcy rested her hand on his shoulder, unsure of what else to do. He didn’t react even to that.

An explosion sounded somewhere, far below, breaking the spell—or at least fracturing it.

“Uh…”

Darcy looked up to find Tony still hovering near the top of the tower, where only moments before Thanos had disappeared with the girl. He’d raised his face plate, as if it would be disrespectful to be in the presence of the fallen king of Asgard with his face covered.

“I have to go. Do the thing,” he said uncertainly, gesturing in the direction of the commotion and aiming his words more at Darcy and Jane than anyone else. He held out the Tesseract in its shielded container, and Jane took it from him tentatively, like a sleeping baby—or a bomb about to go off.

Frigga raised her head, dignified even in her fresh grief. “Of course. There is still a battle to be won.”

“Right.” He nodded, beginning to lower his face plate and drift downwards.

“Find Sleipnir,” Loki said suddenly.

That had Tony at a loss. He shot a questioning look at the girls, but Darcy could only shake her head in shared confusion.

“My father’s steed. He must still be out there—whether injured or…” He paused and swallowed. “Find him so we can return him to Asgard with my father.”

“Roger that.” Tony winced at his own crassness, then slammed down the face plate and sped away.

“Loki,” Frigga said softly. “Come here.”

He shook his head and planted his feet.

“You should say goodbye to your father before…before there are too many eyes watching. While we still have a moment of peace, and the pomp has not yet begun.”

“I can’t,” Loki croaked, as if choking on the words.

“You can. You must.”

He shook his head desperately. “This is all my fault!”

“Does even this moment have to about you?” Thor said, not with cruelty. He sounded tired. Nevertheless, it had an effect on Loki, who straightened his back and nodded. It didn’t seem to be in response to Thor’s question, but as if he was resolving something within himself. He must have managed it, because he took a step forward, and then another, his long legs easily taking him to Odin’s side.

Together the family cried, and held each other, and grieved.

Darcy shuffled away from them, towards Jane, and they shared a glance which agreed they were intruding on a private moment. On the other hand, they couldn’t leave, not when someone had to remain in charge of the portal machine. Jane shrugged, and they silently perched themselves out of sight until the first spell of mourning had passed.

“We cannot stay here,” murmured Frigga when she was ready, brushing the hair away from Loki’s face in a reflexive maternal gesture. “Our warriors must not find out before the battle is won. Their morale is too important.”

That roused the princes, in a way that surprised Darcy. The line of duty seemed to help them rein in their emotions—even Thor, who had always been quick with his. Perhaps he had grown up more than she’d even realized.

“I must return to the battle,” he said, as Frigga brushed her thumb over the tear tracks on his face. “They will have noticed Father’s absence—I must prevent rumors from spreading.”

“Don’t lie to them,” Frigga advised. “They will learn the truth later, and their trust in you must not be undermined so soon.”

“I know. There is more to focus their attention on—a city to save.”

With a whirl of Mjolnir, he was gone, only to be replaced on the helipad by the more petite figure of Natasha. She looked in worse shape than before, with a bloody gash on her head and a tear down the fabric over her left thigh.

“Tony sent me,” she said. “Said I’d be more use up here now they’re trying to wipe out the remaining Chitauri.” She didn’t look at Odin, keeping eye contact with Frigga.

“We need someone to watch the portal while we seek privacy.”

“Sure, I can do that.”

“Should we go down to the war council?” Darcy asked quietly, calling the elevator.

“No,” replied Frigga. “I do not trust them to hold their tongues on this.”

“Tony’s apartment will be private,” Jane suggested, and Frigga nodded in agreement.

Loki took off the furs he’d been wearing since Jotunheim and wrapped them around Odin, then hoisted him into his arms. He did not look down at his father, gaze fixed ahead as he entered the elevator with Frigga.

“We’ll follow you down,” Darcy said. She had a feeling it would be claustrophobic in there, between the body and the cloud of grief.

The doors slid shut, leaving an emptier helipad behind. There was a lot of blood where Odin had lain, and Darcy idly wondered if someone would have to clean that up. Or would it be left to the elements, the first rain washing away signs that a god—a man who was old enough to become a myth—had died there?

“How was Asgard?” Natasha asked, drawing Darcy away from her thoughts.

“I didn’t see much of it, really,” she replied.

Nat, too, was staring at the bloodstains. “Oh. Shame. But Thanos is dead, right?”

“Yeah. I think so. Truth be told, it was a bit weird, but I don’t think he’s coming back.”

“Who even was she?” Jane asked, looking at Darcy as if she’d have the answer. And it was a reasonable question, the girl had seemed to know Darcy.

“I have no idea.”

“Who?” Nat perked a curious brow.

“It’s a long story,” replied Darcy. “We should go, get that rock inside somewhere safe.”

When they entered Tony’s apartment, Pepper was returning to the living room from down the hallway.

“He’s in a guest room,” she explained, her voice soft. “And so are they.” Her eyes widened at Jane holding the Tesseract, and she switched to business mode, ushering them to one of Tony’s maximum-security safes so it could be locked away.

“What happened?” she asked when it was inside a foot of solid adamantium. She gestured in the direction of the guest room, so they understood what she was referring to.

“I don’t know,” said Jane. “One of the Chitauri brought him up to the tower barely alive. And then…” She shrugged heavily.

Pepper led them into the kitchen for the most privacy. “FRIDAY, did you witness what happened to Odin?”

The AI responded, quieter than usual, as if it understood the importance of not being overheard by the grieving guests. “There was a grenade attack. It appears Odin chose to take the blast rather than risk it injuring other soldiers.”

“Maybe he thought he could survive it,” Jane murmured, and Darcy murmured in agreement. “I guess I expected him to be bomb proof. He’s been around for so long, hasn’t he?”

“What about the horse?” Pepper asked, again directing her question at the AI.

“The Asgardian warrior Fandral retrieved him after the explosion: Sleipnir was spooked but uninjured. He is currently being stabled in the parking garage.”

“And Thor?” Jane asked, obviously worried about more grenades.

“Is liaising with Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers. Ground troops have been notified that Thanos is dead and the Tesseract is secure. They have the Chitauri corralled into four main areas and are planning for the best way to dispatch them.”

Curiosity satisfied—for now—Pepper busied making tea for them all.

“A lot happened while we were gone, huh?” Darcy asked Jane.

Her friend nodded, leading her over to the main screen of Tony’s interface again. “Once Tony was involved, he got JARVIS to work with FRIDAY and they were able to find a way into the Chitauri systems. JARVIS had been working on their language based on coding found in the weapons they left behind last time, so it actually seemed easy for him to communicate with the systems and override their orders. I don’t know what we’re going to do with Thanos’ ship, though.”

“Study it, knowing Tony,” said Pepper.

Darcy nodded. “We need to know what’s out there in the universe in case Thanos isn’t the only advanced civilization that decides it wants a piece of us.”

“But you got to see Asgard,” Jane said in hushed awe.

“I don’t know if you could say that. It was night time, and you know what my night vision is like. I saw more of Jotunheim when I was there.”

“But perhaps one day you will see more of our beautiful city,” said Frigga, appearing behind them. It was clear that, in private at least, she had wept; her eyes were now red and watery, her cheeks flushed and bloated. Even her voice cracked as she spoke. “And under better circumstances. You deserve to see Asgard as it truly is, not cloaked by darkness and fear.”

Darcy nodded while Pepper bustled finishing off the tea so she could present a cup to Frigga. “I’d like that.”

A commotion arose outside, and they rushed to the window to look down at the streets of Midtown. It was hard to tell, but it looked like the warriors—human and Asgardian alike—were cheering.

“I think we won,” said Pepper, sounding slightly surprised.

Darcy looked around, but couldn’t see Loki. Frigga followed her gaze, and managed a small smile.

“He is still with his father. However, you have questions which await answers. It would not do to put them off.”

“I don’t think—”

“Now is as good a time as any. Soon enough, Loki will be a prisoner again. She waits for you, and you should go to her.”

Pepper just looked confused by the exchange, while Jane seemed torn. She chewed on her lip. “It’s probably not a bad idea. You don’t know if SHIELD are going to try and lock you up again as well…”

“Alright,” Darcy agreed. “But I’m coming back, I’m not running. I’ve spent too much time running lately.”

She found her way to the guest room, which was dark enough that the people within it were reduced to mere shapes, shadows against a deeper darkness. Only Loki’s eyes identified him, glinting against the light that spilled through the door.

She averted her gaze from Odin, turning her body so she could not see him even in her peripheral vision. She hadn’t even properly met the man, and she felt like she was intruding on his death by being here.

“We should go,” she said quietly.

“The rooftop,” Loki agreed. He didn’t have to clarify which one—there could only be one rooftop which meant something to both of them.

“How are we going to get there?”

Loki considered it for a moment. “The tunnels.”

At some point, Loki had memorized all of the tunnels which ran underneath Manhattan—probably when they escaped into them during his coup. It meant that he had no problems navigating them through the darkness, using a few of those glowing, floating orbs to provide light. They crossed subway tracks, silent and still while the trains did not run, and while occasionally things skittered away into the shadows, they didn’t come across another living soul.

They did not speak. Darcy had nothing to say, nothing that didn’t seem absolutely trivial in light of everything that had happened, and Loki evidently felt the same way.

They resurfaced through a basement, and only when they crept upwards into the lobby did Darcy recognize the old hotel where she’d once been kept captive. It was as empty as everywhere else. Shattered glass crunched underfoot, the revolving doors crumpled and hanging at an angle which meant they were impossible to get through. Not that it mattered; they had privacy, and that was what mattered. Even the street outside sounded quiet.

The power was still out—though they were on the outskirts of Midtown, it was still the area where the fighting had been at its most intense. Darcy almost called uncle, knowing she’d never get up all the stairs to the top floor, but Loki summoned the elevator wordlessly, the little orbs disappearing into the workings to get it moving. At least that meant when they’d finished the long ride to the penthouse apartments, they only had one flight of stairs to get onto the rooftop.

Loki prized the locked door open and held it for Darcy with a flourish, as if he was trying to prove he still had manners despite everything.

It was here that Darcy hesitated. The rooftop didn’t exactly hold good memories for her, but she’d put it behind her, believing she’d never have to come back. Even on the journey, her mind had been tangled in questions she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer to—but now she was here, she wanted to bolt. It didn’t matter if she didn’t fear Loki anymore. Much. This place had been her prison, and every instinct balked at returning to it willingly. Especially with Loki by her side.

But. If she didn’t go up, those questions wouldn’t be answered.

So she forced herself to move, up the stairs, and into the garden where she’d once been so close to the sky, and isolated from everything else.

It was unrecognizable—so much that when she reached the top, she came to an abrupt halt, making Loki bump into her. Where this had once been a well-tended garden, small plants yet to grow to maturity in planters, now it was a jungle. In their months untended, rather than dying in the unfamiliar environment, the plants had flourished, outgrowing their pots and reaching skyward, so now it was hard to find a path through the concrete to the seats in the center.

And the screens were gone. Those impossible screens, the fence intended to keep Darcy inside and hidden from the city, had been removed. Beyond the foliage she could now see Manhattan again. The Chrysler building, and Stark Tower, and the Empire State building, and all the fires and ruins between.

Her breath left her, all the tension she’d been carrying exhaled in a gasp of relief, and she began moving forward again.

“I’m surprised you didn’t destroy it,” she murmured to Loki as he followed her.

“Why would I?” He sounded genuinely surprised. “For a time, it was the only place where we’d been together.”

It really was a struggle to get to the seats in the middle, where a small figure waited, clad in black. Darcy distantly realized, as she pushed ferns back from her face, that she needed to tell someone about this garden, before the Asgardian plants began to self-seed and become invasive species. Loki seemed less patient behind her, hacking away at fronds with his blade.

But then they were through, and face to face with the little girl. Her elfin face looked younger than it had on the top of Stark Tower, but maybe she just seemed smaller when they were this close. Her hair was braided and looped around her head, inky black against her chalk-white skin, and her eyes were unmistakably her father’s; shrewd, pale blue.

She lit up when they sat on the empty chairs. “I am happy that you came,” she said, beaming, her accent closer to Frigga’s lilting pronunciation of English than Loki’s crisp rendition.

“Yeah,” Darcy replied, uncertainly. “We have…questions.”

“Of course you do. You have never seen me before today. You do not remember me like I remember you.”

Darcy was pretty sure this conversation was going to end in a headache. “Remember you?”

The girl nodded, and now Darcy was sure she was younger than she had been on the Tower. Her mannerisms weren’t those of a teenager anymore, but of a pre-teen, one who hadn’t yet discarded her childhood completely.

“Who are you?” Loki asked, his last thread of patience evidently wearing thin.

“You know that,” the girl replied, chiding him a little. “I am your daughter, Hela. It has not even been a full day since Mother took from you what she needed, and created me.”

“I remember,” Loki said dryly.

“Is that why it took so long for her to send help?” Darcy asked. “Because she was making you?”

“Yes. It was harder than she expected, so I did not arrive until Thanos already had the stone. And Mother cannot come herself, she must stay in her own realm.”

“I suppose—” said Loki, “I suppose I wasn’t expecting to see you. You were supposed to be her child.”

“And I am. But I am half-alive, and that means I cannot spend all my time in the realm of the dead, can I? So while you are on this side of life, I will visit you often. And you, mama.”

She smiled hopefully at Darcy, who did her best to smile back. It was unnerving, all the implications that came with that word. Mama. She wasn’t ready to have children, and yet here was one nearly fully grown treating her like a member of the family.

She really should have brought some aspirin with her.

Instead, she said gently, “You’re older than we expected.”

Hela shrugged. “I exist outside of time, or so Mother says. I can go whenever I want. Sometimes I will be different ages—you will get used to it. I am the same girl, and I will always remember you.”

Darcy hesitated before asking the next question. “Do we raise you, then?”

“Yes.” That brought another smile. “Not yet, though. You aren’t ready, either of you. I will stay with Mother until you are, and then I will come back to you. Smaller, I think. So I can grow up properly.”

Darcy’s throat closed up, the enormity of it all hitting her. It really sounded like she was going to be a stepmother, and one to a child who was so far outside the bounds of normal that she didn’t know where to begin. Co-parenting with a demigod and Death itself?

No wonder her eyes were leaking.

“Oh, mama, don’t cry!” Hela said. “You will be a legend! Everyone knows your name.”

“I never wanted to be a legend,” Darcy protested, trying to stem the tide of tears. “I only ever wanted to be happy.”

“And you will be! I promise, I swear, oh mama please stop!”

Loki looked as lost as she felt, his hand hovering uncertainly near her arm as if he wanted to give her a sympathetic pat, but wasn’t sure if it was welcome, or even sufficient. Darcy took deep breaths to try and control herself while he considered his next question. “The mirror. The little boy—will he…”

“I cannot tell you everything, papa. Some things, you must just live through. Nana Frigga has made that very clear.”

The look he gave Darcy following her words—the hope, unmasked as it rarely was, shone from his face—said everything. Loki was still looking forward to that future, even if his motivations had changed. Darcy closed her eyes, wiping away the tears even if the enormity of it all still clawed at the inside of her chest.

“If you exist outside of time,” she began, “why that moment? Why not earlier?” So many deaths that could have been prevented…

Hela shook her head. “I could not be there if I did not exist yet, and when I did exist it was too late to change the past. That is the rule: I cannot change events from how they are meant to be.”

“Not even to prevent Odin’s death?” Loki asked quietly.

“No. And anyway, I needed a death,” she said matter-of-factly.

“You were in the middle of a battle!” His temper was fraying once more.

“No, it had to be a good death,” Hela insisted. “And grandpapa’s was the best death—he’d lived so long it was easy to take Thanos through with me. Grandpapa did not mind, when he knew.”

“What about the rest of us?”

Hela pursed her lips at the slight whine in Loki's voice. “It was his time, papa. He was never meant to survive the battle.”

Loki closed up, then, his eyes glazing over and he retreated into his grief. Hela appeared to sense this. “Nana is calling for you. There is much to be done still.”

“Yes, I suppose we should go back,” said Darcy. Not that she was looking forward to what awaited them at the Tower anymore than raising Hela.

“I will see you soon,” Hela replied, and her arms twitched, as if she wanted to hug them both and was holding back. “But I’m sure Mother is missing me already.”

When Darcy paused at the top of the stairs and looked back across the garden, the little girl was already gone.