Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The frigid air made him shiver.
Beyond the blanket of fog three figures were standing, and although he could not see them, he knew very well who they were.
Their evil sneers were the only thing clear in his eyes.
" You have done well to get this far, prince of the Æsir," said the central figure. It would have made anyone's blood run cold. She was hunched over herself and a thick black cape wrapped around her.
" I see...the prophecy being fulfilled. " to her right a tall, slender being was covering his eyes with his hands so that he could not see. The hands looked like those of a corpse.
" Say again: what is it that you want?"
The last figure, to the left of the central one, held between bony fingers a long strand of black cotton.
The prince smiled.
" What I have come here to do is very simple. " in the green eyes flashed a spark of what he was already anticipating thanks to his glorious purposes. " What I want is revenge. I want death and destruction. "
The Norns approached him and stood in a circle around him. Their sneers became, if possible, even more evil than before.
" Come with us then. "
Immediately Loki found himself on a rise from which he could see the whole kingdom of Asgard in its splendor. The high pinnacles of the palace were illuminated by the sun in all their glory.
Suddenly the sky clouded over and a rain of fire fell to the ground, destroying everything beneath it.
" This is what you will have. " said one of the three Norns.
Loki smiled wickedly as the great palace crumbled and collapsed in on itself. People screamed and despaired in a vain attempt to find escape from that destruction.
Loki laughed, an evil, mad laughter. He felt seiðr coursing powerfully through his veins, a power he had never felt before.
He delighted in watching Asgard burn.
Soon his new kingdom would rise from the ashes, where the Frost Giants would thrive. He was the rightful king of Jotunheim and now also of Asgard.
A woman in sumptuous royal robes flanked him.
" My lord, the kingdom is yours at last. "
" Ours. " Loki corrected her, basking in those words. " What we have fought so hard for is now about to be ours. Asgard has fallen at last and a new ruler awaits it. "
He offered her his hand. " My lady, will you stand by my side as my queen? "
The woman held out her small, delicate hand to him. " I will always be by your side, my king. "

Loki jerked awake, gasping.
It had been another damn nightmare. A nightmare he felt was terribly real. He could still hear the distant screams of people dying and the pungent smell of burning.
It took him a couple of seconds to realize where he was. He had never had such a sharp dream.
Sylvie was sitting next to him and looking at him worriedly.
" I tried to wake you up, but you wouldn't answer me. " she said seriously. Mussed blond hair framed a tense face.
Loki looked around and saw that everything was in disarray, as if a hurricane had passed. Sylvie preceded him by answering his question, as if she had read his mind.
" I felt everything shaking, that's why I woke up. There were objects in the air and others falling."
Loki only now noticed that he felt the seiðr flowing inside him, loud and clear, as if he had just used it.
Had he been the one who had made that mess?
He sighed and with a wave of his hand put everything back in order.
He then decided to get up. He couldn't stand being there anymore, the bedroom had suddenly become too oppressive, stifling.
" Where are you going?" asked Sylvie, looking at the muscles in the god's back. He was tense, she noted. Even from the little light there was she could tell how stiff he was. A light layer of sweat beaded his diaphanous skin.
" I need to get some air. " Loki replied dryly. He took a shirt and put it on. " Go back to sleep. I'm sorry I woke you up. " he softened the tone of his voice a little, realizing that in the end Sylvie had nothing to do with it. He didn't want to talk back to her, but that situation was getting heavy. Constantly waking up in the middle of the night in the grip of terrifying nightmares was bothering him quite a bit. Now, on top of that, he had used the seiðr involuntarily.
He closed the door behind him and took a big breath.
He did not like what was happening; he had a bad feeling about it.

The cool air of that midsummer night was a boon to his frayed nerves. They had chosen well where they were going to live after the whole mess with TVA. Mobius was not very convinced about letting two free variants go free for space time as if nothing had happened-two unpredictable variants he wanted to add. In his opinion they had to stay there, investigating the new concrete incoming threat. After all, they were two valuable, almost indispensable resources because of their powers. In the end, however, he had relented. He told them that they deserved some freedom after all. Loki swore that what convinced him to let them go was the dreadful look Sylvie gave him at the idea of having to stay locked in there for who knows how long. Sylvie had to be free because her being did not contemplate the idea of having to be locked in such an austere place.
She had always grown up free to make her own choices without hindrance. Surely, it would not be a detective with a grizzled mustache who would tell her what she could or could not do.
In the end, the choice fell on Midgard, the quietest-and most insulting-place in the Nine Realms. Loki had never particularly liked it as a place. The humans turned out to be too stupid and unnecessarily petulant and annoying. They arrogated the right to be superior to everything when they had no special skills or powers whatsoever. Moreover, they were deadly. A bore, in short.
Midgard, however, in its flaws was a place that if you did not particularly expose yourself you could live an actually pleasant life.
So the choice had fallen to the year 2010, to an unspecified place in North America. Before S.H.I.E.L.D., before the Avengers, before everything.
A branch snapped and he heard in the distance the howl of a wolf.
He had no clear destination. He liked to walk along a well-marked path that plunged into the woods. The sounds of nature always seemed to welcome him benevolently.
He went deeper and deeper into the woods.
The more he walked, the more he sensed something nostalgic, familiar in the air.
As the vegetation thickened, he felt a grip grip grip his stomach. That forest tasted like home.

" You must not venture into the forest alone. It is dangerous. " Frigga scolded him harshly as she disinfected his wounds. From the way she pressed on the cut above his eye, Loki could tell she was very angry.
" But I..." he tried to justify himself, but his mother's gaze made him immediately muffle.
" Silence! " she shouted.
Loki could not finish the sentence because Frigga's eyes stared at him sternly.
He saw anger and concern in her.
He had gone alone into the woods to prove that he was also brave like Thor and Sif. They never took him with them because they considered him too much of a hindrance, small and puny as he was.
So one day he decided it was time to show everyone that he had become strong.
but his courage did not last long when he tripped over a branch and hit his head on a rock. He stood for hours in the cold and dark as Odin was about to declare war on all the Nine Kingdoms for fear that someone had kidnapped him. The whole palace had moved to search for him until the chief of the guards brought him back to Odin's throne in his arms. The little baby was trembling and his fever was rising.
Before the father of the gods could say anything Frigga went ahead of him and ordered him to be taken to his chambers. The last thing Loki saw was his father holding his forehead with his hand in a clear sign of disappointment.

He walked for quite a while. He needed to think, to reflect.
He did not understand why he had been waking up with terrible nightmares for several nights. Each fragment of his most painful past emerged powerfully, reminding him of the difficult life he had had.
A life of jealousy and envy in the shadow of a perfect, invincible, beautiful brother loved by all.
Why was his mind bringing back the most painful memories that he was struggling to keep away? Why was it that just now when he had learned to keep centuries of hatred and evil at bay, his subconscious was bringing back all that had made him who he was? The god of Deception who enjoyed seeing others hurt.
But he was no longer what he had convinced himself he was.
Now he had a valid reason to prove to everyone that no, he did not enjoy seeing others suffer. But their suffering allowed him not to be ignored,to experience for a moment the attention he craved.
Now he was no longer seeking constant attention. He was no longer the frightened, weak child who desperately sought every bit of approval from his brother and father.
Now he no longer felt alone and unloved.
He now had someone by his side who had accepted him as he was.
Perhaps because after all, Sylvie was himself, and how could such a self-centered and ambitious god not love himself?
Hush.
He quickly shushed that thought.
If Sylvie had chosen to live a new timeline with him, it was because he had decided to write a new story in which they were the protagonists.
Them and only them.
As the first light of dawn began to drive away the darkness of the night, Loki decided it was time to go back.
Arriving at the house he went inside, trying not to make any noise. Sylvie was definitely still asleep.
The silence enveloped him in a grip that was pleasing to him. Since childhood he had preferred the quiet Asgardian night to the typical bustle in the streets of a town far too cheerful for his taste. While everyone slept he liked to slip silently through the cold corridors of the palace and take refuge in the one place where no one could judge or observe him: the library.
Even in that small cabin in the woods where they had decided to take refuge after arranging the Sacred Time Line, Loki had decided that one wall should contain his books.

" What do you do with all these dusty old books? " said Sylvie with her arms crossed as she watched him carefully arrange that one corner of the house so meticulously. She took one and turned it over several times. " Among other things, it is written in an incomprehensible language " she mumbled, leaning it badly on the haphazardly arranged stack of books.
" This incomprehensible language is ancient Asgardian. " Loki replied condescendingly, not taking his eyes off the bookcase. " Thor never learned it. Stupid as he was, it was bad enough if he could formulate a sentence without getting the verbs wrong. " He took the bulky book and examined it, opening the cover. " I can teach it to you if you want. "
Sylvie sighed. " I don't think I could ever need it. After all, in Asgard you and I can never go back "

He turned on the lamp next to the armchair and sat down. A pleasant breeze came in through the half-open window.
When he woke up in the middle of the night, the routine was always the same: get up quietly, go out and walk for an indefinite time. Then return home, walk to the bookcase and randomly choose one of the stored books.
This time he had in his hands a book that was unusually small by his standards. The black cover was surrounded by a gold frame.
The Poetic Edda.
Who knows why he had chosen this one. It had been ages since he had opened it.
He gently opened the cover and his eyes fell on a handwritten sentence in elegant and very neat handwriting, all too familiar.
"Happy healing, my little one."
He remembered well when he was given that book as a gift. He had always been in poor health as a child, so while Thor was learning to hold his first weapons and saddle horses,he was relegated to his rooms to do the only thing he was allowed to do: read. So his mother made sure he always had a few new books in his hands, each with a special dedication just for him.
He smiled bitterly.
"I'm still not cured." He thought. "Not completely."
As he read, his trained ear immediately noticed the light footsteps upstairs coming up to the stairs leading downstairs. They were gentle, as if they did not want to make their presence felt. They stopped at the top of the stairs and did not move.
" You can come down if you want. " he told her without looking up from his book.
Sylvie sighed and went down one step at a time wrapping herself in her warm robe.
She watched him still absorbed in reading.
" Is that better? " she asked in a flat tone. Loki immediately felt the slight annoyance at uttering those words, but let it go. He already knew why she was stymied.
" I think...yes." she said finally, without looking away from the page. Sylvie replied with a cold "fine" before going to the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee.
She brought him a steaming cup and sat cross-legged on the sofa.
" Do you think ignoring the problem will solve it? " she asked after a long silence.
Loki rolled his eyes, sighing. " We have already talked about it. It's nothing, just stupid nightmares. "
Sylvie raised a puzzled eyebrow. " Stupid I wouldn't say, since you use seiðr without realizing it. "
Loki badly closed the book he had and threw it on the small table placed in front of him. He abandoned the cup with the untouched coffee and stood up abruptly.
" What do you want me to do? " he asked spreading his arms wide, irritated. He hated having to look for the answer to something he did not understand. Especially if that something was about him.
Sylvie went to the kitchen to get herself a piece of cake. She offered a slice to him as well, but he refused. He was not hungry; thoughts and doubts had closed his stomach.
" You will not like what I am about to tell you. " Sylvie resumed, chewing a mouthful of cake. She then made a grimace when she ascertained that it did not taste good and pushed the plate away. " But if you want to start feeling better you should start talking about it. "
The god of Mischief looked at her grimly. He had not liked hearing those words at all because he knew they were true. He had never told her about his nightmares or the discomfort he was experiencing. Everything that was troubling him was keeping him inside himself, hermetically sealed in the deepest layer of his being. This, however, meant exploding sooner or later. He just hoped not to hurt himself too much.
" Talking about it won't solve a damn thing. " he said after a long silence in which he had contemplated her serious gaze. Those blue eyes were peering into his gut, just to unearth the smallest hint of what Loki was overbearingly hiding. He could no longer tolerate those piercing eyes and looked away.

Chapter Text

Everything at that moment seemed to be put there on purpose to distract her. The boulder didn't stay in the air for more than a few seconds before falling heavily to the ground. She opened one eye and found that Loki was looking at her intently.
"You're distracted. Concentrate. " he reproached her, visibly annoyed.
Sylvie huffed exhaustedly. It was now late afternoon and they had spent the entire day lifting objects of various sizes and moving them around. She was tired and wanted to finish the lesson as soon as possible, but Loki had no intention of stopping.
Sitting cross-legged in front of her, he ordered her to close her eyes.
“That boulder won't move on its own.” he continued as he watched Sylvie frown in an expression of maximum concentration.
“It's too heavy. ” she murmured, feeling a drop of sweat sliding down her temple.
“ It's hard because you're not concentrating properly. ”
“ Or maybe because I have a terrible teacher. ” hissed Sylvie, focusing carefully on the word terrible.
After several minutes of silence and concentration the massif moved slightly and at that point Sylvie gave up. He placed his palms on the grass behind him and looked up at the sky.
“ I'm exhausted. ”
“ That's enough for today. But tomorrow I demand more concentration from you. ” said Loki, getting up and stretching his legs, which were sore from the long sitting position.
“ Instead of scolding me, you could show me how to do it. ”
Sylvie ran her hands through her hair to smooth out the mess and stretched her arms upward in an attempt to soothe her back and neck.
Loki sighed and closed his eyes.

“ It is not difficult to use seiðr, but you must not lose concentration.” a sudden wind crept between the two of them, ruffling their hair. The leaves danced around them. “ You must empty your mind and let the power flow freely. You just have to drive it. ”
The boulder began to rise from the ground, slowly leaving the ground.
 “ Don't think about how to direct him, let him guide you. ”
Sylvie couldn't help but be fascinated by the mastery with which Loki used his power. There were no errors or forcing, it was as if he was born to use the seiðr.
“ And when you need it, use it. ”
In a fraction of a second the rock mass exploded into microscopic particles, leaving only dust in the air.
" Now that wasn’t so hard.”  he said, giving Sylvie a crooked smile.
“It’s easy for you. You've spent your whole life studying this stuff. ” she muttered.
“ It was you who wanted to learn. ”
“ I would have preferred a better teacher. ”
Loki took one of her hands and turned her palm towards the ground. He stood behind her and then placed his hand on top of hers. His hand was cold.
“ Do you hear the seiðr flowing? ” he asked whispering in her ear, helping Sylvie to connect with her power. The girl nodded.
“ Then let him go, don't stop him. ”

Sylvie closed her eyes and let Loki guide her. He could sense tiny insects moving among the blades of grass, birds flying to their nests, squirrels climbing up into the branches of trees.
Everything was suddenly clear. Even though she couldn't see, she could feel life flowing around her.
Now that Loki was behind her and helping her it was much easier. She smiled feeling him so close. Loki moved his fingers just above his hand and a wave spread downwards, dispersing immediately afterwards.
Sylvie laughed. “ It's strange. It almost tickles. ”
There was something in Sylvie's laughter that Loki missed. His study of magic had not been as carefree as Sylvie's. He had dedicated body and soul to the study of the only thing he truly felt suited to. It had never been a game for him, nor a moment of carefree. He only remembered the anger and the countless tears shed.
He wanted to laugh too, but he couldn't. Only the contemptuous laughter of the children who teased him because he didn't fight like a true warrior rang in his head.

“ Look at him, he doesn't even know how to handle a sword. ”
“ Instead of fighting, use magic tricks! ”
“ How can someone like that be Thor's brother? ”

Loki released the girl's hand and turned his back to her, ready to leave.
“ Hey, what's wrong with you? " asked Sylvie, not understanding that sudden change of plan.
“ It's getting late. Let's go. " he told her, heading towards home without even waiting for her.
Sylvie sighed in resignation and followed him. Sometimes it’s impossible to understand him.

They didn't talk much during dinner. Loki was too distracted, deep in thought.
In silence they tidied up the kitchen and then sat down on the sofa. Sylvie took his arm and put it behind her head, then snuggled into his chest. He had felt distant all day and only now realized how much he had missed him. When the God of Mischief thought he left no room for anyone, not even her.
Loki began stroking her hair absently, while with the other he held a book open.
Sylvie, however, kept an eye on him. He was paler than usual and the black circles under his eyes gave him an exhausted look.
What's inside your mind right now?
The closer she got, the more he pulled away. And even when he touched her she felt distant.
Why don't you talk to me?
Sitting on the sofa they only had the light of the fire to illuminate them. Loki appeared absorbed in his book but immediately realized that he wasn't actually understanding anything of what he was reading.
Look at me.

Sylvie slowly moved her hand towards his but received no return. He hadn't even noticed.
God, she wanted to use her powers to get into his mind. The only one in the world she couldn't have access to was the man sitting next to her. His mind is too strong to submit to his whims.
Absurd how he could look into anyone but…himself.
She leaned towards him to see what he was reading, but the words were in a language she didn't understand.
"I was wondering..." she began at a certain point. “ When we were on Lamentis-1, what song were you singing? "
“ How come this occurred to you now? "
" I don't know... it just came to mind like that. I have rarely seen you so cheerful. "
Loki finally looked away from his book. “ In fact it's better if you don't get used to it. » he smiled. He went back to reading as if he had finished the topic.
“ Seriously. 2 Sylvie didn't give up easily. “ What did you sing? "
Loki closed the book and abandoned it on the nearby table. Then he shrugged.
“ It's an old Asgardian song. All the children know her. "
Sylvie crossed her arms. “ Yes, apparently they didn't have time to teach me. "
Loki placed his hands forward to calm her. “ Okay, okay... if you want I'll let you hear it. "
He cleared his throat and started singing. The voice was low, but warm.

I stormsvarte fjell, jeg vandrer aleneOver isbreen tar jeg meg fremI eplehagen står møyen den veneOg synger "når kommer du hjem?"

Sylvie closed her eyes. Suddenly a distant memory crossed her mind. She had heard this song before, somewhere. Was it a song her mother sang to her before going to sleep?

Men trærne danser og fossene stanser
Når hun synger, hun synger kom hjem
Men trærne danser og fossene stanser

A silent tear slipped down her rosy cheek. She heard a female voice singing it, but she couldn't remember her face.

Når hun synger hun synger kom hjemMen trærne danser og siarne stanser

Loki wiped away her tear with his thumb. He was very close, she could feel his breath on her lips.
Sylvie also sang the last words in a whisper.

He stops at the end, waiting,
And singing, 'When are you coming home?

Loki smiled slightly. " You see? Someone had taught it to you. "
Sylvie nodded. « Now I remember it. » she wiped his wet eye with the palm of his hand.
" More than a children's song it seems more like a reference to your life. » she continued.
Loki knew what she meant. It was no coincidence that he chose the one to sing to Sylvie on Lamentis. In Asgardian she was the only one who could understand him. A few words were enough to reveal his emotion.
" Yes, it seems to be done on purpose, right? Maybe that's why my mother often sang it to me. "
" A song about self-imposed isolation and loneliness. Someone who has turned his back on Asgard and now can no longer return to the only place he has ever considered “home” "
Loki sighed. « Asgard was never my home. "
" And what is your home then? "
Loki bit his lower lip. What was his home now? Sylvie would undoubtedly have answered, but was that really the case?
Could he consider a life with her in an unknown corner of Midgard as his safe haven?
" You refuse to believe that you don't care about the kingdom you lost and your family, but that's not the case. "

Sylvie knew that for Loki Asgard would always be his home, even if he insisted on admitting …the opposite.
The Æser wanted to defend himself, but felt helpless. His words were starting to dig into an armor that had begun to show the first cracks.
" Because if it were me, I would have done everything to hold on to everything I had. " she said, narrowing her gaze.
Loki didn't answer. What could he say? It was difficult to give an explanation, perhaps because he couldn't give himself a reason either.
But it was also true that their lives had taken two completely opposite paths. She had been torn from his life and his affections, he had never been part of it.
His was not an unfounded hatred. What he had been through had made him this way.
After a long pause Loki spoke again.
“ If you were me, you would have acted in the exact same way as me. Because you and I are the same person. »
Sylvie shook her head in dissent.
" You're wrong. "
Loki opened his hand and immediately the image of a beautiful kingdom appeared between his palm and fingers
Sylvie's eyes wondered. It seemed to be made of light, the buildings shone so majestically they were. The attention to detail was obsessive.
“ Asgard was a kingdom where if you were strong and beautiful you were loved by everyone. Thor was the perfect one, the one everyone aspired to be like. I was the youngest brother who had taken none of the strength and beauty typical of the royal family. I've spent my whole life wondering why I was so different. "
The houses of the projections dissolved to make way for the magnificence of the largest and oldest palace in the nine kingdoms.
“ It was after years that I discovered that I belonged to the worst race in the nine kingdoms. My father was not Odin, Father of the Gods, but Laufey, King of the Frost Giants. "
Sylvie didn't speak. She also knew she was adopted but didn't know the rest of her story.
“ On the one hand I felt relieved because I finally understood why I had never felt part of Asgard. On the other hand, however, I have never been considered as a son, but as a simple bargaining chip. A pawn to be used for mere political purposes. Taking me was not an act of mercy towards a dying newborn, but like the greed of a ruler who saw in me only a tool to be able to ally himself with the Frost Giants. "
Asgard began to lose its beauty and the palaces began to crumble. “ No one ever showed me any consideration, because everyone knew who I really was. Thor was too stupid to realize what people really thought and that one-eyed old man enjoyed seeing me suffer. » Asgard was engulfed in flames. “ And this is the end it deserved.”
Sylvie fell silent.
Every time that sore point was touched Loki's expression changed. She understood that for him it was still an open, throbbing and painful wound. And she also understood why he couldn't sleep anymore. The guilt was eating away at him.
” If you don't face what made you suffer, you will never get over it, Loki.”
That sentence came to Loki like a bucket of cold water. Everything about his past had been openly ignored by both of them under tacit agreement. Digging up what had led him to be who he was, were centuries of resentment, hatred, tears and suffering.
Centuries in which everything he felt he had been forced to lock inside because it is unacceptable that the youngest brother of the powerful and beloved heir to the throne felt such visceral hatred towards him.
A pain that over time has furrowed his soul with deep and incurable bleeding wounds.
Loki closed his fist and made the illusion disappear. His eyes were sharp, coldly calculating.
Sylvie could no longer hold back. “ At least tell me what made you like this. How can you hate someone who gave you everything?” it was done. Now she was seriously doomed, but she didn't give up. “ You have had everything in life. A luxurious and welcoming palace, the privileges of a prince, a family that loved you.”. She didn't finish her sentence before Loki's hand wrapped around her wrist in a strong, painful grip. He pulled her towards him and Sylvie refrained from moaning.
His voice was so low it didn't even sound like him.
There was fire in his eyes.
“ Don't you ever dare talk about things you don't know again." every word was poison that lashed her with a sharp blow. “You can't know what I've been through! “
Sylvie managed to free herself from his grip and jumped up.
“ Then tell me! Tell me what happened, tell me why you are so poisoned!”
Loki was furious. In a split second he was in front of her.
“ Sometimes I really struggle to believe that you and I are the same person. Why are you so damn stupid that-“
A slap hit his cheek. Sylvie felt his palm burn. The skin on Loki's face immediately began to redden.
“You are ungrateful. I am doing everything for you and you repay me this way. If no one wants you ask yourself why!”

“Yes Loki, ask yourself why no one wants you. You were abandoned and then disowned. Everyone is afraid of you because you only bring death and desolation. I would have been better off letting you die on that cold altar instead of taking you with me.
The touch of a cold hand made him jump. Even though he was hooded, he knew well who the figure he saw in front of him was.
He tried to step back but his legs were stuck. Around them only absolute black.
"Impossible..." I muttered, looking around and looking for a way out. He felt trapped.
“ You were a disappointment to everyone and your mother died from the pain of having you as a son.”
The figure removed his hood and revealed his disfigured face. The one remaining eye was an intense, petrifying blue.
“You should have died, not her.”

Loki fell to his knees and placed his palms on the ground.
He was shaking.
Sylvie was scared to see him like that.
But what the hell is happening?
She tried to approach cautiously but the man in front of him screamed and a green shockwave erupted from his body hitting the entire room.
Glass shattered and objects flew everywhere.
And then darkness.

Gradually Loki managed to open his eyes. His head hurt like hell. He recognized the room in his house and the soft sofa he was lying on. Sylvie was picking up shards of glass with her broom and stopped when she realized Loki was awake.
“ Well woken up. “ she said in a flat voice. There was some apprehension in her voice.
“ What happened?” he murmured in a faint voice, passing a hand over his forehead.
“ I don't know, you tell me.”
Sylvie slowly approached and then sat down on a corner of the sofa. She picked at her fingers.
Loki braced his elbows and raised half his torso. The pain in his temples pounded relentlessly.
Few times had he felt so weak.
Gently the girl took his hand in hers. It was freezing. She felt guilty because she had wanted at all costs to bring up a topic that shouldn't have interested her.
The Loki before him was not the evil, power-hungry Loki everyone feared. He wasn't even the Loki who nearly destroyed New York, forcing a group of heroes to band together to stop him. He wasn't even the cold Loki disdainful of everything and everyone.
No, what she had in front of her was a man who had exposed his weak and fragile side. At that moment he just seemed like someone to protect.
Only when he managed to focus on what was around him did Loki notice what was placed on the table in front of them.
The Tempad.
Loki flinched.
“ What is it doing there? » he asked, looking Sylvie in the eyes and pointing to the object. “ We said we would never use it again. »

“ Theoretically yes, if it weren't for the fact that the feelings of guilt are destroying you.”
Loki was taken aback. What did she mean?
“If you continue to ignore them they will soon take over. And you will end up succumbing to the darkest part of you.” she continued, observing him carefully.
Loki felt like he was dying. Rather than relive everything he had been through, he would have let himself be killed by Thanos a thousand and a thousand more times.
He wasn't ready to face it all again. His past was coming back to demand a reckoning and he wasn't ready.
But would it ever be?
Would he be able to face centuries of pain and look back at what made him this way?
The God of Mischief.
The green-eyed monster.
Silver tongue.
The God of Evil
These were some of the names that had been given to him over the years and when, throughout your life, they call you that, you eventually become convinced that what they say is true.
And it sticks to you and soaks your soul even if you don't want to.
But Loki had decided that he would shake off what Asgard had made him believe he was. But the more he tried, the more he realized that there was no escape from what had now become part of him.
It would always be what Asgard wanted it to be.
That's why he couldn't go back in time. He couldn't prove to those beautiful and powerful fake gods - or at least that's what they believed - that they were right.
He didn't want to prove to himself that he was as irredeemable as they had always thought.
“What if... what if we had to pretend nothing happened instead? In the end they're just nightmares, right?” he said. Ignoring and pretending nothing happened was definitely the best weapon.
Sylvie narrowed her gaze and her face darkened.
“Today you destroyed our house, tomorrow it could be half of America. Your powers are growing dramatically and you can no longer control them.”
Loki smiled crookedly. If there was one thing that could never, ever happen, it was losing control of his powers. He had trained hard to avoid being overwhelmed by the seiðr. He would never bend to someone else's strength, which is why he had trained his mind to resist any external force. Nothing and no one would ever be able to bend him to his will. And he was very proud of this.
“ I have to disagree with this, my dear Sylvie. I have always had full control over my powers.”
“You turned blue.” she cut short, crossing her arms over her chest.
Loki couldn't say another word. He was shocked.
For a moment he thought she was making fun of him, but Sylvie's serious and worried look confirmed to him that it was all true.
He had lost control over his human form and had taken on the appearance of that horrible race to which he belonged. His bloodline had taken over him.
Yes he looked at his arm. Blue reflections flowed beneath his white skin.
An expression of pure horror crossed his face.
“We have to resolve this matter, and quickly too.”

Chapter Text

Sitting on the couch Loki waited for Ouroboros to start saying something. By now he had been fiddling with his electronic contraption full of lights for more than half an hour, and the wait was becoming nerve-wracking, to say the least. He was drumming his fingers on the armrest of the couch and constantly running his chin with his other hand. He was nervous, very nervous.
After the incident the day before, Sylvie had suggested asking Mobius for help.
Mobius was the only friend they had and the only person they could trust.
It was strange for Loki to have a friend.
As a child, his mother always told him to get out of the palace a bit and make new friends.
" You need to make friends, Loki. " Frigga once told him. A veil of worry hovered in her voice. " You shouldn't be alone all the time. "
Loki did not even look up from his book of ancient runes. " Children my age are all stupid, Mother. I don't waste my time with inept people like that. " he replied quietly. Frigga sighed. " Sooner or later you will need someone. "

Loki had not willingly accepted Sylvie's idea. Why involve someone like Mobius in a thorny issue that did not concern him? He was a mere midgardian, what could he understand about millennia-old kingdoms, dark forces and indescribable powers?
Sylvie, however, was so insistent that Loki could only huff surrenderingly and accept that his old friends were learning about his little problem.
That is why Ouroboros was meticulously studying every smallest detail of what had happened the day before. He had analyzed the room, the bedroom, even the clothes and belongings of both of them. Each time his gaze grew serious, his eyebrows furrowed in a careful expression, but no words came out of his mouth.
And this made Loki nervous and impatient.

For the Norns, why was he not saying anything? He kept repeating himself in his mind as he watched the scientist move from one side to the other.
No one dared to utter a word.
" And so you would be an Frost Giant. Although it makes me strange to believe that, honestly. To look at you you have everything but being a giant and of Frost. " Mobius found everyone's gaze pointed at him.
" Now what does this have to do with anything? " said Loki annoyed by his comment.
Mobius fiddled with his lighter, constantly turning it between his fingers. " Because you are pale and puny. " he said with an amused smile that Loki found irritating.
" Do you want to see what I reduce you to, you powerless midgardian mediocrity? " he hissed, thinning his gaze.
Mobius still had that irritating smirk on his lips. " The mediocre midgardian took the seiðr from you once. I could do it again if I wanted to. "
" Try it. "
" Enough is enough! " shouted Sylvie putting herself in front of the TVA detective. " May we know what's the matter with you! "
Mobius smiled amusedly in the direction of Loki who gave him a grim look. He had radically changed his mind about the god of Mischief with the passage of time. From being the dangerous criminal he had just arrived at TVA, with a visceral rage and hatred toward anyone who even tried to look at him, over time he had seen him slowly change in the way he addressed them, from looks that were no longer of contempt, but more friendly and from a sharp and arrogant tone to more calm and sincere. Mobius had come to appreciate Loki for his intelligence and keen attention to detail. Sure, he found his small talk tedious and when he addressed them as if they were complete idiots he would have slapped him in the face, but all in all he did not dislike him as a person.
Perhaps it was because they were a bit alike after all.
" This silence is unbearable and I'm getting bored. I was just provoking our dear friend." he said quietly. " Maybe he'll lose control again and we'll see for ourselves what's going on. "

Loki opened his mouth to retort, but Sylvie interrupted him before they started poking each other again.
" O-B, do you have any news? "
The scientist looked up from his device and looked at the girl questioningly. " Did you say something? "
Sylvie rolled her eyes. " You've been fiddling with that thing for a long time. Did you find something yes or no? " she said not concealing her annoyed tone at all.
" Ah, yes yes " he muttered, mashing a few keys. " I can say with absolute certainty that there is absolutely nothing wrong with Loki. He is as healthy as a horse! " he said with a broad smile.
Loki sighed and ran a hand over his face. " I am a god, of course i’m healthy! I certainly can't get sick like you want weak and useless midgardians! " he blurted out annoyed. That situation was bordering on the ridiculous. " We are just wasting time. "
" Besides the fact that you have no medical condition, something is compromising your timeline. " Ouroboros continued as if nothing was wrong.
Loki at those words widened his eyes and stood up sharply. " What did you say? "
" I said you have no various diseases. "
Loki huffed.
“ No! That timeline thing! "
" Ah, right! " O-B went back to looking at his device. " From my data it would seem that something is tampering with certain events that have already happened. It's like pieces are missing. "
Loki moved to his side to get a better look. On the display he saw a fragmented orange line.
" What does this thing mean? " he murmured, looking at the damn line as if hypnotized by it.
" I mean that what you are having are not just nightmares, but scenes from your life that have already happened. See, the line is fragmented. "
Fragmented? How could his timeline be fragmented? What was it succeeding?
" What do you suggest we do? " Sylvie asked instead of Loki, as the latter did not utter a word.
Ouroboros adjusted his glasses on his nose with two fingers. " I say we need to go back in time and fix what is missing. It is like a puzzle that is missing pieces. You have to find them and put them back in place, otherwise the picture might fade away. "
Loki burst into laughter, a hysterical laughter that made everyone turn in his direction. " You're joking, right? "
" Why would I joke? I don't think this is a good time for a joke. " he said with a simple shrug, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Loki's stomach knotted up. Going back in time was out of the question. It meant retracing certain events that no, never, ever would be revisited. Certain things had to stay buried there, in the depths of his darkest, most hidden memories. He certainly could not go back and relive them as if nothing had happened.
Or could he?
He thought back to the last word said by O-B and swallowed. Fade out. Was this going to be the end of him? To slowly fade from the timeline so that no one would ever remember him? Would he have ended up forgotten by everyone? No, he could not bear that. He was the god of Mischief, for the Norns, he had been king of Asgard for a short time, he had almost conquered Midgard, he had glorious resolutions to carry out in which he would subdue the entire universe. He could not just vanish as if nothing had happened. What would become of him?
He looked at Sylvie and thought of the moment when she would forget him. He felt anguish pervade him. He would not allow her, the only person in the world who really cared about anything, to forget him. She could not remove him from her memories; she would not allow it.
After a brief moment of reflection, he moistened his lips. " Go back...where?"
He was terrified to find out.
O-B resumed tinkering with his device. A series of numbers and codes were reflected on the lenses of the glasses. " I will have to reconstruct what is missing, but a first missing fragment I have already managed to locate. " He pressed a few more keys, leaving everyone with bated breath. " It's about...Joutheneim, about a thousand years ago. "
Loki widened his eyes, in disbelief. " But that is the place and year I was born. " he said more to himself than to others.
With a sharp gesture he snatched the device from the scientist's hands and began to walk around the room.
He read that sentence over and over again, as if to convince himself that it was a mistake. A tremendous mistake.
Joutheneim year 965 AD.
He was shocked. How could this be? He felt his head explode from too many thoughts. To return there, to the Ice Kingdom was unthinkable. What he had always repudiated as his origins was now calling him back powerfully. He could say no more.
" But if pieces are missing the moment he was born, why is he here?" asked Mobius, crossing his arms over his chest. " Shouldn't it, I don't know, fade away or something? "
Ouroboros rubbed his chin thoughtfully. " Probably because that fragment was not erased, but modified. Consequently, its timeline was not erased, but rewritten. "
Loki dwelt carefully on that word. He began to think and think, working out theories and plans as only he could do. If the timeline had changed, then he could bring it back to the way it was before.
Mobius rose from his chair and rubbed his hands together in a decidedly smug expression. " Well, then I'd say it's time to get a move on. TVA's best team back at work! "
O-B wrinkled his forehead. " You cannot go. Your temporal aura does not match Loki's. If you entered his timeline you would explode instantly. " He was very serious, so serious that he silenced everyone. He cleared his throat before continuing. " Only Sylvie can go with him. "
Now everyone was looking at her, and Sylvie felt the weight of their stares on her. To follow Loki on a trip through time? That was absurd, but apparently necessary. She certainly would not have abandoned him at such a time. He would have helped him and they would have been a team.
She laid eyes on the god and quickly realized that Loki had other plans in mind for her.
" I will go alone. " he sentenced coldly, chilling everyone out. He gave no one a chance to reply because his green eyes were austere and said more than a thousand words. He gave the device into O-B's hand and began to issue a series of orders. " Make sure all the missing fragments are properly recorded, then transfer them to my Tempad. " He turned back to the girl. " Sylvie, pack your things and find somewhere else to go. It is not safe to stay here. " Finally he looked at Mobius. " You go back to TVA and monitor it from there. Your task here is finished. "
Sylvie did not accept those orders, you could see it in her pulled face. How dare he tell her what to do and what not to do? She moved fast enough to get in front of him and stop him from going wherever he was going. " Brake for a moment! Who gave you permission to decide for everyone? "
" Since this is about me and me alone I have every right to give all the orders I want. " he hissed, hardening his gaze.
Sylvie shortened the distance and stared him straight in the eye. " We said we would face together whatever came in front of us, didn't we? " she lowered her voice. " Never alone again. "
Lok remembered well the promise they had made to each other. It was the first thing they said to each other once they entered the house. Sylvie had sunk her fingers into his dark hair and drawn him to her in a long, passionate kiss. She had pushed him onto the couch and straddled him, soaking in his emerald eyes. She had seen so much melancholy and loneliness in his gaze that it was almost spontaneous to make him make that promise. " Will you always be there for me?" she asked him, sliding her hand further down his chest.
" Always. " he said reaching for the girl's rosy lips.
" Then I will always be there for you, too. Never alone again. "

Loki sighed for a long time at those words. Promises were serious business for the gods, even for him. He was a deceiver and a liar, but he also had an honor to uphold. Breaking that promise would have dishonored his being a god and a prince, as well as deeply hurt Sylvie. He did not want to make her feel abandoned by him, not after what she had been through in which everyone had eventually left her. In fact the only one she had left was him alone.
" I know what we said to each other, but this time is different. " he turned away from her. He could not stand that piercing look. " Here it means going over everything I've done, every act of wickedness and malice toward people close to me. " he lowered his voice. " I don't think you'll ever be ready to see it. "
Sylvie laid a finger on his lips. " It is not for you to decide. I am free to choose what I want for myself. "
Loki took her hand and brushed it with his lips then closed his eyes. " We are here to help you. " whispered Sylvie. Her green eyes were firm but conveyed calm.
What could he answer her? Tell her that he agreed and was glad she was coming too? That would have been a flat-out lie.
He had never minded lying or deceiving someone for his own benefit, but with Sylvie it was different. Those green eyes so piercing pierced him from side to side like a glowing blade.
The only time he had felt choked by an intense gaze was when he arrived in handcuffs in Asgard.
In his pride, he walked swaggering and amused amid the looks of disdain he received from the inhabitants of the kingdom who had decided to witness the return of the fallen prince. They were afraid of him, but curiosity was such that it had led them to flock to the streets of the city to peek even for a moment at the fate of the son deemed too strange even for them.
Word had spread among the people that Loki was a frost giant, and this had generated no small murmur among them as he was escorted to the palace.
It would have been great fun to transform and make them scream in terror. Too bad his powers had been blocked by Allfather.
He was not at all touched by the way those too-blond and too-tanned inept men looked at him. After all, he was used to it, but when he reached the throne room and saw his mother all the bravado and arrogance from before collapsed like a sand castle.
Those blue eyes so full of disappointment in him hurt him deeply. He had managed to disappoint the one person in the universe he would never hurt. When he saw her crying he thought he wanted to scream and disappear forever.
He would not have endured the same look in Sylvie as well; it would have hurt too much.
He took a big breath before saying what he already knew would make him regret it for the rest of his life.
" All right. " he murmured. " But you must never interfere with what I'm going to do, understood? "
Sylvie nodded and smiled. Loki also wanted to smile back at her, but he did not. He was worried and unconvinced about that choice.
Mobius cleared his throat. " If the two lovebirds are done arguing, I would return to TVA to try to reconstruct what is missing from your timeline. " He pointed his finger at both of them and became serious. " You two don't do any nonsense in the meantime, got it? We'll be back soon. " he said, disappearing inside an orange portal.
Loki furrowed his brow. " Why does he always look at us as if we are about to combine something? "
Sylvie shrugged her shoulders. " Would that surprise you? "

New York, year 2015
Bruce banner didn't like that damn thing that emitted blue light at all.
Ever since they had returned with Loki's scepter, a strange feeling kept hovering inside him. He had never been convinced about the retrieval mission, let alone having him there at Avengers Tower. It would have been better to send him to Asgard along with that madman.
" I don't like it, Tony. " sighed Bruce as he looked at the computer.
Tony had become fixated on the idea of keeping it there and studying it, but Bruce was not convinced.
It had been used by Loki to attack the city, command an army of bloodthirsty monsters, and almost lost their lives. Why play with a high-powered contraption like that? It would have been dangerous.
Tony Stark sighed noisily.
" You've been telling me for 3 damn months that you don't like it. Do you feel like changing your tune or do I have to listen to this broken record over and over again? "
Tony was really annoyed by his being so hostile toward the scepter. Banner could not see past the fear that power gave him. Instead, Tony looked into the distance, with the eyes of someone who already understood the great potential that object had. He wanted to use it to create a new world security program, make the world a safe place, and above all, not be unprepared for a new threat.
After all, who was to tell him that Loki was only the first in a series of enemies of extraordinary strength?
Asgard was now their ally, but no one could assure them that they would never rise up against them. They had to be ready for any eventuality; any alien threat could not get the better of them.
Bruce crossed his hands under his chin and a serious look was painted on his face. " This time is different, Tony. The data..."
" I don't care what the data says! This thing is alien, the data we have catalogued over the years is worthless now! "
Tony would not admit that anyone or anything told him what he could or could not do.
What the data said-or what Bruce said-didn't matter to him.
He knew what he was doing and he was going to take it all the way.
" There is a lot of instability in the scepter. You persist in not seeing it, but he's been acting strange for days. " Banner said as he left his desk to join Tony's on the opposite side of the room.
" And how can a little blue ball embedded in a ridiculous scepter behave strangely?" he said, smiling as if Bruce had said the most ridiculous thing ever. He was taking notes on a notepad, and Banner was quite annoyed at how he didn't even consider it.
" When the scepter arrived it was stable, always emitting the same amount of energy. Now it has surges, as if it is reacting to something. "
Tony continued to write his notes without even looking up.
" Maybe he's tired of hearing you complain. " he said bored.
" Or maybe..." Bruce placed his palms on the table, forcing Tony to stop and look at him. " Something is interfering with his energy. "
Tony was surprised by Bruce's serious look. His concern was tangible, so much so that for a moment the idea began to develop in his subconscious that perhaps Banner was right.
He quickly banished that thought by assuming his usual cocky air.
" You're getting conditioned by the fact that you never liked this scepter or wanted it here. "
Banner removed his glasses and lowered his voice.
" Have you ever wondered if the fact that Loki used all that power didn't somehow relate to the scepter?"
Tony tightened his lips. Banner's expression began to seriously worry him. Why all this agitation toward something that had never been a problem? He could not understand why Banner had such revulsion toward the alien object.
Yet something began to stir deep inside. Maybe what Bruce was saying was true. Maybe they really were playing with fire. The scientist's reasoning was perfectly logical. What if Loki was bound to the scepter and somehow could feel it? What if he wanted to return one day to claim it?
No, he could afford no doubt. Not now.
" You my friend have serious problems. " he said, trying to mask the insecurity that was beginning to pervade him.
Bruce rolled his eyes and ran both hands over his face. " Talking to you is like talking to the wall. "
" Look. " Tony leaned his notes badly on the desk and assumed an air of seriousness, of one who did not admit of retort. " Nothing is happening, okay? Everything is under control. Loki is not bound to this scepter nor will he ever have any power over it because, guess what, he is thousands of light-years away from us imprisoned by a group of Viking gods who are very angry with him, so rest assured that-"
He did not finish his sentence that a sudden energy sprang from the scepter, which spread throughout the room. Glasses exploded, windows and papers flew everywhere.
Bruce shielded his eyes with his arms and Tony managed to duck down to desk level.
When they came to, they saw the sphere embedded in the scepter emanating a light that was no longer blue but white.
Both scientists looked at each other worriedly.
" You still claim everything is under control? " Bruce said, trying to maintain control. It was not a good time to let the green monster out. He took big breaths as Tony cautiously approached the scepter.
" Jarvis, analyze the scepter and tell me what you see. "
" Yes, sir. "
Within a few seconds Tony stark intelligence analyzed the object, but what he said he did not like.
" Sir, I sense instability within the core. "
" What kind of instability? " he insisted.
" I'm afraid I can't answer that. The material of which the object is composed is of an unknown nature. However..." Tony became attentive and Banner waited. " I can state that the energy contained in the scepter is searching for its owner. " Tony's eyes widened and Bruce gave him an "I told you so" look.
" Jarvis is not possible. Loki has not been on Earth for quite some time. "
" Sir, he is not only looking for it on Earth, but in all dimensions. He's traveling through time, space, and ... " even Jarvis seemed to catch a break. "...between universes. "

Chapter Text

Loki constantly wondered why things could never be simple for him.
His brother had found a midgardian, a mediocre and petulant midgardian at that, with whom he had fallen madly in love, and they had simply decided to live quietly and peacefully on earth with their friends. As if nothing had happened.
Thor could afford to live the life he wanted; he had always had that privilege. Loki had never had such a chance.
He was convinced that his brother would marry Lady Sif someday. They were a perfect match, as beautiful and strong as any. He had always seen them as very close-knit, especially when they teamed up to tease or annoy him.
Sif had once seen him alone reading in the shade of a large tree while the other kids were having fun challenging each other to various tests of strength.
"You're strange," she told him as she stood in front of him and crossed her arms over her chest. An amused grin rippled his lips. " You could come and fight with us and pose as a real man for once. Am I right, ergi? (1) "
Loki could no longer stand that skjaldmær (2), of her constantly provoking him and calling him effeminate (3) just because he used seiðr as his main weapon, so he decided to make her pay by turning her into a toad and then throwing her into a river.
"It was just a joke," he had justified to the king and queen of Asgard, but of course it was not a joke and he fervently hoped that she would drown or be eaten by a larger predator. (4)

When Sif returned human she beat him to a pulp in revenge.
As a result of this event he was forbidden to use seiðr in the palace, to use it against the Asgardians, and training had to be done under the queen's supervision. He was barely a teenager when it happened, and yet he remembered very well the worried looks his parents exchanged, intimidated by what he was becoming.
A lost cause.
He also swore he saw Odin give his wife a look that said, "It's your fault if he became like this. Did you have to teach him to use that stupid magic?"

That night he and Sylvie had loved each other as never before. A love of intensity, of eagerness, of desperate need to feel that one was there for the other.
The torment of someone who was terrified that he would soon lose everything.
Dawn had long since dawned and Sylvie allowed herself to get some rest, which Loki could not.
He reviewed on his tempad the places and time that Mobius had found. All that he had closed behind him had never really been set aside.
" Loki..." a voice still laced with sleep called to him from behind.
Sylvie sat up and stretched.
" Did you get some sleep? "
" No. " replied the god. " I can't close my eyes. "
He was definitely overwrought, you could tell by the black marks under his eyes and his face paler than usual. He did not want to sleep because he was afraid of losing control. When awake, on the other hand, he could stay focused and, most importantly, he would not have nightmares.
The girl got up and put on a woolen robe, then joined him by sitting on the floor beside him.
" Mobius was able to update the tempad with the final data. This is the list. " He handed it to her and Sylvie took it between her fingers.
A thousand years of life, five marked dates that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand existences, Flashed like firebrands.
What was she doing in those moments? Running away from TVA and working out her revenge. That was all.
Loki took the tempad from Sylvie's hands and with a gesture made it disappear. Then he turned around and got down on his knees, looking under the bed for something. He pulled out a large brown trunk.
Magic was needed to open it, and it was enough to pass his hand over it that a green light illuminated the lock.
He opened the trunk and touched the fabric of a dress he had hoped with all his heart that he would never have to wear again, but sadly that had not been the case.
The fine material was of the finest quality that all the nine kingdoms could have. With a sigh he passed his hand over it is immediately the shirt and pants he wore replaced his black and green Asgardian garment. The fabric adhered perfectly to him, adapting to his every movement, but rather than a second skin he felt it like a suffocating vise. He fastened at the neck the button of the long black cape that had covered him and made him unnoticed.
Sylvie did the same, effectively wearing the only dress she had when she had arrived there. Hers was also similar to Loki's: black and green.
At the bottom of the trunk shone the blades of their weapons.
Loki's daggers, Sylvie's sword.
Those too with a gesture disappeared.
" I would say we are ready. "
Sylvie squared him and sketched a half smile. " Maybe you looked better in the Levi's than you did before. "
Loki did not reply. He didn't like the Midgardian clothes, but they were definitely more comfortable he had to admit.
Sylvie ran her fingers over his arm running along the seams until she reached his chest.
" Very good quality, congratulations. "
" Only the best for royalty. " he said with a half smile.
" Obviously. "
Sylvie drew back and had her back to him. She made herself a tail by gathering a part of her hair.
" Ready? "
Loki flanked her. " Ready. " he confirmed, giving his tempad the okay on the first date.
An orange portal opened.
" Let's go. "

*

The ice kingdom was one of the most hostile things she had ever seen. And of hostile places she had seen hundreds, having lived among apocalypses.
Not even the most dismal, bleak and desolate planet in the entire universe gave her such a distressing, suffocating feeling.
All she could see was an endless expanse of ice, cold and dark.
The icy air lashed her face like sharp blades. Yet she did not feel cold.
Jotuns do not feel frost.
Loki had once explained this to her when talking about their origins. Touching a person in their original form would have brought the area to a cold burn. The skin would immediately go gangrenous.
Instinctively she looked at his hand.
Was this where they had been born then?
A lonely, dismal mass of ice and snow.
Perhaps it was no wonder that in their souls they carried the roots of their origins. The cold and loneliness that had always accompanied them mirrored the desolate landscape that loomed up to the horizon.
" This way. " Loki pulled up the hood of the black cape he was wearing and Sylvie did the same.
They had to proceed cautiously so no horses. They had to make it on foot.
The boots sank into the fresh snow up to mid-calf. Each step became more and more difficult and the light sleet was becoming a storm.
" Joutenheim and Asgard have been in conflict for centuries. If they saw us in the shoes of two Asgardians they would kill us without a second thought."
Sylvie merely nodded. She was aware of the many battles that had stained the white snow of that distant kingdom red. Despite heavy losses on both sides, neither people would ever kneel before the other.
Their warrior pride would have prevented any diplomatic action because it would have meant surrender.
The pride of the Jotuns would never have allowed them to stoop and bow to Asgard. The same was true of the opposing gods. They were a conquering people; never would they have allowed themselves to be subdued by a people as barbaric as the Frost Giants. They would have proudly reached Valhalla rather than compromise.
Thus their war was still going on from the time of Bor, Odin's father. But it was necessary to bring it to an end, AllFather had realized for some time now. It was becoming too heavy that conflict.
That was why Loki had been taken away. Sylvie remembered the time when the god of Mischief spoke to her about this. His gaze had become serious, indecipherable.
" I am nothing but a war trophy, a relic. " he said coldly. " A political bargaining chip to end a war no one wants. To the old man I owe nothing. "

Darkness began to fall quickly and they decided to look for a safe place to rest.
Traveling at night could be dangerous.
They found a cave and decided it would be their camp for the night.
Loki shielded the entrance with an illusion and Sylvie lit a fire. They settled nearby and the goddess leaned against his shoulder, closing her eyes. They did not need to get warm, but still it was pleasant to feel the warmth. Loki watched the fire dance before him in silence, absorbed in his thoughts.
The first difference he had seen between himself and the Asgardians, besides his dark hair and too light skin, was his resistance to the cold.
While they protected themselves from Asgard's frigid winter by wearing heavy woolen cloaks and fur-lined gloves, he wore light cotton robes. He had never complained about the cold, never gnashed his teeth at the frost, not even when he and Thor competed of who stayed longest immersed in the icy waters of the river.
" Are you cold, billy goat? " he sneered as he saw the pallor on his brother's face and purple lips.
Thor thinned his gaze. " What sorcery are you using to be able to stand still without even feeling chills? "
" No sorcery, brother. " he said plunging even deeper. " Admit that I am more resistant than you. "
Thor would never admit it, too proud to lose at a silly frozen-water challenge. He watched his younger brother bask in his victory as he tried hard not to shiver from the cold.
When he finally came out, Loki smiled in amusement and did not fail to throw him a few icy-as-water taunts.
Maybe he was starting to get stronger. Maybe one day he would really be able to match him.
He frowned and stiffened his forehead. Why were those memories coming to his mind?
" So what do you suggest we do? " Sylvie said, thus distracting him from his thoughts. She was still leaning against him and he noted that he liked the warmth emanating from her much better than from the fire. He took a blond lock of hair between his fingers and began to play with it.
"We have to take our original form. We will pretend to be two soldiers serving the royal guard. Then we will have free access to the palace. "
Sylvie widened her eyes and turned to look at him. " I don't even think about turning into that hideous monster! "
Loki squinted his eyes to study her better. She had stiffened, and from the way she wrung her hands she was trying to conceal a sense of distress. They were details that did not escape his attentive, probing gaze.
" You never changed into your original form, did you? "
" This is my original form. " she hissed, pointing a finger at her chest.
" Why does it upset you so much? " he said cautiously weighing the question well.
Finally after months he was able to bring up the subject of Jotun and origins.
Loki one day revealed to her what Sylvie had long wanted to know, namely why he had been disowned by Asgard. He revealed it to her like this, one day when they were talking about this and that.
He had seen Sylvie stiffen the whole time, and when he said that he was the one who had smuggled the Frost Giants into Asgard and thus betrayed his people, Sylvie had flinched. Her fists clenched and her eyes on fire with rage.
" You are an idiot!" she shouted at him. " You had your people slaughtered by those monsters because of a childish whim of yours! " the god of Mischief tried to calm her down, to justify himself, but he achieved the opposite effect. Sylvie railed against him, cursing and spitting words of hatred and rage at him such as to leave him stunned as few times had happened to him
in his life.
When she went out, slamming the door, he was convinced he would never see her again.

" Why..." she bit his lip. It was a gesture she always made when she felt uncomfortable. She began to remember what she had been trying to bury in the deepest corners of his mind for centuries, coming fiercely and overbearingly. If Loki was by nature shy and unwilling to trust others, she was an impassable wall of coldness and mysteries.
Loki had never instigated with her. He did not care much about what she had or had not done, who she had betrayed, killed, tricked, hurt. After all, could he possibly judge anyone else?
" Because I don't want to just become that thing. " Sylvie sentenced, giving him her back and bringing her knees to her chest. For her it was a topic already closed, but Loki investigated further by taking advantage of the small chink that had opened up in her.
" I don't like the Jotuns either, let me be clear. They are a barbaric and violent people, backward and unscrupulous. Yet yours is not simple denial of your origins, but genuine revulsion. " Sylvie felt his stinging gaze on her. " Why?"
With a sigh, the girl turned and found herself immersed in the god's green eyes. They were always cold, calculating, but with a light of curiosity. He was genuinely interested in finding out more about her.
Sylvie would have liked to keep silent once again. Yet she felt the need to finally condvide with someone some of her burden. No one had ever given her that chance, because no one had ever cared about her. In her years as a fugitive she had looked for someone to cling to, to trust.
Because no one is born to be alone, and at some point learning to trust someone became an almost compelling necessity.
Once, while on Attilan, she was convinced that she had found a man who seemed sweet and understanding, a man who would keep her safe in his arms and warm her on cold nights. This illusion was short-lived, until she discovered by pure chance that the man who had promised to be by her side always was not selling her out to the worst bounty hunter in the galaxy in order to harness his power.
She killed him with a stab in the chest, in his sleep, and swore to herself that never again would she make the mistake of giving herself so easily to anyone, nor would she ever again feel that stupid, weak thing people called love.
Yet when she met Loki's gaze for the first time, she realized that-she could not explain how-from that moment on, her life would be turned upside down. Because his eyes were so damn similar to hers: cold, ruthless, melancholy.
She had found herself dreaming of them again and again over the next few nights until she met him again and could hardly contain a gasp. He was tense, ready to use every weapon in his possession to stop her, but she quickly noticed how he actually concealed a kind of hesitancy in seeing her in front of him as well. They had been looking for each other. Unconsciously, unintentionally, they were waiting for the moment to see each other again.
They had faced each other, insulted each other, sneered at each other at a pace of their own where, in fact, they were studying each other. What Loki was showing for her was something entirely new for both of them, for in the brief lull in which they had agreed to cooperate, the god of Mischief had begun to show a certain thoughtfulness-hidden in barbs and amused sneers-which no one had ever reserved for her.
He had confided in her, helped and protected her, at the cost of losing out.
So in the end it was only natural to save him by pushing him into a portal that would take him away from what she was about to do: kill He Who Remains and collapse space-time.
Loki was still waiting for an answer to his question, and Sylvie finally, taking a breath, began. " Once, when I was still in Asgard, the Jotuns invaded the kingdom. " she said in a low voice. " They broke the defenses before Heimdall knew it, and when he warned the king it was too late. They slaughtered, butchered and robbed without any mercy. "
Loki said nothing. He waited patiently for her to finish. " Laufey had come to claim me. If they had not yielded me Asgard would have been razed to the ground. My father did not yield, but the losses were too many. All my friends died. "
" What happened in the end? "
" Laufey's head ended up on a pike and my father died in the process. "
Loki tightened his lips and rested both hands on his strong shoulders. She understood so much now. He understood why she had been mad as hell when he revealed about how he smuggled the Giants in. It was a pain Sylvie had been carrying around for who knows how long and only now had she been able to talk to someone about it.
" We can't enter the palace like this and I don't have time to teach you how to become invisible or create illusions. " she said in a rough voice.
Sylvie lowered her gaze, knowing perfectly well that he was right.
" I don't know how I can transform myself. " she murmured.
Loki slid his fingers from her shoulders. " Give me your hands. "
Hesitantly Sylvie did as he asked and placed her palms on his. They both closed their eyes.
" The only time I turned into a Jotun was when I found out I was adopted. " he said in a low voice. It was an attempt to soothe her tense and nervous state of mind, which made it more difficult to use seiðr on her.
He began to creep with his mind into the girl's thoughts. He was getting inside her head, but Sylvie did not push him away. She left him free to look for what he wanted. She was suddenly tired; she would not have the strength to push him away.
Loki took care not to search through his memories because it was not something he wanted to see. He was terribly tempted, but he didn't, well aware of how intrusive it was to have someone rummaging through one's mind.
Then there it was.
Jotun's part hidden behind a powerful spell from Frigga. It was a different magic from his, perhaps that was why she had never transformed in all these years.
It took some time to get around the spell, but she finally succeeded. Frigga was powerful but Loki had surpassed her in skill.
When the spell dissolved Loki stepped out of Sylvie's mind.
" I have freed the Jotun. Now you are able to transform. "
Sylvie did not answer. She went back to looking at the fire clutching her knees to her chest in a self-protective gesture.
" We still have a few hours before Odin attacks Joutenheim and fights Laufey. You can get some rest if you want, then we have to get back on the road. I will stand guard. " said the god in an authoritative tone, accustomed to issuing orders and devising plans and strategies.
He circumspectly approached the cave entrance to make sure no one had seen them. Laufey's palace was not far away, but they had to take a longer route to be able to sneak in without being seen.
" Get some rest yourself. How long has it been since you slept? " said the young goddess behind him.
" I'm fine. " he replied without looking away from what was outside. A storm that made it impossible to see beyond a couple of meters.
" Loki..."
" I said I'm fine! " he blurted out annoyed, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.
Sylvie sighed exhaustedly and leaned back against the rock wall. She picked up her sword and studied the blade to see if it needed sharpening.
She sharpened it with firm, quick gestures. Almost with anger.
Well, even without the almost.
She just couldn't figure it out. After all, though, Mobius had warned her.

" Here. "
Mobius held a disk in his fingers, which he handed to Sylvie. They were alone in the detective's office.
" What is it? " the young woman asked, taking the object and turning it over in her hands. She had a suspicion, but waited for an explanation.
" This is the file that contains Loki's entire life. It is a little long I warn you. "
He walked over to the large wooden desk and took from the drawer a voluminous bundle of papers. It was probably hundreds of pages and he laid it down in front of Sylvie so she could see it better.
" There is also everything transcribed word for word. Every single thing that was said, from the first wail to the last syllable before we set foot in here. " he said, taking the first page and turning it over in his hands. " He talks a lot anyway. "
Sylvie shook her head and raised the disk to her eye level. " Can you tell what I should do with it? "
Mobius frowned questioningly. " Well, look at it for example. "
Sylvie huffed and threw the object badly on the desk.
" Thank you, but I don't need it. "
" You should see it instead. " Mobius insisted, moving the disk toward her with two fingers. “ Before you decide to live with someone you should at least get to know them. "
The young goddess placed her palms on the table and thinned her gaze, very serious. " I already know him, thank you very much for your interest. " she hissed sarcastically.
Mobius was unfazed by that look. She was stubborn and reckless, but not a pushover.
" I'm afraid you don't know anything about him. "
The detective left the desk to stand in front of her. He towered over her with his height, but she was not at all intimidated.
" You're about to walk away with a guy who is capable of putting a pretty face in front of you while stabbing you in the heart. He had no mercy when he killed thousands of people in New York. "
Sylvie swallowed. Why was he saying those things to her?
" What are your real intentions? Because if you think you're going to change my mind, you're very wrong. "
Mobius shortened his distance and looked around circumspectly, as if the person directly concerned was hiding in the shadows.
" As much as I consider Loki a friend, he is still someone who has caused unspeakable suffering to everyone close to him. Here at TVA I can keep an eye on him, take away his powers if necessary, but outside..." he watched Sylvie's face become tense, but the determination in her eyes was a clear demonstration that whatever he had said would never change her mind.
He sighed and ran a hand through his graying hair. " I can't protect you, okay? I can only tell you to be careful. "
" If he had wanted to kill me, he would have already done so. I eliminated He Who Remains only because he did not have the courage to kill me. He preferred the end of the universe so as not to hurt me, and that is more than enough for me to trust him."
Mobius opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out. He would have preferred that she stay there with him, safe.
" All right. Let me just give you this."
From his inner jacket pocket he pulled out his personal tempad. " It is set to open a portal directly to the TVA."
Sylvie took the object and looked away. She was disappointed by his lack of confidence, disappointed because he still saw him as a dangerous criminal.
" Don't hesitate to use it. " the detective concluded in a calm tone. He wanted to reassure her, but he was actually addressed more to himself. He had to convince himself that everything would be all right. He had to.
Sylvie put the object in her pocket, but did not nod or promise that she would use it. She knew there would be no need.
" Goodbye Sylvie, take care. "

Chapter Text

With a flick of his boot, Loki extinguished the last embers. The warmth of the fire gave a warm, almost cozy atmosphere. Now, however, the cold and darkness took over.
In the few months they spent together in that desolate cabin they ascertained that their favorite time of day was in the evening. When the snow fell slowly and quietly outside, covering trees and ground, making everything muffled it seemed that time suddenly slowed down.
It became easy to curl up in front of the fireplace and talk. Yes because that was what they most found themselves doing during the day: talking. They had centuries of things to tell each other.
He realized that he was already missing those moments terribly.
He frowned and put his hood back on.
There was no time for sentimentality; it was time to leave again.
Leaving the cave they went deeper down an untrodden path. The snow was less deep and they could see a few small dry shrubs trying to creep through the icy cover.
They followed the course of the river until they came to a rock wall. Above this wall the immense palace of King Laufey began to loom.
The path was over, and Sylvie wondered if they had taken a wrong turn.
" Here we go. " said Loki apathetically, without showing the slightest emotion.
" Here we are...where?" she asked looking at him questioningly.
Loki gave her no explanation and approached the rock face. He placed one foot on an indentation and began to climb. Sylvie did not ask any questions. He would not answer her anyway. With a sigh she simply followed him, resting her hands and feet exactly where he rested them.
They climbed for a piece and Sylvie tried hard not to look down. They were high enough that a fall into a rough, rushing river there would kill them instantly.
The wind was getting stronger with every meter they got up and she was sure it would throw her off balance.
Why had she not stayed at home as Loki had suggested?
" Let's go in here. " Loki forced his arms up and into a rocky burrow. He was not tall enough to stand so they had to continue on their knees.
" But how do you know about this hidden entrance? " asked Sylvie as she crawled behind him. She understood that they could not use the main entrance, but she did not imagine such a burrow hidden in a recess on a godforsaken rock face.
Loki continued in silence, as if he had not even heard the question.
Jotunheim had long been studied and discussed in the war councils chaired by Odin. Loki patiently listened to father and son discuss the fate of that hostile and difficult kingdom, leaning the former toward diplomacy and the latter toward brute force.
What they did not know was that Loki had long advocated another kind of strategy: cunning. Before fighting an enemy one must know him. Know their habits, their weaknesses, their ideals and what they hate.
By deception he had tricked and obtained valuable information from travelers and wayfarers in the worst inns lost throughout the Nine Kingdoms, until he had uncovered every single secret burrow and passageway that would lead them into the bowels of the palace, thus attacking them by surprise.
That was how he had escaped Heimdall's eyes the first time he had approached Laufey to make a pact of blood and vengeance. The king of Jotunheim had looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and satisfaction, wondering what could drive the young son of Odin to turn against his own house.
" Why I did it is none of your business. " he told him, holding his gaze up and proud. He could not waver before that terrible people. The slightest hint of fear and they would have slaughtered him without a second thought. " Do you accept my pact? I will not ask you a second time."
Laufey had licked his lips and showed a set of sharp teeth with a smile. " You have a lot of nerve showing up here alone and addressing me in that tone, you Asgardian brat."
Loki stiffened, but he weighed well the words to address him. He knew where to hit him. " The brat can take you into Asgard without anyone, not even Heimdall, being able to see you. You may be strong, but without me you can never catch Odin." he said with a grin.
Laufey got up from his seat and took a knife with which he made a deep cut in his right palm.
" This is a blood pact. Violate it and I swear to you that what I will do to you will be such blinding and violent pain that you will beg for death in a loud voice."
Loki did not remove the smile from his lips and took a knife with which he also carved his right palm. He let the blood fall on the snow and sealed that much-desired agreement.
" My part I am willing to carry out. You prepare your best men and see that you do not fail. "
Laufey instead of getting angry or indignant at the insolence directed at him burst into a guttural laugh that echoed through the ice walls making it even more dismal. " Your disposition is more Jotun-like than Asgardian. Odin will be pleased to discover that his precious son is a traitor."
Loki merely turned his back on him and walked away. His nerves were tense, his fists clenched along his sides, and the intense burning in his hand screamed that he had done something idiotic.
But it was too late now.

Sylvie continued to follow him, asking a thousand questions that, she knew, would never be answered as he reached inside a puddle deep enough to reach his wrist with one hand. She shook her hand to remove residual water and mud and muttered a few expletives between her teeth.
After a walk, or rather, a crawl that seemed never-ending Loki came to a sudden halt and Sylvie ran into it. She glanced over the god's shoulder to see something and saw only a faint light and a grate.
Gingerly Loki pulled the grating off and placed it on the ground, then stepped out of the burrow. Sylvie did the same and once out she found herself in a dismal corridor lit only by faint flames placed on the walls too far apart to give decent illumination.
The flame only half illuminated Loki's face.
" This way. " he took her by the arm and they ran down the corridor until they slipped into a recess and leaned their backs against the wall. Loki held his breath as he looked out to see if anyone was coming.
" Can you explain to me what we are doing? " whispered Sylvie annoyed. She hated not knowing what she was doing and hated even more following someone to unknown places. She trusted Loki enough to follow him, but not enough to not ask any questions or obey without question.
Therefore she stood with her arms crossed, back straight, and looked into the green eyes of the god of Mischief. " Loki, I want an explanation. Now. "
" Listen-we are in the dungeon of the royal palace. We have to find two guards and take their appearance. We have to make sure no one finds their bodies. We have to be quick, because if they alert everyone, we are finished. "
Sylvie shook her head. " I understood that. I want to know why we are here. "
The girl saw the god of Mischief stiffen and recognized in the way he tightened his lips a certain discomfort. Like her, he did not like to show himself openly. But she wasn't going to move without some sort of explanation as to why they were headed there in the first place. She had to understand, know and, above all, trust.
"We entered by the only burrow not marked on the maps. No one knows the entrance except, well, except me." said Loki, lowering his voice. " Something is happening the moment I was born, but to figure out what, we have to find the queen's chambers."
Sylvie abandoned her tense posture and loosened her arms tightly around her chest. " The...queen? " she asked with a huff.
The queen of Jotunheim was their biological mother, the figure who most of all was shrouded in a black veil of mystery. What had happened after their birth? Had she died to save them or had she followed her husband in their tragic abandonment?
Suddenly she felt her heart begin to hammer in her chest. Loki's expression was absolutely neutral, as if it did not touch him in the least. Or so it seemed.
In the distance the heavy footsteps of someone lazily approaching forced the two gods to crouch behind the wall and wait.
Perhaps they did not even have to set out to find the famous guards.
They could hear their bored and monotonous chattering, tired of the long patrol and looking forward to some good mead in the company of some wench who would cheer them up.
Loki and Sylvie, hiding in the shadows, unsheathed their daggers at the same time and waited patiently for the two guards to pass them.
Once they ascertained the perfect line of action they launched themselves out of the recess silently. Sylvie stunned the guard with a sharp blow before plunging the dagger through the heart as Loki moved with a speed and grace that only those trained by the Nine Kingdoms' best guard leader could execute.
The blow was clean, precise, and silent, and the dagger pierced his neck from side to side without the latter even noticing.
They locked the bodies behind a door that Loki sealed with a spell.
They took the guise of guards and could not help but look at each other.
Both of them were definitely much taller than before, their dark blue skin was wrapped in mighty armor. The grooves on the skin followed different patterns because each Jotun has its own design. But what troubled both of them most were the blood-red eyes.
They immediately looked away from each other.
Without speaking they walked toward the road the guards had taken earlier. Sylvie followed because she had no idea where they were, while Loki knew all too well how to move.
Strange. She thought. How does he know where to go? He seems to have been there before.
They walked out of the dungeon and up a flight of stairs made of winding stone.
Through the small slits they could see nothing but snow falling thickly.
They climbed until they came to a large doorway, which they opened.
There was a large hall, cold and empty. There was no one there, only muffled noises coming from the opposite side behind a stone archway that led who knows where.
It was the banquet hall where the Jotuns celebrated their battles in a way the Æsir had always found revolting. There was no such thing as sharing victory with comrades, drinking, singing, and eating.
For the Jotuns, it was a sacred time when if someone did not rise to the occasion on the battlefield they were slaughtered in front of everyone, along with their wives and children. It was not permissible to return unharmed from a battle, and the price of blood not shed in war for the king had to be paid with the life of the soldier and family, even if the
children were only infants.
Spilled blood was offered to the gods as a request for forgiveness for that grave affront.
An ancient practice, cruel and abhorrent.
Loki could not help but wonder how much blood had been spilled on that icy stone floor, how many children had been slaughtered for a fault that was not their own.
The hall was dark and cold, only a series of large tables of rough, rotten wood furnished it. There were no frescoes, tapestries, carpets, or fine chandeliers as was typical instead in Asgard.
The emptiness of that palace undoubtedly reflected the empty and icy soul of the king who inhabited it.
Loki noticed that someone was coming up behind them thanks to centuries of battles in which hearing was fine at every slightest suspicious noise. And the step of the one who was approaching was unmistakable.
Without a second thought he pushed Sylvie to hide behind a heavy curtain.
" What are you-"
Loki shushed her by putting a finger to his lips. They waited until the sound of footsteps became louder and louder. He was entering the great banquet hall through the stone archway.
" It's Laufey. " he whispered in the girl's ear, and she stiffened suddenly. That name gave her chills just hearing it spoken.
She barely flinched to look at the imposing and terrifying figure in front of her. He had his back to her and struck fear just glimpsing him from a distance.
He was tall, massive. His blue skin showed numerous carvings and scars from bloody battles. He wore armor made of metal and leather, and two large daggers encircled his mighty hips. A cloak of white wolf fur fell across his back.
Shortly afterwards another giant flanked the ruthless king.
" My lord, I am sorry to disturb you, but the nurse is asking for you. " He was young with a muscular and athletic build. The tribal markings on his arms and chest indicated membership in one of the noble Jotnar tribes.
Laufey shot an icy glare.
" Your wife, the queen, has given birth to your first heir. She asks to see you. " continued the young warrior cautiously, intimidated by his king's gaze.
" My heir is not that small and insignificant being. " he said coldly. " That woman was not even able to produce a worthy heir for Jotunheim. It disgusts me to have such a disgrace as a son. "
At those words Loki began to quiver with rage. He clutched with so much force the weapon he carried at his left hip that he hurt himself. Sylvie, seeing him, took his arm and squeezed it, hoping to calm him down, although she felt the same anger herself.
" Effectively he is very small for a Jotun," the warrior said apathetically. " What is your will for him, my lord? "
Laufey did not flinch. " Feed him to the wolves. At least he will be useful for something. "
The warrior made a short bow, ready to obey that ruthless and evil order without hesitation. A note of uncertainty, however, for a moment seemed to disturb the younger of the two Jotnars.
" My king, if I may intrude..."
Laufey shot him a glare and put a hand on the hilt of the dagger. " Do you dare contradict me? "
The young giant immediately corrected his shot. " Of course not, you will never allow me. Only, I could give him a more honorable end. He is still my prince. "
The terrible Giant Lord seemed to weigh those words carefully.
" Do whatever you want. Kill him, abandon him, I don't care. "
" As you wish, my lord. " he replied with another respectful bow.
Loki held back with difficulty at the usher from his hiding place and pounced on the cold-hearted being who had spawned him. The disgusting way he had called him names was intolerable. She drew part of the sword from the hilt and, licking her lips, foreboded the idea of piercing his insides a second time.
Sylvie realized his intentions just in time and managed to restrain him by taking his hand and clutching it before he committed an idiocy. If they got out their cover would have been irremedially compromised. Loki gave her a scowling look and she nodded her head no. Sylvie's red eyes quivered with anger
as much as his.
Laufey suddenly began to look around, sniffing the air. He scanned the whole room with those tremendous scarlet eyes, looking for something. Or someone.
" I smell the terrible stench of Æsir. " he hissed as he observed the room and finally lingered on the huge curtain that covered the window overlooking the improvised training yard and hiding place.
Sylvie held her breath as the king's lips parted in a devilish smile.
" Where are you hiding? " he asked, approaching dangerously at a slow pace.
Loki swallowed and mentally prepared himself for the confrontation. He turned Sylvie a glance and showed her the weapon at his side. He used his telepathic powers to speak into her mind and tell her his plan. As soon as Laufey moved the curtain, discovering them, he would throw himself on him, landing him, thus allowing Sylvie to escape.
The girl widened her eyes and glared back at him that no, she would never leave him alone against that monster.
Forget it. She could only reply with a word, still too immature in the use of telepathic powers.
He was only a few steps away from them, very close.
All he had to do was reach out his hand and then it would be the end.

Chapter Text

" My liege! "

A Giant burst breathlessly into the great banquet hall, interrupting the king. He looked distraught and clutched the mighty spear tightly.

" Two spies on the border..." he tried to catch his breath. The scarlet eyes were wide in an expression of pure horror. "...Odin is advancing with his armies! "

Laufey smiled wickedly, laying his hand on the dagger at his side, and finally moved away from the hiding place where both Loki and Sylvie were preparing to attack.

" Old Father All has come this far. " he licked his lips. " I wonder if today is the predicted day when I will finally have his head. "

On the king's lips the smug smile showed no sign of fear or dread at that surprise attack. He was satisfied. To be able to kill Odin in his own kingdom, in his own land, was the greatest form of satisfaction and glory a lord of Jotunheim could wish for.

In contrast to the young guard who had come, transfixed, to warn of the impending invasion, Laufey already looked forward to the moment when he would cut off Father All's head and, triumphant, present it on a pike to his exultant people.

He would not let such an opportunity pass him by.

" Prepare the soldiers. Today will be a glorious day for Jotunheim. "

He was imbued with a sense of omnipotence, of unparalleled pride that in some ways reminded Sylvie of Loki. The amused look, the straight and proud posture were the projection of a proud king. Without knowing it, Loki had inherited the same characteristics that would make him a haughty, proud prince who would never back down in the face of an enemy. The grin on Laufey's lips resembled all too closely the mocking smile that the god of Mischief used to wear to disguise and deceive those in front of him.  

The young soldier swallowed in the face of his lord's scarlet gaze, laden with a bloody vengeance he had been longing for too long. " As he wishes. " he said only, addressing him with a brief bow before taking his leave. Laufey followed shortly after, the hilt of his dagger clenched between his strong fingers.

When the hall was finally empty they came out of hiding and breathed a sigh of relief.

" It was a close call for that unclean being to discover us. " said Sylvie. " To think that he is my father disgusts me. "

Sylvie, unlike Loki, had always known she was adopted. She loved her parents, but the idea of getting to know her biological parents was something she had always yearned to be able to do.

Only when the Frost Giants invaded her kingdom and claimed her as their own did she understand why her father would not tell them anything about her true origins. He only wanted to protect her from a brutal, sadistic, and evil people.

" He is not our father. " Loki replied in a tone as flat, apathetic, and icy as the realm they were in.

There was so much he was beginning to understand.

The pain of knowing that his parents and all of Asgard had lied to him for a lifetime was still there, alive and searing, like a brand that burned whenever his mind dwelt on it. Yet he was beginning to realize that perhaps they were only protecting him after all.

He would die in solitude, forgotten by everyone.

He hated Odin, hated him with all of himself for never treating him as his blood son, preferring Thor in everything. The sense of inferiority still haunted him, ranging from disappointment to anger.

But in that moment, as he watched those who had begotten him leave, he began to wonder who he should really hate.

Who had abandoned him or who had taken him in?

They walked out of the banquet hall and down an outer corridor that gave onto the building's inner training ground.

There was a great bustle of people running to get their weapons, those yelling to hurry up and those asking, loudly, what was going on.

Loki and Sylvie had been stopped several times by various soldiers who were partly telling them what to do and partly nudging them to go faster.

Between cleverly invented excuses and quick, stealthy movements with which they could easily sneak away, they finally found themselves in an empty hallway away from the hustle and bustle.

They both took a big breath and started down the street, hoping to find some clue that would lead them to their destination.

" Hey, you two! "

Loki and Sylvie froze. The voice, deep and guttural, came from behind them.

" By the old gods and the new gods, what more is there? " hissed Loki between his teeth in anger. They were testing his already precarious patience.

" Hey I say to you! What are you doing here?"

Loki turned around and reserved a terrible glare for him. " I know, Odin attacked, we understood that. Now, if you'll excuse us, we should go. "

" The battle is on the other side. " the giant said sharply, pointing to the part of the corridor behind his back.

Loki smiled and assumed one of his best attitudes when it came to manipulating someone.

" We were actually sent to defend the inner rooms of the palace. We are to control the dining room and the king and queen's private rooms. " he said using one of the most mellifluous tones he knew how to adopt. The Jotuns were known more for their brute strength than their intelligence, so Loki hoped this would be enough to let them go.

But the soldier thinned his scarlet gaze.

" Who ordered you to go? "

More cunning than expected. Thought the god of Mischief.

" It was..." Loki swallowed not knowing what to answer. Promptly Sylvie leapt forward and touched the guard's temple with two fingers. His gaze became astonished for a few seconds then he widened his eyes as if a memory had just come to him.

"Of course, I remember now. You have been ordered to protect the queen. Go, she will need you. "

" Where is she now? " Sylvie asked, touching him again to manipulate him.

" At the end of the corridor turn right. Follow the stairs until you reach the highest part of the palace. There you will find the queen safe in her chambers. "

When he left the corridor both gave a liberating sigh and hurried to follow the directions they had just received.

Loki knew Laufey's palace well because they had studied its details at length in their war councils. The maps that the god of Mischief had managed to obtain through deception and betting-even through outright theft if necessary-were a crucial aid for Odin's army in devising an initial strategy.

Knowing the enemy was the first step in stopping them in case of a future attack. If they had even a suspicion that Laufey wanted to attack them, severing the weak peace treaty they had signed, they would attack the kingdom of the Frost Giants straight to their hearts.

Every secret passage, every weak point was well imprinted in Loki's mind.

That is why it was easy for him to disentangle himself from that maze of bare corridors all alike.

When they reached the highest part of the palace, they saw two guards standing still in front of a large wooden gate. Torches placed on either side of the entrance illuminated the serious faces of the Giants.

No doubt those were the queen's private rooms.

They saw two young handmaids approaching the doors, and the guards defending the entrance let them pass by moving just enough to give them the space they needed. They also tried to do the same, but the two mighty spears immediately closed in front of them, blocking the entrance.

"What do you think you are doing? No one is allowed to enter the queen's chambers without her invitation. "

Loki smiled. " Of course, you are right. I just thought I'd make sure everything was going well."

" Go back to your seat, soldier. You're not allowed in," growled the guard.

" We were sent to check that-"

" Did you hear him? He told you to leave." bellowed the other Giant, moving a step toward them menacingly. He was ready to use the spear without letting it be repeated twice.

Sylvie stepped in before things could get any worse. " We're leaving right now. We were wrong, we were supposed to check the gardens! " she said and grabbed Loki by the arm, dragging him away until he turned the corner.

Loki thinned his gaze. " There are no gardens in Joutunheim. It's all ice! " he scolded her in a low voice. " Why did you take me away? It would take me a second to knock them out! "

Sylvie rolled her eyes. " And then I would be the one acting on impulse. If they see guards on the ground they'll all go on high alert and it will be impossible to get out of here! "

The god of Mischief was surprised that Sylvie was the one who had made him desist from an unplanned attack. She who acted without thinking, who had caused the worst possible and imaginable messes just because she had not stopped to think.

He who, on the other hand, had always been meticulous, careful and studious about everything around him to think about the best thing to do had gotten caught up in the impulse of the moment.

The fact was that he was terribly agitated. He was trying to conceal a fear due to what would be presented to him beyond the door. He didn't care about the guards. He just wanted to get in, to remove every obstacle in his path.

" We have to think of something to get past those two big guys," Sylvie's voice brought him back to reality.

He had to think. Quickly, too.

He saw the two handmaids coming out and immediately an idea crossed his mind. He smiled smugly and gave Sylvie a mischievous look.

" I know how to pass." he said and, with a snap of his fingers, his appearance changed. He transformed from a barbaric warrior into a Frost Giantess. She was tall, slender, with a well-pronounced form, and her long, night-black hair was beautifully braided with strands of gold. The red eyes looked like two rubies.

Sylvie gasped.

What the hell?

Loki smiled at her, and she was captivated by the way she looked at her. She was gorgeous, which left her quite stunned. Never had she thought that Jotuns could be so beautiful. She was convinced they were just terrifying monsters.

" What are you doing? " she whispered, puzzled, not understanding what she was trying to do.

" Wait and see," Loki replied mischievously.

He came out of hiding and walked toward the guards sensually. Sylvie noted that he was wearing clothes that were a little too skimpy and a little too transparent.

The usual exhibitionist, she thought with a snort.

The guards immediately noticed the presence of the Giantess and stared at her open-mouthed.

" What is such a beauty doing here alone? " one of them asked, unable to take his eyes off her form. Loki approached and assumed a sweet, innocent air.

" I think...I'm lost. " she chirped. " Perhaps you can help me find my way? " she said putting a finger to her lips, and the guards smiled.

" Certainly. We will gladly accompany you. " said one of the two, casting a slimy look of understanding at his friend.

" Oh, how kind you are. I'll know how to thank you." She said in a sensual whisper in his ear, and the guard shivered.

Loki flinched and signaled for them to follow him, which they immediately did and led them into a closet a little further on. There were a couple of dull thuds and Loki went out, closing the door behind him, which he promptly sealed.

He was back to his former appearance, and Sylvie noticed in Silver Tongue's smug look that he did not mind his acting at all.

" Problem solved. " he said with a mocking smile.

" That's the sleaziest thing I've ever seen. " she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

" It worked, though, " he replied placidly. " Years of practice at taking Lady Sif's appearance paid off. "

With a snap of his fingers he took on the guise of the handmaiden who had left just before and invited Sylvie to do the same.

The room did not reflect the rest of the building at all. It could almost be called pretty.

The Jotuns cared little about aesthetics; all that mattered to them was functionality.

Instead, the room even featured decorations. The four-poster bed had carvings that embellished its appearance. The draperies were a scarlet red to match the curtains.

"There you are. Did you get everything? "

Behind the door of a large closet terminated a female figure. And it did not take long to realize that she was the queen.

She was tall and slender and her skin color was an almost grayish blue, but what was most striking of all was her face. The features were beautiful, sweet, nothing like the square, sharp face typical of the race.

She wore a blue velvet dress that perfectly wrapped her feminine form, and her long silvery hair was decorated with pearls and precious stones. An ice crown completed her regal appearance.

Loki held back a gasp. This was the first time he had seen his mother, his real mother.

He had not been allowed to know anything about her, not even what she looked like. Only the name had once escaped Frigga's lips, in an almost inaudible whisper, after Loki's numerous insistence that he at least had the right to know who his biological parents were.

Fàrbauti.

Her name had come out as if it had been held in his gut for too long. And perhaps it had. Revealing his biological mother's name would have made Frigga a little less his mother.

" Majesty, we have everything," said Loki.

" Excellent. Soon darkness will fall and it will be the right time to leave."

Loki took a step forward. " Leave for where? I regret to tell you that I may have forgotten some details about what we need to do."

Loki was very good at acting, Sylvie had to admit. He really looked like the graceful, fearful handmaiden he was impersonating.

" I don't blame you, Kari. I came up with this plan too quickly."

The queen reached out to Loki and took his hands between hers. They looked warm.

" King Laufey rejected our son because he does not reflect the appearance of a Jotun. He was born too small and puny and brought shame and disgrace on the royal lineage."

Loki swallowed with difficulty.

" A message was delivered warning me that Odin would attack this very night and that I should flee to the north. "

" A message from whom?" asked Sylvie.

" The letter has no sender. " said the queen as she approached the cabinet drawer on which a large mirror was lying and pulled out a letter, which she handed to the handmaiden whose appearance Sylvie had copied.

Loki took the letter and looked at it carefully. The handwriting was elegant and precise, with no smudges on the parchment that could only belong to someone who had been highly educated. He reread and reread those lines again, dwelling on the style of writing that reminded him terribly of his own.

" Do you trust even though you do not know to whom this message belongs? " the deceiver asked without looking away from the letter.

Fàrbauti intertwined his fingers and assumed a straight, regal posture. In the red eyes flashed a determination that Sylvie immediately recognized as the same as Loki's.

" I want to save my son, and if I have to trust a stranger to do it, I will do it," she sentenced with a firmness that left the two pretend handmaids speechless.

Loki could not take his eyes off his birth mother as he reached the cradle. He wondered if it was all an illusion, a pretense created on purpose by someone to make him believe that everything he had always been convinced of had never existed.

The Norns were weaving and plotting in his web of fate, altering, cutting and adding what they liked to see happen in an individual's life. The time had come for Loki of Asgard to face what he had long sought to escape from.

He had hated her from the first moment he learned of her true origins. A hatred even more intense and visceral than the one he felt for Laufey.

How could a mother abandon her child? How could she get rid of her own blood like that? Questions that would remain only within herself without ever having a chance to be answered.

Until now.

" She is trusting a perfect stranger, someone she has never seen. " whispered the god of Mischief in Sylvie's ear.

" She is trying to save you. She is desperate. " she replied, feeling a knot in her throat and watching as the queen took care of her son.

Loki took Sylvie by the arm and forced her to look at him. " If I am not abandoned Odin will never find me. And if he does not find me none of the things that lead me to be here at this exact moment will happen. My timeline will be irreparably compromised."

They both turned toward the queen as the latter cradled the infant.

" We must prevent this from happening."

Sylvie reduced the distance between them and lowered her voice. " And what do you want to do? Take the infant away from her and leave? She will never let you do that."

She sensed Fàrbauti's love for her son. She could see it in the way she cradled him and smiled at him. How could they take that away from her? That would have been cruel.

Loki sighed and barely brushed her cheek with his thumb. He lowered his gaze for a brief moment, just enough to think.

He turned away and approached the queen at a slow pace.

Sylvie felt her heart speed up sensing from his eyes that he was up to something.

" My queen. Why don't you give the child to me? I will take care of it, protect it."

Farbauti placed the infant in the cradle now that he had fallen asleep.

" I cannot, dear my little Kari. I must protect him personally." with a finger she stroked the little one's hand. " We will escape this very night and go away, far away. So far away that Laufey will not be able to harm us."

Loki looked into the cradle and seeing himself so small and helpless had a strange effect on him.

" Majesty, do you love him? " he asked, not taking his eyes off the infant.

" More than anything else. I would give my life if necessary."

Loki closed his eyes as the dagger penetrated Farbauti's abdomen. Blood began to flow copiously and wet his hand.

" I'm sorry." he barely whispered.

Sylvie stifled a cry with her hands as she watched in horror as the dagger plunged into the queen's body.

Fàrbauti's eyes filled with tears and she opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

She slumped to the floor and did not move again.

Loki took the infant from the cradle and wrapped him in a blanket.

" Sylvie, come on there is no time to lose. Odin is about to attack!"

A roar suddenly burst through the window.

Loki looked out and saw the Asgardian army attacking the main entrance.

They heard echoing in the hallway the footsteps and shouts of soldiers running in every direction.

Sylvie was petrified, her eyes fixed on the queen lying in a pool of blood.

"Gods, will you move! Run!" Loki took her by the arm and roused her from the catatonic state she had fallen into.

There was no longer any guard around the palace; everyone had poured outside where a bloody battle had begun. They resumed their original appearance; it was now useless to disguise themselves.

They had to reach the temple located just outside the palace walls, there where the final battle between Odin and Laufey would come and where Loki would be found.

They had to run between the soldiers of both armies, avoid arrows and sword blows until they could hide behind the imposing columns of the temple.

They were both panting, exhausted from the long run. They made sure the child was all right and had not suffered any wounds.

They passed through the entrance to the huge sacred place, and their footsteps echoed, giving the place an even more mournful appearance. There was nothing to illuminate it, only the moonlight filtering through the windows.

Apart from the candelabras and statues of ancient deities placed on the sides, there was nothing but an altar placed at the top of a flight of steps.

Loki laid the child on the bare stone and covered him. At least a minimal gesture of comfort for what he was suffering.

" You killed her."

Sylvie said those words dismissively, angrily. Loki could feel her gaze piercing him in the back.

" I had to. She would never leave him."

He did not turn to look at her. To do so was to see yet another look of hatred directed at him. But Sylvie's would never be able to bear it.

" You haven't changed at all.  You always tell me that you no longer want to be called a god of Mischief, yet you are always ready to drive a blade into the hearts of those who trust you."

Loki felt himself quivering with anger. He could not accept those words. With a couple of strides he reduced the distance between them. He stared at her with his piercing eyes, and Sylvie struggled not to flinch.

" Am I wrong or did I tell you not to get involved in this? " the grave tone made it even more threatening. " You wanted to follow me and do it my way and now you're complaining?  What did you expect Jotunheim to be, a playground for little princesses like you?"

Sylvie widened her eyes in amazement. He had never addressed her in such a dismissive tone. He wanted to deliberately hurt her.

Sylvie confronted him and to do so reduced the distance between their faces by a few inches.

" And what will you do when I get in your way? Will you stick a blade in my back when I least expect it? "

Would he really be able to do that? Now she had doubt. He had killed his mother with a sharp, decisive blow without hesitation. Who was going to assure her that it would not happen with her as well?

Mobius was damn right. She had to see that damn file, read his file because now she had no idea who the man in front of her was.

Loki lowered his voice. " If you think I can do that to you, then go away. Go home and leave me alone. "

" Why do you and I always have a different view of things? " she said with a sigh.

" Because you are incapable of trusting anyone, and I cannot be trusted. "

Sylvie shook her head.

" I just want to...why?"

" She was going to die anyway! " he shouted and his voice echoed throughout the temple. The flapping of wings of frightened crows sounded like a gloomy omen.

" Odin's soldiers would have slaughtered her without any mercy. At least I spared her the shame of dying at the hands of the Æsir. " he said in a tone so icy as to leave her speechless.

" Aren't you tired of living like this? " she asked bitterly. She felt that she was losing control of the situation, that she no longer knew what to do. " Because I am. I am tired of death, suffering and blood."

" Suffering will always be a part of us. We were born for it, it's in our nature. " he said apathetically.

How could things be different now if all along what had permeated his life was the same script long since written? A script that repeated itself endlessly, playing, cruelly, with his life and the lives of those around him.

Loki of Asgard had tried to trust, in ways so rare and sporadic that they soon ended in oblivion. He had tried to give something of himself, a fragment of his trust to those he thought deserved it, but he had always been disappointed, crushed, trampled.

And his fragments soon became invisible dust of which no one would ever ascertain the form, much less the essence.

Then came Sylvie who, so painfully like him, took that essence and transformed it into something new. The only one to whom he was able to give something more of his being and not just the crumbs of a life of deception and chaos.

He had told her he trusted her one night when he smiled sincerely, dipping his tapered fingers into her blond hair. " I want to at least try. " he said in a low voice.

Although Sylvie did not respond, Loki did not care. He wanted to let her know. He would then wait patiently when Sylvie would also trust him completely.

" You can choose to be someone other than what you have always been made out to be."

Loki was struck by those words as if they were blades sticking straight to his chest. He had wanted to be something different, something better. Instead, he ended up always being the same. A selfish man ready to ruthlessly eliminate those who stood in his way.

" She means nothing to me. " he continued in a low voice. He clenched his fists until his knuckles whitened.

" She was your mother, Loki. She loved you. " she murmured weakly, disappointed.

" She is not my mother, get that straight in your head. The only mother I had is in Asgard. " he hissed. " Do you see me as a real monster? Because that's the same look everyone had when they looked at me. "

Sylvie listened to those harshly spoken words, but her eyes said something else entirely. They were veiled with a sadness that she could not hide.

Sylvie did not know what to say. One thing, however, she understood: the god of Mischief had failed to fool her this time.

He was becoming an open book for her, and this Loki knew. He was becoming predictable and vulnerable.

Did it bother him? Terribly, but maybe he was realizing that if you loved someone then your most fragile part would be irretrievably exposed.

Loki passed her, and Sylvie simply stared at his back.

Behind her was the newborn, innocent, guileless Loki pawing at her to receive some warmth. In front was the cynical and cruel Loki, capable of killing someone in cold blood just because they got in the way of his plans.

She understood why Asgard had disowned him, but she was also convinced that the same Asgard that so detested him was also the one that had made him that way.

" Are you going to stay there much longer? The child will not die if that is what you are worried about. " Loki said, turning just barely, just to see the girl out of the corner of his eye.

" I..."

Suddenly the immense temple gate opened with a thud. They wasted no time and hid behind the statue of the giant Ymir, founder of Jotunheim.

Odin advanced with all the pride that only the invincible father of the gods could have. His armor still shone despite the bruises and blood of his enemies.

Beside him was the trusted chief of the guards Björnúlfr and his son.

" Father of the gods, what are we doing here?" asked Björnúlfr. " There is no one here. Jotunheim has surrendered. Let us return to Asgard. "

Odin did not listen and advanced at a brisk pace.

He knew someone was there. He could feel it.

And indeed, wrapped in a white blanket, a blue-skinned infant was desperately calling for someone's attention.

Odin took him in his hands and...smiled.

Loki, hiding behind the statue, gasped.

Why was he smiling? Why was he seeing in the gaze of the man he hated most of all, that of a father? And not the father of all gods, but his father.

" Majesty, what is an infant doing here?" asked the son of the chief of the guards.

" This is Laufey's son. He has been abandoned. " 

Björnúlfr drew a dagger from his belt. " It would be an act of mercy to kill him with a sharp blow, without letting him die of hardship. "

Loki observed the man with the dagger in his hand and a haughty look. He was still the same, proud and proud, dedicated to war and to making Asgard a glorious kingdom. He wore the long blond beard gathered into a braid that, as a child, he pulled out of spite.

Odin's second son used to get into trouble, escaping from the palace using secret passages that only he knew. Björnúlfr always ended up with the thankless task of looking for him and bringing him back. So Loki had learned to hide and to watch amusedly as the man huffed and cursed him. When he found him hiding in some narrow place, he never failed to rebuke him and load him on his shoulder, amid his kicks and punches and futile attempts to escape his firm grip.

Unable to break free from his grip, Loki always ended up trying to undo his braid, the warrior's personal pride.

Despite his many reprimands and long talks about discipline, Björnúlfr had grown fond of the little pest that made him huff and curse every day. He remembered the first time he took him to the battlefield, his helmet too big and sword too heavy, stumbling to keep up with the others. It reminded him more and more of his younger self as he watched him grow up, as proud and invincible as any young Æsir before facing real life. He had never had children, Björnúlfr. He was loyal to war and his vow to the kings to protect his land. 

" Go to Hel, accursed one. And may you suffer the worst. " he told him with fierce contempt when he returned to Asgard after his crimes on Midgard.

" After you. " Loki answered him with a mocking, swaggering smile.

They had to hold Björnúlfr in threes to prevent him from pouncing on him and his fist smashing his cheekbone.

That was the last time he saw him.

" No. The child will come with me. Put that dagger away. "

Odin extended a hand toward Björnúlfr to dissuade him from using the weapon against the infant.

" Majesty, you are joking, aren't you? We cannot bring this monster to Asgard. " The soldier's gaze was full of contempt.

" Wouldn't we be equal to Laufey if we killed him? Is it not to stop the cruelty of this ice people that we intervened? " Odin gave him a weary look, but still as proud and proud as any Æsir in battle. " If you are capable of staining your hands with the blood of a child then do it, I will not stop you. But you will live with such guilt that you will not be able to bear it for long. "

Björnúlfr could not contradict what his king had said. He would never have been able to kill an infant in cold blood, even if it was the child of his most bitter enemy. It would have been something vile, shameful, and would have worn down his honor as a valiant warrior. He had taken an oath to help the weakest, not to slaughter them. Hesitantly, he lowered his gaze to the little one and asked him what they should do now.

" No one is to know of his true identity. This is an order from the ruler himself. " he said, taking him and clutching him to his chest to give him just enough warmth so that he would not die from the frost outside.

The soldiers exchanged looks full of concern, but no one dared to contradict him. This was a truly terrible idea, they thought. To bring a Jotun to Asgard was something abominable to even think about.

Loki could not help but notice how Odin was holding him. It was a gesture of love mixed with compassion and pity, a gesture he did not think he could reserve for him.

He, his father, who barely gave him a few sporadic looks of approval, so sweaty and never fully appreciated.

He, who gave Thor Mjollnir while Loki nothing at all.

Always he, who took him to the trophy room to remind him that he was born to be king, but who on the Bifrost, before letting go, assured him that never would a Frost Giant take the throne of Asgard.

AllFather smiled at the infant he clutched to his leather armor and with his free hand adjusted the blanket as best he could. Then he led the way out of the temple first, followed by his loyal soldiers.

" Odin doesn't seem so terrible. " whispered Sylvie as she saw them move away. She just could not see in it the rot that Loki kept instead, undaunted, emphasizing and remarking. She saw nothing in it but a man, strong warrior and mighty king, moved to pity for a helpless being. She could find no trace of the resentment that the god of Mischief loudly promoted.

Loki thinned his gaze. " Don't you dare. "

" Well, if it weren't for him those soldiers would have plunged the dagger right into your heart. "

" He was good at lying. " he said cuttingly. " I learned from the best after all. "

Once outside, the ground was no longer covered by a soft blanket of snow, but by a multitude of corpses.

In the distance Odin's remaining army was leaving the realm using the Bifröst.

Loki did not look away until the last of the warriors also disappeared.

Now only the two of them were left in the desolate land of ice.

The darkness of the night made it difficult to see beyond a certain distance, and the strong icy wind complicated matters even more.

The tempad was constantly spinning in Loki's hands, as if it had been boiling. He was thoughtful, hesitant, and Sylvie immediately noticed that something was wrong. She looked in the same direction as him, too, but saw nothing.

The god of Mischief was rigid. His alert senses, as well as his every fiber, were ready to snap.

He had a strange feeling.

He sensed with seidr that something was wrong.

But what?

When he had finished turning over the tempad he opened a new portal.

A new destination and a new date had been selected.

The moment he was about to step through the portal, he felt a chill down his spine.

Not a chill, but a shiver of anguish.

He turned around sharply.

There, in the midst of the storm, he swore he saw someone watching him.

" What's the matter with you? " asked Sylvie, observing the spot Loki was staring at.

The god of Mischief tried to focus.

Someone was watching him, he was certain.

The more he tried to find someone, the more he realized that someone did not exist.

Could it be that he had been mistaken?

" Nothing. " he said hastily, barely turning toward the woman.

Sylvie was worried, her beautiful green eyes wondering what was so bad that he was keeping it from her.

" I thought I saw something. I was wrong. " he said, thus answering her question.

Sylvie barely nodded, not entirely convinced by his words. She headed toward the orange portal as Loki told her that he had changed the place and date.

The woman waited for him to approach and go through the portal first. She already imagined where he would take her.

Loki sighed and wondered if he was doing the right thing.

There was one more thing he had to do.

For himself.

***

Frigga jumped up from her chair when she heard the door open. She had waited all night for the fate of her beloved king and prayed to the gods that once again they would be merciful and let him return to her.

The imposing figure of her valiant husband made his entrance wearily. The weight of a long battle and the responsibilities of ruler weighed more and more heavily on his ancient shoulders.

He welcomed with a sigh the embrace of his faithful wife, life companion and supporting part of his heavy burden. Usually Frigga would follow him to war, as any valiant Æsir wife would by her husband's side, but with his newly born firstborn son it was safer for him to remain safe within the palace walls.

" I feared for your life, dear husband. " she said after loosening the long embrace. " I have long prayed that the Norns would be merciful in weaving the plot of this war. "

Frigga was always looking for a way to stay close to him. If she could not physically at least she tried with her heart and mind.

Odin mentally thanked his young wife for her thoughtfulness. Without her he would not have been able to bear all that weight on his own without collapsing.

Theirs had been an arranged marriage, intended to unite two noble and powerful lineages. But despite the fact that they had not chosen each other they had learned to respect, trust and love each other.

A faint, barely audible moan emerged from the bundle under the tunic.

Frigga's eyes went wide and she brought a hand to her mouth when he showed her what he held close to his heart.

The tiny infant had just woken up and, squinting, stretched out his tiny hands for a handhold.

The queen's heart lost a beat as a first thought made its way into her mind. Could her beloved husband have been unfaithful to her?

After all, numerous wars had taken him far from home, from her.

She imagined the woman who had comforted her king's strong limbs in the night and felt the urge to flee.

Odin, however, farsighted as he was, immediately noticed the veil of sadness that shrouded Frigga's blue eyes.

He caressed the warm cheek in a comforting gesture.

" It is not what you think, my lady. I have not been unfaithful to you. " he said quietly.

Frigga shifted her gaze away from him so as not to give him a chance to see her pain.

" If it is not the result of your unfaithfulness, then what is it? " The queen's always loving and gentle tone gave way to anger and contempt.

" A child abandoned to die in the ice. "

Frigga widened her eyes in surprise. She turned back to look at her husband and read in his eyes a certain concern.

" Laufey has no mercy for anyone, not even his own blood. "

The baby began a series of grimaces that would surely have turned into desperate crying if the queen had not taken him gently into her arms, He was cold, tiny. She held him as if at any moment he would break into a thousand pieces,

" To bring a Jotun here is foolish, reckless. " said the woman without stopping cradling him.

" A foolish opportunity. "

Odin finally put down the mighty spear and removed his helmet, dented in places.

The truth was that before the possible opportunity to end a war that had lasted too long, he had seen in that child only a helpless being to be saved.

"He will be my protégé. He will grow up here, in the palace, cared for by the nurses and taught by the best teachers. One day he will be the instrument that will unite our kingdoms. "

Frigga looked at the sleeping child in her arms.

 " No, he will not be just your protégé," she said without stopping to look at the little one. " If you want him to stay here he will grow up with me. He will have a mother and a brother. "

Odin remained firm. " Are you saying to raise him as your own child? Beware my queen, you may be carrying a burden you will not be able to bear. "

" You have already given me too great a burden the moment you brought him here." Frigga was determined, as she always was when she was stuck on something. Her blue eyes, sweet and warm, emitted a different light than usual, a mixture of compassion, pity and affection.

She had always been like this, Frigga Queen of the Æsir. Loving and compassionate toward anyone in need, making her a beloved ruler of her people.

" He will not grow like a trophy taken from one of your battles. " 

The queen's gentle eyes passed from Odin's tense face to the serene, sleeping face of the infant.

She had to protect him. 

At this point the valiant king, Father of the gods and protector of the Nine Kingdoms, could do nothing before that gaze that was sweet and determined at the same time. After all, he also loved her for this.

" If this is what you desire, I will not oppose it. " he said after a long sigh. " Simulate a pregnancy and then we will present him to the kingdom as our second son. "

Frigga did not miss the king's unconvinced tone. She carried the baby to the cradle and tucked the blanket over him. "Welcoming him into our home will be a new beginning."

" Or our end. " replied Odin.

" You will learn to love him as your own child. "

The king approached the cradle and, for a moment, a small flame crept into the warrior's hard heart at the sight of the little one sleeping peacefully with his fists clenched close to his head.

" What do you wish to call him? "

Frigga took a moment to think about it then smiled. " Loki. "

The god of Mischief was sitting with his back against the wall outside the large terrace overlooking the magnificent gardens of the royal court. The window kept open for the summer heat allowed Loki to hear the entire conversation. He needed to know how his mother had reacted to the sight of him, and he was happy to know that it was only because of her that he could grow up as an Odinson and not as the bastard son brought to the palace as the king's protégé. It was a detail he reflected on for the first time only at that moment. The opportunity he had been given was far more than he ever deserved, and he, like a good idiot, had managed to screw it up. In the end he had the exact same rights and privileges as his brother, a legitimate son by blood. Not only for servants in his service or free access to any wing of the palace. Loki was allowed to sit beside the king and queen when guests from other kingdoms came to offer gifts, received bows and flattery as he passed, and the opportunity to represent Odin himself on the diplomatic missions to which he fulfilled, diligently.

He recalled the first time Odin took him along to deal with some sensitive issues with Vanheim. Loki felt an indescribable pride pervade him when his father chose to bring him and not Thor.

" Strength has always been a boast of us Asgardians, but what has really made us strong is diplomacy. " he told him as they walked down the long tree-lined avenue that would lead them through the gates of that friendly and sometimes enemy kingdom. " It is time for you to learn to deal with political issues with words as well, not just with weapons. You got a big mouth, you will do a good job. "

For Loki it was the first and perhaps last compliment, if one could call it that, that he received from his proud father.

He smiled and was the first to enter the king's presence, charged with a new pride.

The Vanir king, Njord, looked first at Odin and then at his young son a little amused, a little offended.

" Do you find arguing with me so uncharitable as to bring you the second of your brats? "

Loki cashed the blow without flinching, accustomed to being seen as Thor's replacement. All the kings and nobles expected to see Odin accompanied by the firstborn, not the strange little boy who nothing seemed to have anything to do with the Æsir.

Odin rested his hand on his son's lean shoulder, as if trying to convince his interlocutor that who he had chosen to bring was the best he could offer.

" King Njord, do not underestimate Loki just because he is very young. He is with me to learn and, tomorrow, take my place. "

The young prince widened his eyes, surprised by that admission. To take his father's place? He had never told him so openly and was overjoyed to learn that he was instructing him in the very role of future king. He had been waiting for years for these words and they had finally come.

What Odin actually meant, and he would find out much later, was the fact that he wanted to make both his sons kings. Thor would yes get the throne and Gungnir, but Loki would be his right-hand man, his advisor, his strategist. They would reign together, united and strong, making Asgard even more glorious than Bor the Great did. This was what he would always envision for his children, and yet fate is sometimes cruel and weaves plots too difficult for us to understand.

AllFather would realize too late that he had ignored the signs that his son, as beloved as he was misunderstood, had given him over time. The deep sense of dissatisfaction, the growing jealousy, the emptiness into which he fell whenever he sought a modicum of his approval.

Signs went unnoticed for too much, too long, and that guilt devoured and consumed him until the end of days.

With a couple of agile moves he went down to the garden where he found Sylvie waiting for him with crossed arms, leaning against a tree

" Did you find what you wanted to know? " she asked, going to meet the man whom he found paler than usual. She could not fully understand his feelings, but she knew that, although he did not give it away, he was wearing himself out inside. She laid a hand on his face, the only weak gesture she could let go of to let him know that, whatever happened, she was there.

For a moment what happened just before seemed as if it had never been there, erased as soon as he laid his gaze in those green eyes that he found as beautiful as they were sad and melancholy. Now, however, they were tired, exasperated, charged with a wearisome despair.

It was hard to understand, the god of Mischief, but not so hard to understand of why he addressed her in that tone in the temple. The hard armor was crumbling and she had to be there to pick up the pieces, one by one, wounding herself with the sharp shards and dressing the cuts herself. 

" I think all this is too much for even you to bear. " she barely murmured.

Loki sighed and gladly accepted the woman's closeness. What would he have done if she had not been there?

He was about to say something when his sixth sense warned him that something was wrong. He saw something in the shadows and this time he made sure he understood if the presence was real and not a figment of his imagination.

He started running in its direction with Sylvie yelling at him to stop. When he reached the large tree placed in the center of the Royal Garden he saw the figure disappear into thin air.

He threw a fist against the trunk and hissed an expletive between his teeth.

" Someone is following us. " he said as soon as Sylvie stood at his side.

" Who could it be? " she asked as she caught his breath.

" I don't know, but I have a bad feeling. "

Suddenly, in the wind, he heard something.

A voice entered his mind and spoke to him using a magic that only he and his mother knew and used between them so no one would know what they wanted to say to each other.

An unfamiliar voice, but strangely familiar.

I have found you, Loki Laufeyson.

Chapter Text

That morning he wished he could have been anywhere but there.
He would have liked to finish reading that voluminous book of ancient runes that had absorbed him so much that he sacrificed hours of sleep. Or go out riding, enjoying the spring breeze. Of all the places in the Asgard kingdom he knew, boot camp was the one he hated the most. More than when he was forced to attend boring luncheons with nobles from other kingdoms and assume an attitude of a polite prince dedicated to good manners. 
The training camp made him nervous even from the moment he spotted it from afar. The rains of the previous days had made the ground a mixture of mud and dirty water, and the idea of ending up in there did not excite him one bit.
He had been the last to arrive, and the master-at-arms had not refrained from giving him a reproachful glare. " Discipline.  " he used to say. " Enemies will not stand by and wait for your convenience. "
But that morning he did everything extremely calmly. He had gone to bed very late the night before by staying hidden under the covers, with a flame created with seiðr to make himself light and finish reading what he had started in the afternoon.
The maid had knocked several times and receiving no answer entered, finding the little lord still sound asleep. She had opened the curtains in a testy manner and urged him to hurry up and wash and dress because they were waiting for him.
He ate with exasperating slowness and took the longest possible route. Anything to delay as long as possible the moment when he would pick up his weapon, ready for yet another training session. Now that it was his turn, he wondered if there was a way to escape without being seen. He felt tremendously inappropriate, unfit for that kind of discipline. He was not a warrior, although everyone expected him to be given his ancestry, but in his heart he knew he never would be.
" Straight with your back and your weapon hold it firmly in front of you. If you show uncertainty the enemy will think you are weak. "
The weapon master stood right in front of him, imposing and massive like a mountain. His shaved head showed a large tattoo, and his long blond beard covered the scar on his chin. He looked at him sternly and suddenly felt his throat go dry.
He swallowed as he assumed the fighting stance.
The master rested the big sword on his shoulder.
" I will not go lightly just because you are a prince, know that. " he declared before launching himself at him with a snap.
Loki closed his eyes and in a split second was on the ground with his face in the mud. Behind him the laughter of the other children.
" Don't close your eyes!  " shouted the man. " Do you want to find yourself with a blade stuck in your chest! "
Loki forced up his arms to stand up. The leather tunic was soaked and muddy. He wished only to disappear.
" Get up! "
The master-at-arms of the royal court had trained generations of princes. If the kings of the past had fought valiantly, defeating powerful and monstrous enemies, it was only because of him. He was rigid in his teaching, did not tolerate mistakes and was seldom satisfied with his pupils' achievements, but once in War no one could stop them.
With Loki, however, it was getting complicated.
Never in his life had he witnessed such disastrous training.
He had repeatedly told Odin that, perhaps, warrior skills were not really his forte, but the king had insisted that he receive the same training as Thor. Indeed, that he be sterner still.
" Get ready, come on! And don't you dare close your eyes! "
After grueling training all morning, finally the master-at-arms had declared that they could devote themselves to cleaning their horses.
Loki had approached his own. A beautiful shiny black thoroughbred. As soon as the horse saw him he approached with his muzzle to be petted.
The animal was aggressive with everyone, even the most experienced stable boy struggled to stand up to him, but with Loki he had never been aggressive. In fact, he was the only one he allowed to touch and ride him.
He took the brush and began to pass it over the animal's neck. The horse seemed to like it and let himself be.
Loki liked taking care of his horse. He was intelligent and endowed with a fierceness that surpassed that of any horse in the stable. Besides, he was the only one who could touch him, and for that he felt special.
Suddenly the horse began to stir. He was flailing on his front legs and neighing nervously.
" Good Fenrir, good...what is wrong with you? "
" Did the little prince make a boo-boo again ? "
A well-known and unappreciated female voice behind him made him wince. That was why the horse had suddenly become nervous.
Loki turned toward Sif. The little girl was swaggering toward him. Her long black hair pulled back into a high ponytail. She had not a single scratch, not even a mark on her training uniform. In contrast he had a bruise above his eye and a skinned knee.
" What do you want?" he asked sharply. The only quiet moment of the day ruined by that insulting little girl's snark.
" Nothing, I came to see how the little prince is doing after his hard training.  " Sif sat down on the little stone wall and began to swing her legs. A disparaging smile opened on the girl's lips.
Loki turned back to the horse without giving her any answer. She was only teasing him, and for that he promised himself not to react.
But Sif had no intention of demurring.
" You know, at your age they were already taking me to battle. A real battle. " She emphasized the word real well. " When do you plan to learn how to wield a sword? Or do you plan to stay and embroider with the ladies of the court when Thor will be king and has to go down into battle?  " Sif laughed heartily, but her laughter was short-lived because she realized that her interlocutor was blissfully ignoring her.
She jumped off the low wall and approached with heavy footsteps. How dare that runt ignore her like that?
She grabbed him by the arm and forced him to turn around.
" Don't ignore me, little one-" she did not finish the sentence that the brush Loki held in his other hand came straight at her face.
She recoiled in surprise. She had not expected him to react.
She touched her lip and saw his fingers stained red.
" This but you pay for it. " she hissed furiously and with a leap was on him. She pushed him to the ground and held him down by the wrists.  " Apologize to me! " she shouted.
Loki struggled in an attempt to free himself, but Sif was too strong. They said she was as strong as a male because she could easily compete with his peers in tests of strength and endurance.
" Let go of me! " cried Loki flailing and pawing with all his strength.  " Let me go! "
Sif drew a dagger from its sheath and brought the blade close to Loki's cheek.
Loki watched in terror as the blade approached his skin.
" What...what are you going to do?  " he said with a note of fear in his voice.
Sif plunged the blade into his flesh, giving him a deep cut. Blood immediately began to pour out copiously.
" There, now we're even. " sneered Sif.
Loki felt his cheek burning and blood soaking his shirt collar. He was terrified, unable to react.
" Sif, leave him!"
Thor's voice reached them not far away.
" What are you doing?  " he said, running toward them.
" He started it! " she said, getting up and leaving Loki finally free.
Thor saw his brother's face and widened his eyes.
" Are you crazy? If my mother finds out, she will kill us! " Thor knew of his mother's lifelong regard for his brother, both in the always sweet way she spoke to him and the thoughtfulness in the gestures and looks with which she made sure nothing unpleasant happened to him.
Thor was a little envious of this. That petulant whine always ended up running into his mother's arms at every half-hearted squabble they had, always blowing it out of proportion and ending up looking like the poor man on duty while he got an earful or a chastisement.
So bringing him home in that condition meant being grounded for life.
He approached his brother to at least try to make up for the disaster by cleaning him up and taking him to the healers, and in the meantime he thought of a credible excuse to tell his mother. Had he fallen? Had she accidentally hit him at practice? Had a ferocious wolf attacked him in the woods and almost mauled him if he did not intervene to save him? Here, he already liked the latter hypothesis better. Maybe they would even reward him for his bravery.
" Loki get up I'll take you ... " but Thor did not finish the sentence because his brother had already escaped.

*
On horseback it was definitely a different story. Sylvie was not going to endure another crossing on foot through valleys and forests. Now she could finally enjoy the calm of a walk through the woods.
Loki led the way by paving the way. Those woods he knew them inside out, venturing out alone to find a quiet moment. He had walked through them hundreds of times, both on horseback and on foot.
He admitted that he missed the greenery that Asgard gave. A nature he had not yet seen in any of the Nine Realms.
Suddenly he felt a tingling in his left cheek. He instinctively touched the very slight thickening of the skin due to an old scar. A scar that was hardly visible, but one that he still remembered well when Sif had given it to him quite some time ago. Fortunately, the mark had not remained, but every so often it reminded him that it was there to keep him company.
He hurried the horse's pace and Sylvie did the same.
" How much longer? " the girl asked, approaching him.
" It's not much further. We have to go down the path, then as soon as we leave the woods behind, the clearing leading to the entrance to Asgard will open up. " 
The horses' hooves echoed in equal rhythm on the ground. It was a feeling he had not experienced in ages, that of riding.
At one point he stopped the horse and Sylvie looked at him questioningly.
" Why did you stop? "
Loki waited until he heard the sound of a branch breaking and someone falling from the tree in front of them.
Sylvie promptly dismounted from her horse.
" Are you hurt? Oh, but you are a child! " she said.
He had black hair and very light skin. Green eyes peered at her intently, and a conspicuous cut on her cheek made the end of the line. The blood had congealed now for several hours, but sure needed a healer's look.
" Come, let me see you. " Sylvie said as she approached.
The child, however, stood up sharply. 
" Don't touch me, stranger. " he said in a grave tone, pushing away with a sharp gesture the girl's hand that was about to touch him.
Loki watched the child look at them angrily. He had not yet said a word. It was absurd to see himself so small again.
He did not even know that he had such a fiery look even as a child. He could see all the anger and resentment etched in those little green eyes. 
He remembered very well what had happened in the previous hours and could feel those feelings again. Anger, fear, hatred. He had failed to defend himself that time and remembered how he had felt crushed by the weight of feeling small and weak. It was from that moment that he decided to use the seiðr, which he was learning to use, as a weapon and not just a game.
He would become so powerful and feared that no one would ever overwhelm him again.
" You are a long way from Asgard. " he finally said in a calm tone.
" This does not concern you. I should not even talk to an inferior being like you. " blurted out the child Loki, however, looking away from the man on the horse.
" Boy, what a temper. " murmured Sylvie.  " So small and already angry at the whole world. " she glanced at the adult Loki, but he did not reciprocate. 
Sylvie then approached the child and bent on her knees to get at his height.
" Look, how about we take you home? "
The child crossed his arms over his chest.
" I don't need you. I can very well take care of myself and...Hey!"
Sylvie saw the child lift himself off the ground. Loki lifted him by the collar and straddled him, between himself and his mane. 
" How dare you take me like this? Do you know who I am? I am Odin's son and I will have you beheaded for this insolence of yours! " he shouted, trying to extricate himself.
" Yes, whatever, but now shut up. You are unbearable. " 
" I will have your tongue cut out for your insolence. " he hissed between his teeth, furious. His serious look was definitely unsuitable for such a small child. 
" I'll cut your tongue out if you don't shut your mouth, you brat. " the man said in response, giving the animal's hips a smack to make him walk.
Loki knew he had shut him up for quite a while and Sylvie restrained herself from bursting out laughing.
It was funny, all things considered.

*

" Thor, where is your brother? " Frigga's tone was harsh, but the look concealed some concern.
" I don't know, mother. I am not his wet nurse. " said the eldest son. He gave Sif a quick glance and she merely shrugged.
Frigga sighed. " Thor, how many times have I told you that as the eldest brother you have a responsibility to make sure nothing happens to him? "
Thor crossed his arms over his chest, stymied. " It is not my fault that he ran off to who knows where. I told him to come back, but he ... " he froze suddenly sensing from his mother's gaze that he had talked too much.
" So you know he ran away. " the queen ascertained, thinning her gaze.
" Um..." he swallowed and began to move nervously in place....
" Majesty! "
A knight of the royal guard galloped toward them.
" At the entrance two strangers on horseback with Prince Loki. He is wounded. "
Frigga was immediately alarmed and arranged to take her immediately to the entrance. She did not fail to cast a furious glance at Thor who said, "I will reckon with you later. "
Thor signaled Sif by running a thumb under his throat. He was dead. Very dead.
Reaching the entrance Frigga saw his second son on horseback accompanied by two people he had never seen before.
" Loki! " The child widened his eyes. " Mother! " With a leap he got off his horse and ran toward her.
The trickster, on horseback, remained motionless. Although a long time had passed , his mother's face was still as beautiful as he remembered it. When he heard her call his name, for a moment he was convinced that she was addressing him specifically. But the illusion was short-lived because all the thoughtfulness and concern in the way she had called him was directed at the baby.
Of course, he was still him, a few centuries younger, but for some absurd and inexplicable reason he was jealous.
Oh come on, he told himself. How can you be jealous of yourself?
Frigga instructed the healers to take her son to the healing room and then wait for his arrival.
" I thank you for your thoughtfulness in bringing my son home safely. "
Loki dismounted from his horse and left the reins to the court groom.
" It was by chance that we found him. We were looking for a place to camp when he fell out of a tree. I think he took quite a beating. "
" Surely he will recover. He is strong. " Frigga smiled. " You can stay in the court for as long as you need to. You are my guests. "
" Thank you, but I don't think we will stay long. "
" Not even for a banquet? "
A powerful voice behind the queen's back made everyone turn around. A series of bows followed as she moved forward.
Loki shuddered. Odin was advancing in his grandeur and royalty among the crowd of onlookers who had gathered to watch.
The old man always had the same expression. The seriousness of one who carried the responsibility of the Nine Realms on his shoulders. 
" We don't think..."
Sylvie blocked him. " We would love to assist! Thank you, Mr...." she hesitated for a moment and leaned sideways toward Loki to be prompted on who it was
" That's Odin. " he whispered so as not to be heard, and Sylvie's eyes widened.
" Oh, Odin, sir, um...majesty...? "
Loki ran his hand over his forehead and sighed. 
" Well, " Odin sentenced. " Tonight we will give a banquet to thank you for bringing my son home. " He clutched the scepter more tightly and peered intently at those unfamiliar faces.
" What is your name? " 
" I am Sylvie and he is, um..."
" Tony Stark. "
Sylvie gave him a grim look. 
Odin's gaze seemed to soften just barely. 
" Lady Sylvie, Lord Stark. " he pronounced with solemnity. " Asgard welcomes you. May you have a pleasant stay. "
When the king had walked away, Sylvie turned to Loki and raised a puzzled eyebrow.
" Tony Stark? Really? "
Loki shrugged. " That's the first name that came to my mind. Why, don't you like it? " he asked with an amused smile, then with a snap of his fingers took on the scientist's appearance. " Better? "
Sylvie looked at the man in front of her and did not know whether to laugh or smack him. With those green sunglasses, the Led Zeppelin shirt and that arrogant smile were enough to make her nervous. She only knew who Tony Stark was from his TV appearances, and that was already enough to ascertain that she didn't like him at all. Him and his stupid red armor. 
Loki took off his glasses, then put them back on. He took them off and put them back on one more time. " How can he use these things? You can see everything green! "
Sylvie patted him on the arm and muttered through clenched teeth, "idiot," before walking toward the building. Two steps and she froze, not remembering the way back.
She looked up. 
" All right then, Lord Stark. Please lead the way. " she said, inviting him forward.

The guest room was more like an apartment than a room. It was finely furnished, in typical Asgardian style. Luxury reigned supreme, and the decorations were meticulous and detailed.
Sylvie ran her fingers over the fine wooden furniture. She had never seen so much luxury all at once.
Loki, on the other hand, was absorbed in his thoughts. Something was wrong with him, and when she had this feeling she was rarely wrong.
Sylvie threw herself onto the bed and noted its softness. The bedspread was satin, so beautifully embroidered and fine that she was almost sorry she had crumpled it.
" Loki. " she called to him.
The god of deception turned and Sylvie signaled for him to go and lie down next to her.
When he lay down beside her the woman could not help but observe him. She lingered on the scar on his cheek. She reached out a finger and touched it to him.
" Sif is a real bitch. " she said.
She had been so insistent in telling him what had happened that Loki finally gave in to not hearing from her again. She was really stubborn when she put her mind to it.
" You really had to be alone in here. " she murmured.
Loki did not respond.
" I don't know if I would have liked to live here. " she said after a long silence. She observed the canopy above his head.
" Why?" 
Sylvie thought about it for a while. She had never had rules or anyone to whom she was accountable, and this gave her total, absolute freedom. In Asgard she had seen how instead there was a code to follow made of bows, respect, low looks. Every inhabitant was subject to rules and laws, written and unwritten, that dictated the order but somehow imprisoned the people to submit to traditions and customs as old as Asgard itself.
Sylvie sighed. " Too much formality, too many labels, too much pretense. " she said as she turned to him and saw his expression change. " Then all these bows, this forced politeness. For goodness sake. " Sylvie put herself on her elbow and rested one cheek on her hand. This way she could see Loki's profile well. She liked to observe him.
" I find you a little ridiculous."
Loki finally decided to look at her and smiled.
" A course in manners wouldn't hurt you. "
Sylvie frowned. " What is it about my manners that you don't like? "
" You are ungainly. " and laughed.
Sylvie stood and addressed him with a solemn bow.
" Does His Majesty not like my ungainly manners? " she said assuming a mock authoritative tone. " Do you not find me worthy enough to be with a member of the royal lineage, Silver Tongue? "
Loki propped himself up on his elbows.
Sylvie opened the closet and pulled out the first dress that came her way.
" Does His Highness think I look better in a skirt and spend my days gossiping with the other ladies of the court? " 
The man got up and stood in front of her. Sylvie continued with her theater.
" Would you prefer that I address you by calling you by name and wear sumptuous clothes, strolling around and bowing every time I meet you? Then maybe I stay at home embroidering and waiting for you while you fight battles? "
Loki took the dress and threw it away. " I hate court ladies. " he said. " I much prefer a woman fighter to a lady-in-waiting. A self-respecting prince has a warrior woman by his side. " He took her hand and kissed her back. " An asgardian warrior to be exact. Am I right, my lady? "
Sylvie removed her hand and gave him a sardonic smile. " I am not your prey, Loki of Asgard. "
" You have entered the wolf's den now, it will be difficult to get out. "
The wolf who had bewitched and seduced dozens of women had found the only prey who could stand up to him. 

With the movement of his fingers he transformed Sylvie's clothes into a magnificent red gown. The corset cinched the waist and emphasized the female form while the skirt was studded with tiny crystals that reflected light with every movement. She saw herself reflected in the mirror and was surprised. She had never worn anything like this, accustomed to using the first useful thing to survive. Certainly elegance was not among her priorities or interests, too busy running, hiding, living.
Loki stood behind her, resting his hands on her bare arms.
" A lady of the court, no. But a queen yes. " he blew close to her ear and Sylvie held back a gasp as she did every time he was near her. " In another time perhaps you would have been. "
" To be a queen requires a king. " Sylvie saw the trickster smile at the reflection. A bitter, almost sad smile.
" To be king requires a kingdom. And that is not my case. "  
The woman turned around moving her wide skirt and fastened her arms behind his neck. " Well, there is Thor anyway. " 
" If you prefer that boorish goat, I certainly won't be the one to stop you. "
Sylvie raised an eyebrow. " And how come I have the feeling that you are lying? "
" Because you will always come back to me in the end. " he smiled mockingly, shortening the distance between them.
" Arrogant, swaggering and overconfident. " she scoffed at him, sketching a half smile. She stood up on her toes and brushed her lips with his.
" I'm going to take a bath. Would you like to join me?"
" I might. " he replied.
He followed her without making her repeat herself twice.
Sylvie opened the bathroom door and froze.
" Is this the bathtub?"
Loki looked out. " Yes, it's not much. After all, it is the guest room. "
The girl looked at him frowning in surprise. " Not a big deal? It's huge! " she said looking at the rectangular marble tub where several people could fit comfortably. Two steps allowed access to the tub.
Loki rippled his lips in an amused smile at Sylvie's amazement.
" Are you so surprised to have seen a bathtub?" he asked almost laughing.
She instead shot him a dirty look.
Sometimes Loki took it for granted that she had lived very little in the luxury of the palace and certain things, taken for granted by him, were just imagination to her. Having grown up among the apocalypses it was often difficult even to take a bath, let alone have a room to herself.
The god of deception did not miss the look that had become dark from painful memories and, because of that, he stopped laughing.
Sylvie began to unfasten her corset.... " So sorry I didn't grow up in luxury like you. " she said coldly, untying her hair and freeing it from knots with her fingers.
Loki sighed. " Sometimes I forget that we didn't grow up the same way. "
Sylvie noticed a hint of displeasure in the man's eyes. After all, how could he understand her? He had had an entire wing of the palace at his complete disposal, handmaids and servants making sure everything was ready for him and lavishing themselves on satisfying even the smallest whim.
She, on the other hand, could hardly find a safe place to sleep.

What she did not know, however, was that Loki, too, had for a time been reduced to living in squalor.

Shortly after falling off the Bifrost and humbling himself to ask Thanos for help the latter had yes welcomed him, but certainly not in the way Loki would have expected. He had nowhere near the privileges that his adopted sons had. No private quarters, no clean clothes, little food to ration with others.
He had made his way among Thanos's underlings through his cunning and by making himself available in performing ungrateful tasks in order to ingratiate himself with the Titan so that he would give him some preferential treatment.
Eventually he succeeded in having that extra something, earned by toil, blood and sweat. He could have fresh and sufficient rations, have access to care when he needed it, and talk almost freely with the Titan's children. And this was good because he could listen and glean as much useful information as he could then, one day, turn against him.
For they could bind and harness him, but he would always find a way to rebel and escape.
He would not remain the Titan's personal servant for much longer.
In the meantime, however, he had to obey, pretend to be devoted to that unscrupulous purple being. Even if that meant sleeping ever vigilant and with a dagger clutched to his chest for fear that some envious subordinate would attack him.
After all, the two of them were not so different. Two different stories that had led to the same ending.
Sylvie barely smiled, trying to dampen the suddenly tense air.  
" There are nights I dream of my life here. " she said looking at him with those wistful green eyes. " I always imagine what it would be like to have a sister. "
Loki smiled wryly at her. " Better alone than having an intrusive and annoying brother. What I wouldn't have given to be an only child. "
" I don't think he means it. " she said, shifting her gaze downward. She knew she had touched a sore spot, and indeed, an annoyed grimace appeared on the prince's face, a sign that he had been affected.
Of Thor he remembered first the teasing when they were children, then the taunts and insults they hurled at every possible opportunity as they grew older. He also remembered the endless challenges the thunder god threw at him just for the sake of seeing him lose, to the fights that ensued in which he always ended up on the ground.He remembered his intrusiveness in his rooms when he was in pleasant company just to irritate him, to how he always put him in a bad light in front of others to get a brief moment of glory.
This was having a brother. The living in his shadow, trying to rise to imitate him only to fall when he found he would never measure up.
As an only child he would have no one to compete with, no one to admire or try to reach. He would be himself, always, not the pale shadow of an unattainable brother.
For Loki, a brother was that, but he was also something else.
He was also the one who practiced with him with the sword in the arena, teaching him the best techniques learned on the battlefield. He was also the one who more than once defended him against older boys.
And he was also the one who saved his life in battle, putting himself between him and the enemy and cashing a blow that, had he been a mere soldier, would surely have been fatal.

" Stupid idiot goat. " he told him when he went to the infirmary to note the severity of his wounds. " No one asked you to get in the way. I would have been fine on my own. "
Thor rippled his lips into a half smile, dulled only by the sharp pain in his chest. " Our mother wants you home in one piece. A simple thank you would suffice. "
Loki barely curled his lips and lifted his chin proudly.
A thank you would never have escaped his lips, but shortly afterwards he returned with a still sealed ointment, which he tossed to him ruefully.
" I got it some time ago from a merchant. He assured me that a painkiller as powerful as this is not to be found in any of the Nine Realms. If you don't let me sleep tonight because of your moaning, it means he has been playing me. " he said without any emotion in his voice.
Thor smiled at him and took the gift as a token of thanks.
This is what it means to have a brother. Someone to hate and love at the same time.
He had hated Thor for an indefinite time.
At least, so he was convinced. He was convinced of his hatred until he peered into his future seeing how, even though he finally had the chance to see his hated brother dead, he did not beg Thanos to stop from carrying out the slaughter.
He had given in. He was not going to make it, now or ever, to end the glorious light of the thunder god.
And what would he get in return? Fame and recognition? No. Only a broken neck.
This left him with bitterness in his mouth, with the sour aftertaste of a feeling he did not believe he had.
He hated his brother, but he loved him.
The water was already ready, just warm enough and with essential oils that perfumed the room and made the bath even more welcoming. A thoughtfulness that the handmaids always reserved for the queen's guests.
Sylvie felt the need to soak in the water to wash away the dirt, sweat and sense of anguish that Jotunheim had given her all along.
A place she had no idea was populated with such rawness and brutality, despite having seen death and destruction, misery and suffering for years. But discovering how fierce your origins can be more painful than anything seen before.
Both of them realized this too late.

Once inside she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply the water vapors which immediately had a beneficial effect on her tense nerves. She wanted to shake off that nagging awareness that she had taken on the appearance of a Jotun for too long. That bluish skin and the tribal marks etched into her skin had stuck to her skin and bones like glue. She wanted to get rid of that feeling forever.
Soon Loki joined her as well, soaking and relaxing his perpetually tense and alert muscles.
Sylvie took a soap-soaked sponge and ran it over her arm, scraping away the grime that had stuck to her.
" Give it to me. " he told her, and the girl obeyed by giving him the sponge and turning her back to him. She let him wash her as she brought her knees to her chest.
How could he be both cynical and cruel, both caring and shrewd?
She found him terribly elusive, the god of deception. He was fickle and unpredictable, but also careful and thoughtful. He cared for her, he cared for her, but he could also sever the carotid artery of those who got in his way without remorse, without regret.
The smooth movements with which he washed her finally gave her time to close her eyes and relax.
It was a rare, precious gesture of caring that she would not turn away from for anything in the world.
Loki shook her hair and kissed her neck. He longed for her, and Sylvie did not let him repeat it twice, turning and seeking his thin lips.
It had been heartbreaking, intense and painful to visit Jotunheim, and now, in that moment of brief tranquility, they were to find each other again.
He was gentle in his touch, as if afraid of hurting her again.
He let her seek him out, sighing against him so that he could become intoxicated with her.
Loki could no longer do without Sylvie, he realized now. She was his in a fierce, inexplicable way.
The wolf who coveted prey as his property, in the way the Æsir treated their women: with loyalty, respect, jealousy.
He would never hurt her again, he vowed. He would not allow his pride to demolish it all.
And he made it clear to her.
" I'm sorry. " he murmured with a sigh in her ear, and that was all Sylvie needed, knowing how much effort it had cost him to admit that mistake.
There was no deception, lies or malice in that admission of guilt, just a desire not to destroy something again with his own hands.
There was no need for long speeches or who knows what carefully selected words to understand each other. After all, were they not the same person? With the same dreams, ambitions, plans?
Of Sylvie he knew practically everything. He knew when she was annoyed by the way she curled her lips or how her gaze lit up when she was curious about something. She had learned to know every facet of her complex range of emotions simply by observing her. And not just because he found her beautiful, indeed gorgeous, but more because of her insatiable desire to have everything under control. He could not afford to keep secrets from her or he feared that he would not be able to have her completely.
All his life he had been convinced that true strength was knowledge. Just having one too many pieces of information was enough to move an entire kingdom and bring it to collapse. He had become aware of how Asgard was teeming with intrigue and secrets that Odin was only partially aware of. All that glitters was not gold, and even Asgard, which prided itself on being a strong, glorious and cutting-edge kingdom, actually had rot inside.
And the god of deception had learned that knowing Asgard's secrets meant having Asgard itself in his grasp. All it took was a single word spoken at the right time to trigger a series of events that would cause that thousand-year-old kingdom to falter from within.
He had made friends and lovers over time just to extract confidential information and then use it at will against them.
Loki had long noticed that money was regularly missing from the treasure chest, and for this reason he had cunningly and feigned condescension made friends with Gunnarr, the court treasurer as well as Odin's longtime friend.
At the tavern they used to meet at, they exchanged a series of jokes that made the young prince realize that it was time to dare to ask for more.
Between a smile and a friendly word he made sure that Gunnarr's mug was never empty and patiently waited for the appropriate moment to ask what he wanted to know.
" Odin is getting too old and too rich to realize that some coins are missing. " laughed the treasurer, red in the face, draining yet another mug of mead all in one breath.
Loki smiled wickedly and called to the innkeeper to point out that their mugs were still empty.
" And what happens to the gold coins you appropriate? " he asked cautiously, savoring every single word that would come out of the idiot's mouth.
" I pay myself some floozies with it, help some friends, gamble. " he replied with a shrug.
Loki smiled smugly and drank from his mug the mead that had taken on a decidedly sweeter taste.
Gunnarr, however, perhaps pervaded by a brief moment of lucidity, whitened when he realized who the interlocutor was to whom he had revealed that secret. He had admitted to using treasure money for vile, selfish, severely punishable purposes.
" You...won't say anything to your father will you? "
" I am not a spy. It is not a quality that suits me. " he said quietly, raising his mug in a sign of friendship. Gunnarr smiled and took a long sip, convinced that the junior prince would keep the secret.
Having revealed that information to him was for Loki like having the upper hand.
Being friends with the god of deception necessarily entailed owing him something.
When he discovered that the Dwarves had forged an exquisitely crafted dagger with a hilt decorated with remarkable carvings and embellished with diamonds and rubies, he did not make Gunnarr wait to exchange favors. For his silence he owed him something.
It was impossible for Loki to gain access to the realm of the Dwarves because they were offended by the constant intrigue and cheating by which he misappropriated some of their artifacts.
But now Gunnarr had been sent by Odin himself to collect tribute payments, and what better time to ask for a little help?
" I cannot steal the dagger for you. Not from the Dwarves. " Gunnarr said quietly, beginning to break into a cold sweat. " If they found out, they would kill me. "
Loki approached quietly with the usual mocking smile rippling his lips. " Of course, I understand. It is a very high risk and I would be sorry if anything happened to you. " he said mellifluously, resetting the distance completely and adjusting the buckle that held his cloak in place with two fingers, in a gesture both reassuring and ruthless. Gunnarr realized that he had ended up in the coils of a snake, ready to crush him as soon as he wanted to do so.
Loki watched him with his clear eyes. " I just want to warn you, before I leave, that my father asked me to check the books because he noticed some strange deficiencies. " he lied, immediately seeing the treasurer stiffen. He loved to see how his prey fell into the webs of his deceptions, with no more freedom to move. Gunnarr looked around and began to stammer something, but Loki stopped him.
" I can make certain, how should I say, sensitive information disappear. However, I need you to do something for me too, you know like true friends. I do a favor for you and you do a favor for me. "
Gunnarr sighed and cursed himself for underestimating the youngest of Odin's sons like that. But he could not rebel or act otherwise because the spider's web had inexorably enveloped him.
It would be the first in a long series of favors.
" I will do as you wish, my lord. " he said surrenderingly, lowering his gaze.
An amused light crossed the prince's green eyes.
" I knew I could count on you. "
With Sylvie he did none of this. He listened to her because he wanted to, not to use what he knew against her. He would not use his excellent skills to manipulate her because to do so would have been the worst of affronts. She was his woman now and as such he had her total respect.
The women of the Æsir enjoyed the same rights as men; they were not submissive or slaves like the women of neighboring kingdoms. They went into battle alongside their men, and if they stayed at home they had full authority within the home. 
Loki had to learn to trust her because it was essential for his honor to show respect to those he had decided to keep beside him.

They consummated love there, in the water. A love made of sighs and moans captured with their lips. After the chaos enveloped them Sylvie abandoned herself completely in his arms, caressing his skin and brushing some old scars with her fingertips.
" I don't like hurting people. " Loki said in a rough voice after a long silence, sinking his nose into her hair. " Many people think this, but it is not so. It's all part of the illusion of believing you are better than others. "
He was painfully elusive the god of deception. 
But perhaps a little less so today.

New York, year 2015

Thor was in the presence of the Avengers, called with great urgency by the group of friends he had helped long ago. They were tense and also very concerned.
Tony and Bruce, arms crossed, stared nervously at the scepter emanating a pulsating white light.
" Come on Mr. Muscle, what do you have to tell us? "
Stark urged the thunder god to say something. He had been observing for interminable minutes the object that had become a heated source of debate among the members of the group for days. For Clint it was necessary to get rid of it immediately-complicated by remembering very well how that contraption had reduced him-, for Nat it was time to call Fury. Steve had been silent the whole time and Bruce was studying, analyzing, thinking.
Thor approached the scepter that years earlier his brother had used to sow death and destruction on the planet the thunder god had chosen as his second home. Midgard was under his protection now, nothing and no one would affect its inhabitants.
" It does not belong to Asgard. " he said seriously, circling the weapon and observing it scrupulously.
" What do you mean it doesn't belong to Asgard?" rebutted Tony, already annoyed and not very tolerant of the whole thing. His plan for a new defense weapon for mankind was slowly selling out, and it was making him furious.
" This technology and this kind of material is not of my realm. I know very well what the Dwarves forge and I assure you that they have never had to deal with such objects. " He touched the scepter, which for a brief moment glowed. There had to be great power in it; he sensed it from the energy it emanated. It was unclear what it was, but if Loki wielded it so jealously it had to be something tremendous and frightening. 
His blue eyes lingered for a long time on the hilt, the sharp shape, the material from which it was forged, and he quickly recalled where he might have seen something like it before.
Only once did he see that kind of material, and that was in the trophy room of Asgard, where he and his brother would sneak in to look at and admire the relics taken from their enemies.
" Only one people could have created such a thing. " he took a pause in which everyone stared at him. " The Chitauri. "
In the trophy room stood the staff of the Chitauri, taken by Odin in a termanol far, when this species, even before it joined Thanos, traveled the universe in search of planets to plunder. They had reached Asgard, but even before they could cross the borders, Heimdall had seen them and AllFather himself descended in defense of his kingdom, eliminating the threat and making sure they never returned.
When he told this story his children listened rapt, imagining what it must have been like to fight against such a notorious army.

Now Thor was not as fascinated by that weapon as he always was when he sneaked a peek at it, but he was understanding its scope and destructive power.

" Perfect, let's call them and tell them to come and get it back. " blurted Tony, flooding his arms.
Thor laughed. " Do you think it's enough to call them as you do using those absurd contraptions? " he thinned his gaze. " they are destructive, diabolical, evil beings. They will never accept that we return their scepter to them without doing anything about it. "
Thor crossed his mighty arms over his chest. " I just don't understand what Loki had to do with such a people. "
" Everything would be easier if we had eliminated Loki the moment the Hulk stopped him. " Natasha burst out, abandoning herself in a chair and closing her eyes.
" I would never have allowed him to be killed. He was blinded by hatred for me. I am partly to blame. " he said cuttingly, turning to the redhead.
Nat raised an eyebrow. " Despite everything he did you still defend him?"
" He is still my brother. " he said peremptorily. He would never forgive him for what he had done, even though he was convinced that some of the blame was his own. But he would never be able to witness his death sentence, and for that he mentally thanked the gods that his mother was able to convince his father to change the sentence from a death sentence to life imprisonment. He would never get out of the dungeon, but at least he still had his head attached to his neck.

Natasha stood up and stood in front of him with her hands on her hips.
" He has killed thousands of people, Thor. Don't forget that. And don't use the excuse that he was adopted. "
" And for that I am mortified and beg Midgard's forgiveness on behalf of all Asgard. " he said sincerely sorry. Then he looked up at the others present. " Loki is an Asgardian citizen and has the same rights as everyone else. He will have a fair trial before the gods. "
" He is right. " Steve interjected. " Every criminal is entitled to a trial. We are not murderers. "
" All right, all right, Mr. Crazy Man will have his Law and Order trial. " Tony drew the team's attention back to himself and stood in front of the scepter wrinkling his forehead. " We have to decide what to do with this thing. "
Banner shrugged his shoulders. " Let's destroy it. "
" It cannot be destroyed so easily. " Thor sighed, rolling his eyes.
" Then let's call Fury and let him take care of it. " proposed Clint.
" Or... " said Thor. " I can go to my brother and see if I can find out anything. "
The captain looked at him seriously. " He can be dangerous. What if he actually is behind this? " Steve said.
" My father took away his powers, and never has anyone escaped from the prisons of Asgard. " he laid his gaze on each present. " I would like to talk to him. "
The team scrutinized each other carefully, looking to their comrades for an expression or nod they could use to convince Thor that this was a bad idea. No one spoke, and finally Rogers nodded.
" All right. Get a hidden microphone. We want to hear the conversation, too. "
Thor nodded and walked quickly toward the exit. Natasha, after a brief moment of hesitation, caught up with him. 
" Hey. " she called to him and the prince stopped, barely turning around. She reached him at a quick pace and Thor already knew what she wanted to say to him. 
" My brother was not always like this. I once trusted him enough to trust him with my life. He had my back countless times and I had his. What did I do wrong? " he asked in a rough voice.
Nat sketched a half smile. " The relationship between brothers is always a mess. Trust me, I know something about it. "
" I hope it doesn't center on adoptions, rivalries and ascension to the throne. "
" She tried to kill me countless times and then disappeared. " 
" A classic. " he said wryly.
Black widow became serious. " Everything will be all right. " 

Chapter Text

The prisons of Asgard were dark, cold, and populated by the worst criminals.
Loki kept to himself, ignoring quarrels, assaults, shouts and insults between guards and prisoners. He was not interested in participating in useless discussions even when incited by fellow prisoners. Many of those locked up had been sent there by Loki himself long ago, and the animosity toward him had never waned even after all those years.
They found it amusing that the Trickster had ended up down there with them and never failed to remind them, every day, how much they despised him and that soon, very soon, they would have their chance to be alone with him. And without powers, without help, they would put him through the worst pains of hell.
But despite the real threats, Loki, of them, cared absolutely nothing. He was not afraid nor was he in any way intimidated by the idea that really the prisoners and the guards would agree to make vengeance happen.
Scum they were and scum they remained.
The guards, on the other hand, at first fearful and wary of having the notorious god of Mischief there with them, now treated him like the other prisoners if not worse. They laughed and sneered at him all the time, now that they had ascertained that he was totally harmless and with no chance of getting out.
They repaid him in the same way as when, from the height of his arrogance and haughtiness, he walked through the long corridors of the palace and mocked those who were worth nothing to him.
" Your meal. " a guard said dryly, stopping in front of Loki's cell. He saw him sitting cross-legged, his eyes closed and a slightly wrinkled expression.
The guard, fresh from a few weeks of service, took a quick glance at the tray in his hand and then at the seated man who had not moved at all.
"Our beloved queen wishes you to have food befitting your rank. If it were up to me, I would make you eat the scraps of other prisoners. " he said, sneering with amusement. How satisfying was it to be able to speak in that tone to the trickster? How refreshing was it to have an ounce of authority over that being so feared?
Loki did not flinch or dignify him with a glance.
The young Asgardian became nervous. " Get up and get a move on, Jotun. " he said scornfully.
Calling him by his name was no longer allowed. Down there each one lost his identity, where the name was replaced with despicable insults for the sole sake of injuring as much as possible the dignity of one who was considered, alone, a criminal.
" Don't pull the string too hard. " said the god of Mischief in a firm tone. He barely opened his eyes to look at him and notice the guard stiffen.
" Otherwise, what are you doing? You are nothing anymore. Even rats have more dignity than you. " sneered the guard, but Loki immediately noticed the slight sign of discomfort in his eyes. That little boy was challenging him by copying the tone his superiors used with him, but really he was just masking the discomfort of being alone with the infamous traitor of Asgard.
Loki pulled his back straight and moved his head left and right to give relief to the muscles in his neck sore from the long position. Realizing that this was just a little boy trying to hide his fear in feigned poise of straggling, he thought better of putting things in their proper place, reminding him of who he was.
" When I leave here pray I don't find you in my path. " he said icily, raising his lip in a wicked half grin. " I will rip that smile off your face in a slow and painful way, I promise. "
The wry smile on the young man's lips grimaced and his eyebrows furrowed into a furious expression. Despite his condition he still believed he could get out, that he had power over them.
He spat into the plate and handed it to them between the iron grates. Then he smiled again. " Enjoy your meal. "
He walked away amused, and Loki mentally pinned his name to the long list of those he wanted to throttle with his own hands.
" You could have spared yourself these humiliations. "
Loki looked between bars at the thunder god. He looked at him with pain, though he tried to hide it, and Loki was immediately annoyed.
" Brother. " he said, smiling falsely. " You have come to see me at last. I would offer you a mug of mead, but I don't have the luxury of alcohol down here. "
Thor took a chair and stood in front of the cell, under the watchful gaze of the god of Mischief.
" This is a serious matter here. " he said with an amused grin, taking in turn a chair and standing in front of his brother. One leg crossed over the other and the fingers of his hands intertwined above the knee.
He was curious. After countless days all terribly the same, a breath of fresh air immediately tickled his innate curiosity.
" Tell me, what brings you to my humble abode? "

Thor observed his brother and saw that, despite his long imprisonment and prolonged isolation, he was always the same. From under his suit he could see the muscles still toned, snappy, a sign that he had never stopped training. He was in perfect order, not a hair out of place, as always. Tidiness and precision were a hallmark of him-something he reflected not only on himself but also in his surroundings. The cell was maniacally tidy, perhaps even keeping track of the one thing he could control at the moment. The thunder god smiled mentally as he thought about how different they were. He remembered all the times Loki walked into his room and surveyed the entire room, raising his chin and barely rippling his lips in a disgusted expression.
" You could live in a pigsty. It would be the same for you anyway. "
Thor always laughed, more at his brother's face than at his words. " You are too fine and refined to be an Æsir. You would fit in well with those pussies of the light elves. "
" Just because I eat with cutlery and don't have a burping contest with Volstagg at every freaking banquet doesn't mean I'm too refined. " he said candidly, referring to how, at every banquet made at the end of a battle, he was the only one using cutlery instead of eating with his hands and tearing meat with his teeth like animals.
Thor patted him on the back so hard that he almost fell over. "Enjoy life a little, come on. You are too stiff. "
Loki recomposed himself by shooting him a dirty look. With the toe of his boot he pushed away from himself what had all the appearance of being a dirty pair of underpants.
" I simply do not want to be a troglodyte like you. " he said, curling his lips in disgust.

How many times had they teased each other about their differences? Countless times.
The first time Frigga introduced him to that little bundle as his brother and that they would grow up together, Thor said he was ugly, had a dumb name, and that he didn't want any siblings so they could give him to someone else. His mother laughed and gave him into her arms and saw the firstborn's eyes change expression, almost wonder, until he told her that yes, after all, he could stay there with them.
" Nothing will ever happen to him, mother. I promise. " he said proudly.
In his early years Loki was his shadow. He followed him everywhere, imitated him, literally hung on his every word.
Thor would send him away, then seek him out. He would beat him, then apologize to him. Despite this Loki never wanted to break away from him. How many times had he rescued him after a fall in which he scraped his knees and wiped the blood off him while calling him a jerk? How many times had he defended him from older children?
Sometimes he would find him in the middle of the night in front of the bed, his green eyes veiled with tears, begging him to let him sleep with him because he had had a bad dream. He would huff, he would complain, he would tell him that he was stupid to be afraid to sleep alone, but finally he would give in and, lifting the covers, he would invite him to crawl underneath with him.
" Don't talk, don't move, and don't you dare drool on the pillow. " he would tell him stridently before turning off the light.
Loki curled up and made himself small, stood still and hardly breathed for fear that his brother would send him away.
The next morning Frigga would find them sleeping in each other's arms.
Other times they would stay up all night, hiding under the covers telling each other scary stories or stories of adventures and monsters.
But the more the years passed and they grew up, the more conceited and arrogant Thor became, fueled by constant praise and attention that led him to forget his brother.

" I need to talk to you about something serious. " resumed the thunder god after a long silence immersed in memories.
Loki shrugged his shoulders complacently. " Enlighten me. "
" I need to know who gave you the scepter you used on Midgard. "
Loki tightened his lips and furrowed his brow in puzzlement.
" Why do you care? "
Thor huffed and leaned forward with his upper body.
" Answer me without mincing words. "
Loki parted his lips in a half-smile. He found it curious that Thor had come all the way down there just to know the origin of his scepter. Of course, he imagined that he was not there for a social call or to ask him how he was doing, but he did not think that that weapon could arouse so much curiosity in him that he would go so far as to ask him himself.
No, there definitely had to be something going on, and he wanted to know.
" A friend. " he replied, smiling with amusement.
" You don't have any friends. "
" So you offend me. " he said melodramatically, bringing a hand to his chest. He took pleasure in his brother's testy expression.
" You are insufferable. " hissed Thor at the edge of exasperation. If there had not been a grate to separate them he would have grabbed him by the neck.
Loki spread his legs and rested his elbows on his knees, joining his fingertips together. He stared at him intently as if he wanted to glean every single piece of information from his gaze alone.
" I will not tell you anything unless you first tell me why you are here. " he replied.
Something was definitely happening out there, something big. And he was damned curious to find out.
" Can you, for once, just cooperate, without necessarily asking for something in return? " sighed Thor exhaustedly.
Loki carefully assessed his brother's expression. His green eyes were planted in his blue ones in a challenge of who would falter first.
Thor did not want to tell him what was going on, but he had to find a way to get what he needed out of him. He had never been good with words, much less using them to get needed information. And trying to manipulate him was a losing game all along.
Loki was amused to see his brother try to imitate him, in words and attitudes, failing miserably. He pulled his torso up leaning against the backrest and crossed his arms over his chest.
" I have learned to always ask for something in return, brother. Never give if you haven't received first. Always remember that. "
Thor ignored him." What do you have to do with the Chitauri? Why did you ally yourself with them? "
Here he was, impatient as ever, falling into his trap. He was not going to resist his tricks for long, and in fact he was already beginning to lose the game he had just started. A game of chess in which Loki was its undisputed master, adept at moving his pawns to checkmate without his interlocutor noticing.
" To give that pathetic planet you like so much a leader worthy to command its people.  But you should have figured that out by now. "
" I understand that your thirst for power has clouded your mind. So much so that even from down here you can make your influence felt. " Thor said in a grave tone, thinning his gaze.
Loki barely wrinkled his brow. " I don't understand what you are referring to. I am here, without powers. What would I be doing? "
Thor punched the iron grates, making the metallic clang echo throughout the dungeon.
" Don't lie to me, damn you! You're up to something. I don't know what yet, but I swear I'll find out! "
Loki looked at him closely and began to understand why his brother was so agitated, impatient, and nervous.
" What is happening to the scepter?" he asked, lowering his voice. He abandoned the cocky grin he loved to sport and replaced it with a serious expression.
Thor mentally cursed his marked intelligence. He was already understanding everything without in fact having told him practically anything. Finally he sighed and told him why he was there.
" We have had him in custody for years. Or rather, the Avengers have had him under close watch for years and he has never given any sign. For the past few days, however, he has been brightening up. "
Loki remained silent, thoughtful. For a brief moment it was as if the grate was not there, and the dungeon became the council chamber where they met to discuss. Thor laid out the problem and Loki listened attentively, immediately pondering possible solutions. It was absurd that even there, at that juncture, this very detail came to his mind.
" Did you come down here because you think I was behind its activation? " he said calmly after a long silence.
" And you didn't? "
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but no, I'm not the one who activated it. " He looked away, and Thor immediately noticed his change of expression.
" You do know something, though. Don't you? " he pressed him. He had found something in that sudden change of expression, something worth trying to hold on to.
Loki stood up with a snap and had his back to him. " Visiting hours are over. Goodbye. " he told him coldly, walking over to the bookcase and picking up a random volume. He lay down on the bed and began to read.
Thor did not get up or give any sign that he wanted to interrupt the visit like that. Not now.
Loki did not care. The mocker could stay there as long as he wanted, as much as he cared. They were done arguing and the only thing he wanted was to be left alone.
" In spite of everything our mother cares for you by getting you what you need to keep from going crazy. " Thor said suddenly, referring to the book in his hand. " Isn't that the book she gave you years ago when you had a bad fall from a horse and were stuck in bed for a month? "
Loki gave him a brief glance and sneered. " What a memory. " he said, returning to his reading. " I would walk you out, but as you see I am very busy right now. "
Thor sighed and stood up. He took one last look at his brother in the hope of his changing his mind, but it was no longer of interest to him now.
" Despite everything. " he said, barely turning away. " I still don't explain how I still manage not to hate you. In fact, I keep hoping that you will return to being the brother I used to esteem and fight by my side. "
" I am not your brother. I never have been. " The god of deception did not take his eyes off his book, but he was not reading at all. He was reflecting on the brief conversation they had.
" We played together, we fought together. Was none of this ever anything to you? "
Loki gave him no nod or glance. He simply pretended not to have heard him. Thor, however, did not demur. He had noticed his muscles barely stiffening, his forehead wrinkling. He had found the crack.
" Do you remember the first time you were taken to the battlefield? " he asked in an almost nostalgic tone.
Loki held the voluminous book on his lap and flipped through the pages slowly.
" Are you referring to the time I vomited after seeing a ripped body or the time a Troll's mace almost killed me? "
He decided to grant the thunder god an answer. He didn't know why either. Perhaps out of boredom of standing there doing nothing or to see where he wanted to go with his talk. Or maybe, underneath, he missed talking to him.
" I'm referring to when we stayed up all night talking because you were afraid. "
The deceiver thinned his gaze, freezing him with a grim look.
" I was six years old and was thrown into the middle of a war without knowing how to hold a weapon. Very loving of our father. " he blurted out suddenly unnerved.
The Æsir children were prepared for war at an early age. Thor, Sif and the others at age four attended camps and saw with their own eyes what war brought. Their innocent souls were already stained by blood and death.
Frigga had done everything to delay her youngest son's entry into the war. " He is too young, I beg you my lord, wait a little longer. "
Odin had granted a couple of years of waiting, but in the end he had been adamant when the trolls attacked at the northernmost borders of the kingdom and took the second son with him despite the fact that he was trembling with fear.
" I will not raise a son incapable of fighting, Frigga. He was born among the Æsir and will grow up as one of them. Stop protecting him or he will end up a coward. " Odin replied in a firm and authoritative tone and Frigga had to obey by swallowing the bitter pill.
" At least bring him back alive. " she merely said.

" I hid you and fought in your place so that you would return safely. "
The deceiver thinned his gaze. " Stop it. " he hissed.
Thor realized he was digging in the crack, going down deep, so he continued.
" I defended you from the older boys when they were teasing you, don't you remember? " The thunder god began to spill on his brother what had brought them together, glimpses of a distant past that Loki seemed to have forgotten.
" I was the one who taught you how to use the daggers you like so much. I was the one who trained with you in the arena until you managed to bring me down. "
" Stop it!" raised his voice enraged Loki. He felt anger boiling up inside, because what he was hearing hurt and he did not understand why.
Thor approached the cell and pointed his gaze into its green eyes. "I was the one who used to lift you up and put you on my shoulders so you could see past the crowd. I used to make you sleep with me because you were ashamed to go to Mom and Dad. " He gripped the iron bars tightly. " I had always been there for you, every step of the way. I was more of a father to you than Odin. "
" Stop it, make it stop! " shouted Loki, throwing the book against the bars and slinging himself with a snap in front of his brother.
" What are you playing at, Thor? To make me feel guilty? " he asked in a rough voice.  " Because I don't feel remorse about anything, you know. " he sneered.
Thor sketched a smile. " If you don't feel guilt then why did you just lose control? "
Loki remained speechless. Thor skillfully managed to use words against him until he lost control. It hardly ever happened that he reacted so impulsively, but he could no longer tolerate hearing any more. He remembered those situations he listed very well, had them firmly etched in his mind, and it was those memories he wanted to keep hidden, buried. Hearing them eviscerated outside as if nothing had sent him out of his mind as never before.
Crouching down he picked up the book from the floor and silently put it back in its place. He lay down on the bed and gave him his back as a sign that he wanted nothing more to do with him.
After a long silence Thor resigned himself and walked a few steps away from the cell. He had tried, but nothing seemed to scratch the armor that enveloped him.
He climbed the first step, but Loki's suddenly weary voice stopped him.
" Someone activated the scepter. It did not activate itself. "
Thor quickly returned to the front of the cell, but his brother was still lying with his back to him.
" What do you mean?"
Loki sighed and turned on his back looking at the ceiling.
" The first thing I did as soon as I received that weapon was to carve runes into it to prevent others from using it. " he said calmly.
" Did you enchant it?" 
" To protect it. I didn't want others to steal it from me. "
Thor wrinkled his brow. " So someone knows what runes you have spoken and knows how to use them. "
Loki shrugged his shoulders. " I'm not the only wizard in the universe, you know."
" But you are not clueless. I bet the runes you pronounced are ancient and unknown to most people. If someone has been able to use the same magic as you, it means they are powerful. Maybe more so than you. "
Loki clenched his jaw. There was something strange about it. Very strange. Who could have known the ancient runes he was uttering? They were the result of centuries of study; he could not be just any wizard.
" Is he your famous friend? " Thor asked.
" As powerful as he is, he does not use magic. "
" Then who could it be? "
Loki sighed and took a brief pause in which he observed the ceiling.
" I don't know, " he finally huffed thoughtfully.
That was enough for Thor to realize that he was sincere. For the first time he was truly convinced that he was neither lying nor twisting the truth to his liking. It was strange to trust him after all this time, but he saw no reason why he should lie. 
" Enough is enough. I have what I need. " Thor sentenced, giving him his back to leave.
" Hey, I helped you! Aren't you going to give me anything in return? " he called him back this time looking at him. " Maybe you could have a word with dear Odin and ask him if he will allow me to go out sometimes. " he said with a grin.
Thor approached the grate and smiled. " I will get you today's lunch without spitting. That's the most I can grant you. "
" That doesn't count! Do you hear me!" shouted Loki in the direction in which the thunder god disappeared.
" Idiot. " he mumbled, angry.
He had been mocked.

*

Frigga had been restless for days. She had had an ominous vision of death and destruction. It was unclear, but it did not leave her calm.
She was reminded of the day when the priests visited her the day after the birth of her children. It was customary to honor the birth of members of the royal family by bringing gifts, tributes and prophecies.
Each prince and princess had received his or her vision, glimpses of a barely sketched future, and all of them, for good or ill, foretold the same things: prosperity, wisdom, strength, glory.
Thor was the prince who received all these visions and more. The light that saved the world, the power of lightning that would protect it and make it invincible.
Odin was proud and thrilled. His firstborn son would have a bright future ahead of him, like his ancestors before him who with honor and courage built the foundation to make Asgard the steadfast and invincible point of the Nine Realms.
The time also came for Loki to be honored.
The Kingdom was ecstatic about the second son of the king and queen seeing in them a steadfast and strong union which was also reflected in the people themselves. They loved their rulers and rejoiced with them over the new birth.
Nobles from all over the realm visited them, paying homage to them with valuables of their sincere congratulations.
The priests made their entrance dressed in long white robes embroidered with golden threads. The crest of Asgard shone in the center of their chests, and elaborate headdresses indicated their high rank.
They approached the child convinced they were heralding what they had always foreseen in their future kings, but what they saw left them shocked.
None of them dared to speak; they blanched and looked briefly into each other's eyes.
Odin searched Frigga with his gaze to make her explain what was happening, but the queen remained motionless, lips tight, muscles contracted.
" What did you see?"
" My queen, my king. " the eldest of the five priests present said in a firm tone. " I am afraid it is not appropriate to speak now. Allow me to return more calmly in a few days. "
" Sigurd. " the queen asked, rising from her chair as she nursed her newborn. " What did you see? Speak to me, please, and do not lie to me. "
The priest swallowed, visibly distressed. Nervous drops of sweat beaded his forehead wrinkled with advanced age.
Frigga's personal handmaids quickly exited with their heads down, after the hand gesture made by the king suggested that their presence was unwelcome.
" Come on Sigurd, don't keep us waiting. " Odin urged him, clutching the spear with which he commanded and led his people.
" What I have seen is a dark future of doom and betrayal, death and suffering. "
AllFather whitened and clutched Gurgnir even more tightly as if the object were a pillar of support to hold on to so as not to fall.
Frigga barely trembled and clutched the child to himself in a maternal and protective gesture. She loved him as her own blood child, carried in her womb and born of her. Her eyes rested on Loki's innocent and peaceful face and she became convinced that what he had said could not be true.
" My queen, such a vision is something never seen before. "
The priest stretched out his trembling hands toward the woman, but recoiled when he saw the child almost as if it were a frightening monster to run from. His face was disfigured with a grimace of horror, anguish, fear.
Even Odin stood petrified not knowing what to do. He turned toward his young wife who did not seem to transpire the anguish she surely felt. She was strong his queen, much stronger than he was.
" And what would you have seen that was so nefarious? " Frigga took a step closer, back straight and gaze lit with a longing for knowledge my sight.
She had to know. She had to.
Sigurd brought his arms along his sides and recomposed himself, swallowing and taking a big breath.
" The prophecy, my queen, shall be fulfilled. "
" What prophecy?" she asked in a higher tone of voice exasperated by that expectation.
" The Ragnarok. "
The ancient prophecy of the world's destruction had now been revealed. A tomb-like silence fell in the room. No one dared to move, to breathe.
Frigga widened his eyes and his lower lip began to tremble.
" He will be the one to bring Ragnarok. By his hand Asgard will fall and from its ashes a new kingdom will rise. "
Loki suddenly began to cry in despair as if he understood that the priest's words were addressed to him, filled with a resentment he had never felt before.
Frigga lulled him, whispered to him to be good and that nothing bad would ever happen to him.
Odin had to take a few seconds to recover, annihilated by what had been so confidently foretold.
When everyone came out the king turned to the woman and asked her what she thought, if she really could believe what had been.
" Prophecies are but glimpses of a future not yet written. " she said, looking at him with those blue eyes so determined. " And an unwritten future can be changed. "
She had said those words with extreme confidence because she was truly convinced. She had seen many times how her visions did not come true in the same way or even took a completely different turn.
The Norns spin destiny on their great web, but an embroidery can be changed or destroyed if desired.
Therefore over the years he prayed to the Norns that they would be lenient in weaving Loki's destiny. The more the years passed the more she realized that the cloth was showing what the prophecies wanted to happen. A sharper and sharper pattern that even Frigga, in passing, could glimpse.
And in the last days this drawing was showing the details of how Asgard would fall.

*

The banquet hall was filled with voices and laughter. The long tables were set with all kinds of food from all over the Nine Kingdoms. The scent of barbecued meat and freshly baked bread wafted throughout the hall and then outside to the outside.
Fine wine from Vanheim and apple cider from Asgard flowed freely.
Loki had attended hundreds of banquets, and all were always held in the same way. There was eating to the point of overindulgence, drinking to the point of fainting, and then singing, dancing and brawling.
The guests had already raised their elbows for a while and the commotion was beginning to become sustained.
Sylvie looked out the doorway and observed Odin's guests: mostly warriors, soldiers and Valkyries. They seemed to be having a great time, and a bard in the center of the room was singing and telling stories of how Bor had founded Asgard and been involved in epic battles against dragons, sea monsters, and giant serpents.
Loki at her side rested a hand on her shoulder and leaned close to her ear. " We are just wayfarers who have brought their tributes to the king. Just play along. "
" I remember that you are the one who likes to be the center of attention. " she whispered, barely turning around and seeing him smile in amusement.
" We are his guests this evening. Enjoy the food and hospitality that the Æsir know how to offer. " he said, letting go of her shoulder and entering first. Sylvie followed him not before taking a breath and mingling with those who should be her people, but whom she did not actually feel she belonged to.
Loki entered with a firm, proud stride, as he always did at the time when he was in the role Odin had always held for him: general of the armed forces and commander. He usually entered wearing his drawn armor and helmet with long golden horns under his arm. He was born to be king and to command an army, and he always made sure it was understood. Every step, every look, every movement reminded anyone of his role.
That role was printed there too, in a time when no soldier served him or even wore armor to remind him. But it was so intrinsic to his being that even through those utterly anonymous and simple clothes one could see who he was and what he had been forced to become.
Indeed, it did not go unnoticed as some of those present turned and stared at him as he walked to an empty table at the back of the room. He walked like the prince he had been, proud of the role he had played in Father Everything's court.
He sat down at the bench and Sylvie stood in front of him with a wrinkled look on her face.
" Everyone is looking at you. " she said in a low voice, admonishing him for obviously doing the opposite of what he had said just before leaving their room, which was to go unnoticed. But then again, she must have imagined that since she knew how much he loved having eyes on him. It had been enough to see him on the Ark as they tried to escape from Lamentis as mere passengers, after he had clearly assured her that he would be inconspicuous, that she found him drinking and engaging the guests in typical Asgardian song and dance. She recalled how she wanted to throttle him and that because of him they were discovered and forced to flee. 
" Relax, everyone is already half drunk. They didn't notice anything. " he said quietly, drumming his fingers on the table and smiling slyly at her.
Sylvie ran her fingers over her forehead and sighed. She wanted to retort that for once she could put her phantom stealth skills into action, but two mugs full of mead were placed in front of each other.
Loki raised his mug and turned to Odin sitting across the room, shouting, " Lange leve kongen! " (Long live the king!)
Those present raised their cups in turn and repeated the same words in one exultant shout.
Sylvie did not miss the look Loki briefly gave Odin before uttering the greeting in the language of the Æsir. A light made of defiance mixed with rancor lit his green eyes, making her realize that that wish was not sincere at all.
The woman picked up her mug and began to down her cider.  With the back of her hand she wiped her mouth.
"You wretch," mimicked Loki with his lips upon seeing the empty mug and laughed at the dirty look she gave him.
" You drink like a man. " he said amused.
Sylvie leaned back and glared at him. " Do you want to have a drinking contest? "
" You would lose miserably. " he said wetting his lips. " Thor, Sif, and I regularly challenged each other after battles, and guess who always won. "
She raised an eyebrow. " No kidding. Then you'll have no problem challenging a woman. Or maybe you're afraid?"
He glared at her and smiled. " Me, afraid?" he said and began to drink from his mug so fast he had no time to breathe. Once empty he slammed it down on the table and incited the servants to refill it.
The challenge began, which lasted as long as it took for a group of fighters not to gather around them inciting the best.
" Do you give up?" asked Loki seeing her barely swaying and wavering in grasping the full mug. He also felt the alcohol going to his head, but he was still in full possession of his faculties and found it amusing to see Sylvie begin to stagger. Although he would never admit it for anything in the world, he realized that he missed certain facets of his life in Asgard.
" Drink! Drink! " they all shouted in chorus, holding their mugs up in turn.
" I never give up. " mumbled the girl, looking at him defiantly. She was stubborn and proud; she would never give up on him by surrendering.
Suddenly a powerful, calloused hand rested on Loki's shoulder, causing him to stiffen immediately.
A warrior lowered himself to the level of his ear. He smelled terribly of alcohol and sweat.
" You have a pretty good girlfriend, stranger. "
" Remove that hand immediately or I will cut it off, " he hissed icily.
The man laughed and tightened his grip even more. " I touch whoever I want whenever I want. "
Loki with a quick gesture took his hand and twisted his wrist so hard that he groaned in pain. The man had to kneel down when the trickster turned toward him.
" Repeat if you dare. "
" You certainly don't scare me, little boy. " he said with a smile mixed with a grimace of pain.
Loki head-butted him so hard that he fell on his back and heard the man cursing as he held his nose from which blood was pouring out copiously. The others who watched the scene said nothing, merely drinking and cackling in amusement.
" What a bunch of idiots. "
When he turned back Sylvie had gotten up. He searched for her with his eyes and saw her standing at a wooden pillar.
A warrior twice the size of the one before approached her, standing in front of her and preventing her from leaving.
" A girl like you should not drink so much. " he said lasciviously, smiling winking at her.
Sylvie ignored him by turning away making him realize that she wanted to be left alone. She had nausea and a headache and the last thing on her mind was interacting with someone like him.
The man paid no heed to the woman's attempts to send him away. " You are very pretty. Why don't you come with me instead of being with that pale little guy? "
Sylvie huffed thinking about how men were all the same and tried to move away, but he grabbed her by the arm.
" Where do you think you're going? "
A dagger flew straight sticking into the wood, exactly between their faces.
A decidedly unfriendly Loki materialized behind the warrior.
" The lady is not interested in your intentions. Get out of the way if you don't want to end badly. "
" And what do you plan to do? " he sneered in response.
Loki grabbed his head and slammed it on his own knee, then dropped him to the ground. Another approached with the intent to avenge his friend and took a knee in the stomach. He went to clash against another warrior sitting at a bench and the latter stood up, grabbing his friend by the leather vest. He punched him in the nose and in no time a fight started.
Loki easily dodged blows made heavy and slow by too much alcohol. He avoided axes, swords, and clubs and inflicted blows with surgical precision, fast, without smearing.
From the back of the huge hall a table had Odin, Frigga and their two sons as guests.
Odin tapped the mug on the table repeatedly while laughing.
" I like the way the stranger fights . He is strong! "
Loki did not miss the sentence said by his adoptive father.
He gave him a dirty look as he dodged yet another blow. Then a wry smile rippled his lips.
Do you like the way I fight, father? Too bad you never told me.
Frigga looked around the room in annoyance, and Thor kept asking his father if he could join the fight. Loki for his part, sitting apart from his mother, gave him a hint of a smile.
The god of Mischief grew tired of all the revelry and decided it was time to move away. He took Sylvie by the arm and dragged her away, out of the room.

The fresh evening air was definitely a boon. The hubbub of the banquet guests was far away and lost among the sounds of nature that the night was beginning to awaken.
Sylvie staggered a little mind walking beside him and Loki rolled his eyes wondering why she had to challenge him knowing she would lose miserably.
" Why did you take me out? It was funny. " she giggled, looking at him with shining eyes.
" You're drunk. "
" Maybe a little. " she said clinging to his arm to keep her balance. Suddenly she became serious and pushed him away. " And I can defend myself anyway. "
" You were in obvious difficulty. " he replied calmly. " But if you want next time I'll leave you with him. "
Sylvie put her hands on her hips and smiled mischievously at him. " Are you jealous, Silver Tongue? "
Of course he was jealous that they had been watching her all along and it was obvious that the moment he had seen that soldier touching her and talking to her in such a lascivious way he had snapped without even thinking twice. Sylvie could defend herself just fine on her own, but she had seen for years how soldiers behaved in distant lands, long away from home, with local women and prisoners. When she saw him clutch her wrist with his filthy hand he had to force all her self-control to aim at the column and not at the center of his head.

They walked for a while until they reached the stables. Loki caught a glimpse of a black thoroughbred in an isolated stall dedicated to him and approached.
The horse at first became agitated at the sight of the man approaching, but after sniffing him he allowed himself to be petted.
" It's been a while since we've seen each other, hasn't it? " he murmured as she stroked his muzzle.
" He won't let anyone touch that horse. "
A child's voice came from behind him. He turned and saw his child self standing not far away. He had a conspicuous patch on his right cheek.
" You have a beautiful horse. " he said simply, turning away from the animal.
" As beautiful as he is stubborn. "
The child looked around, as if uncomfortable being there alone with two people he did not know. After a brief silence he resumed speaking.
" You are good at fighting. " he said hesitantly for a moment when he lowered his gaze. " For a peasant. "
Loki sketched a crooked smile.
" Never underestimate by appearances "
" I, on the other hand, will never be good " sighed the young prince. " I have not yet learned to handle a sword well, nor an axe. " he murmured, looking at an undefined spot to his right.
Loki remembered well how he felt, the sense of inferiority that enveloped him and forced him to come to terms with his inability to match others. He was not skilled with either weapons or seidr and was therefore in a limbo in which, in fact, he felt unable to do anything. Seeing that look reminded him of why he had worked with all of himself to learn how to use the one thing he felt he was suited for: the magical arts. Even though he was teased about it, even though his father reminded him every single day that he was a warrior first.
He approached him and with a wave of his hand materialized a dagger. It was beautiful with its bronze handle covered with carvings and the blade glistening under the moonlight.
"Here, try this," he said, handing him the handle.
The child raised a confused eyebrow.
" What would I do with a dagger? "
" If you are not yet skilled in fighting, perhaps it is because you have not yet found your weapon. "
" The dagger is a woman's weapon, " he replied visibly annoyed.
" It is not always necessary to use powerful and strong weapons to win. " He materialized a dagger, which he threw at a tree, sticking into the bark. The tip pierced the head of a lizard perfectly in the center. " If you learn to be fast, cunning and invisible nothing can defeat you. " he said smugly and saw his younger self looking up to him.
" You are also a magician! I'm learning to use magic too you know!"
He tried handling the dagger in his hand and saw that he indeed already had some confidence.
" Thor says a true warrior must know how to use weapons, real weapons, not magic tricks. "
Loki huffed. " Don't listen to that pentapalm Thor, his brain is the size of a walnut. What do you want him to understand about seidr? "
The child smiled and was about to say something when he was interrupted.
" Loki! "
A little girl ran toward them. She was about the young prince's age and was quite distressed. Her blond braid was tousled and her cheeks were red with breathlessness.
" I've been looking all over for you, what are you doing? "
" These are man things that don't concern you. "
The child sulked, but it was short-lived because her attention was caught by the dagger in her hand.
" What is it? "
" A dagger " he said hastily, trying to hide it from his sight.
" Wow...can I see it? "
" No!"
" Come on! Please! " she whimpered, jumping impatiently.
The baby held it high above her head so she couldn't reach it.
" This is not for you, Sigyn. Move over! " he yelled, holding her away with his hand.
" You are bad! I want to see! I'll tell your mother! "
" Don't you dare! "
Sylvie was not unnoticed by the gasp Loki had at seeing the little girl. When he heard her name his gaze became petrified.
But Sylvie had no idea who she was; she had never heard that name before. She saw the deception god's face turn pale as he kept his eyes fixed on her.
Sigyn stood on tiptoe as she tried to see the dagger held aloft by the young cadet prince. Finally he gave up and sulked.
" If your mother finds out, she will seize it from you. "
" Indeed, she must not know. " he threatened her with a hiss, then hiding the weapon under his clothes.
Sigyn looked at him grimly and sulked, crossing her arms over her chest. She was debating whether to rat him out or keep his secret as well. Finally she took his hand and began to pull him toward the banquet hall.
" Come on, they will be looking for us. "
They saw the two children run off holding hands, or rather, Sigyn held him tightly as Loki tried to wriggle out of their grasp.
Sylvie saw the two children move away and instinctively put a hand on the man's elbow.
" You made him happy with that dagger. " she said, barely smiling.
" Let's just say I wish someone had told me something like that rather than having to learn it myself. " Loki replied without stopping to look at the spot where the two children ran off.
Sylvie moistened her lips before saying what was buzzing in her head as soon as she saw Loki's gaze change so suddenly. Few times had she seen him stiffen like that, as if a shadow veiled his otherwise always unflappable gaze.
" Loki..." she murmured tightening her grip on his arm thus forcing the god of deception to look at her. " Who is Sigyn? "
Loki watched her for an interminable time. Sylvie saw in his eyes so green as to be almost transparent a different look, full of shadows long concealed in his soul. The months they had spent together had led her to recognize how his cold cynicism and apparent detachment was nothing but a mask, a lie, aimed at keeping up the facade of cruel manipulative liar. She had seen him take off his mask and show the true side of himself only once when he stopped her from killing He Who Remains and told her that the only thing he wanted was for her to be well. She had never received so much consideration from anyone. It had been inevitable to push him into a portal and prevent him from dying at her hands.
Even at this moment she saw something in his eyes. Something concrete, painful, lacerating.
Perhaps, just once, he could reveal to her something about his past so painful that it would break him.
Maybe, just once, he had decided to share his pain with someone.
And maybe, he would not lie to her.
But she was wrong.
" No one important. Just a little girl who lived at court. " he replied atonously, coldly.
Loki jerked away from Sylvie's grip, which had suddenly become searing. He did not want to hear from anyone, only to clam up in the hard shell of indifference he had built over time.
And this time Sylvie did not inquire further.
It was late at night when they decided to return, and the cackling from the banquet hall had certainly not abated.
They walked down the long stone corridor and Sylvie looked with curiosity at everything around her: from paintings and statues to sumptuous carpets and tapestries.
Before they could enter their room Frigga's voice made them gasp.
"Come in. " she sentenced with an order.
When they were inside she closed the door behind them and turned the key.
" Now you two tell me exactly who you are and what you want. And if you dare to lie to me, I swear I will find a way to get the words out of your mouths. "

New York, year 2015

Bruce rubbed his eyes exhausted. He did not feel like standing there alone with that scepter or even working for so many hours. He didn't want to wake him up.
But he had to understand what was going on; by now it had become his cankerworm, his fixed thought.
Hearing the conversation between Thor and Loki had been difficult, more because of the tension in the room where all the Avengers were gathered than anything else. Already from the words Jarvis had spoken, he had realized that there was something strange when he said that the scepter was looking for its owner across time and universes. It was absurd, totally crazy. They were talking about dimensions and spaces outside all scientific logic.
He huffed.
By now there was nothing absurd after all he had seen in recent years, especially after learning that there were inhabited planets beyond Earth one of which was populated by Viking gods that he thought were only relegated to myth and poems.
He took off his glasses and rubbed his tired, reddened eyes. It was very late, probably everyone was already asleep, so he would finish taking the last notes on a mathematical formula he was studying with Tony and then go to rest.
As he wrote he felt a chill run down his spine.
He was not alone, he sensed it from the sense of anguish and coldness that pervaded him until he took his eyes off the notepad and looked up.
He turned slowly and saw a figure in the shadows who began to move forward until he reached the faint light cast by the lamp on the desk.
" You..." he muttered in anguish as he saw who was in front of him. He could not believe it.
" Bruce, it's good to see you again. Long time no see. " he said, displaying a grin as sharp as a razor blade.
Banner suddenly stood up and opened his mouth to let out a scream, but he did not have time to utter any sound that he suddenly felt weak, growing weaker and weaker, until he collapsed to the ground. He tried to stay awake, but the feeling of exhaustion and fatigue was too strong and he had to give in and close his eyes.
" Better not wake up your green friend. " said the figure stepping over the scientist's body and approaching the power source he craved so much. He observed it for a brief moment before grabbing the scepter, which immediately emitted a brighter blue light.
A smirk painted itself on his lips.
" At last you are back in my hands. "

Chapter Text

The tension hovering in the room was so oppressive it could be cut with a knife.

Sylvie felt the threatening gaze that the queen of Asgard was turning on both of them, and it was instinctive for her to look to Loki for a sign, a gesture, with which he indicated that he had everything under control. But he was motionless, tense, and did not take his eyes off Frigga's blue ones.

" I have had visions. " the queen said in a grave voice after locking the door behind her. " Nefarious visions of great pain and suffering. I saw Asgard fall and you two were present. "

Frigga's visions were glimpses of an uncertain future, often fickle and not always interpretable. It was she who had reassured him when as a child Loki discovered the nefarious vision foretold at his birth. He discovered it secretly, hearing some handmaids talking along with the servants about the horrible truth that the queen was keeping hidden from everyone.

" No one is predestined to accomplish anything he has not already decided to accomplish, Loki. " she told him softly when she saw the second son running to her to ask if what he had heard was true.

" But they said it will happen. I will be the one to bring the Ragnarok. " he said desperately, barely trying to hold back tears.

" It will happen only if you are the one who wants it to happen. Many visions are inaccurate and change with time. The Norns spin a destiny that can be changed and destined for something different. "

Frigga hadn't had any visions about her children's future for a long time. This reassured her that perhaps something had changed. But just when she least expected it, one night she was struck by a nightmarish vision so distressing that it took her breath away. She felt suffocated by a painful tightness in her chest, as if the dream could really grab her and squeeze her. In the dream, Asgard was in flames, the people were fleeing in despair, and Thor was lying on the ground. She only remembered seeing two green eyes, a cruel grin, and an amount of seðr released that left her dazed.

She guessed who it was—it didn't take long to figure out—but she refused to believe what she felt and perceived.

She had this dream the night before.

She woke up with a start and, her heart still pounding, ran to her children's rooms to make sure they were okay, that everything was as usual. She found both Loki and Thor sleeping peacefully in their beds, serene and calm as every night.

This made her breathe a sigh of relief, but she was not at all calm. She could not fall back asleep because she kept mulling over what she had seen and why she had seen it right now.

She spent the next morning with a veil of worry clouding her clear eyes and dimming her usual sweet and friendly smile. Odin didn't notice anything, preoccupied with urgent matters to deal with at the northernmost borders of the kingdom. Frigga mentally thanked the gods that she didn't have to explain to anyone else what was troubling her so deeply.

As the day wore on, her distress gradually subsided, but when the guard warned her of two strangers at the entrance, her heart began to beat faster. She almost ran to the entrance, holding her skirts with her hands for ease and praying that it was not what she thought it was.

When she arrived in front of the imposing golden gates decorated with finely crafted carvings, Frigga froze. And not because her son ran towards her wounded and dirty, but because of the way the man on horseback looked at her.

His eyes, green and cold as a stormy sea, sent a deep shiver down her spine.

They were so similar to those she had seen in her nightmare.

“I think you're confusing me with someone else, Queen of Asgard,” said Loki calmly, taking a step closer.

“Stop,” she ordered, materializing a sword and pointing it at him. “Dare to take another step and you'll see what happens.”

Loki had never seen his mother so determined to fight. She had the look of an Aesir warrior ready to strike and defend.

“I don't want to fight,” replied the deceiver cautiously, taking another step toward her with his hands raised in a sign of peace.

Frigga narrowed her eyes. “Who are you? Why have you come here?” She took a defensive stance and stepped back.

“We are not a threat. We are just passing through.”

“If you don't want to tell me the truth, I'll find a way to make you talk." 

Frigga lunged at Loki, who materialized a sword to parry the blow above his head. She moved nimbly despite her long dress, and Loki remembered the times he practiced with her.

He parried and dodged, defending himself and avoiding blows, careful not to hit her. One thing he would never do, contrary to what many were convinced he would surely do, was use a weapon against his mother. He would rather be struck dead than even touch her.

Frigga took advantage of his hesitation to evade his defense and kick him in the leg, causing him to fall to the ground.

Loki found himself lying on his back with the tip of the sword a few inches from his throat.

“Are you going to talk?” she looked at him with eyes full of anger, fear, and despair.

He, on the other hand, sneered. “If you want to kill me, do it.”

“As you wish,” she hissed, gripping the hilt of the sword with both hands and preparing to strike him. Just before the blade sank into his chest, Sylvie screamed.

“Loki!”

Frigga froze and stared at him in amazement. He looked at her and trembled slightly. “What did you say?”

Loki stood up and approached the woman, taking the sword from her hands and throwing it to the ground.

“It's me, mother,” he said softly. He wanted to touch her, but he didn't have the courage to do so, as if he were afraid of ruining everything again.

“How... it's impossible,” she murmured, trying to make sense of it all. She approached him and took his face in her hands, touching the scar on his cheek with her fingers and recognizing his green eyes, identical to those of her son.

“I come from the future. We traveled through time,” he said simply, pulling away from her touch.

They explained to her about time travel through portals, the Sacred Timeline, the Variants, and how everything was going well on Midgard until he started having nightmares that kept him awake at night, forcing him to find out the cause.

“What a controversial story,” she said finally, sitting down in the armchair by the window. She looked out at the clear sky lit by the full moon, thoughtful and worried at the same time.

“Something is threatening my timeline, and I have to find out why,” he said, beginning to pace around the room.

“I didn't think time travel was possible. There are numerous theories about it, but nothing certain,” Frigga sighed after a brief silence. “It's dangerous to play with time. The repercussions can be lethal.”

The queen nodded and looked out the window again, lost in thought.

“Loki says someone is following us,” said Sylvie, breaking the silence that had suddenly become too heavy. She saw how Loki pulled away from Frigga's touch and the coldness he showed towards her, as if he wanted to detach himself completely from something that would only make him feel bad. His gaze and gestures were indecipherable even to her, who, despite knowing him only briefly and sharing even less of his life, was part of him in a way that was completely new and old at the same time, unexpected and unpredictable. Yet she could understand him completely, in his entirety and complexity, because Loki was nothing more than the part of herself that she had always missed. She understood him in a way that was so painful and profound that it often left her breathless.

Now, however, he had donned a new armor, hard and relentless, that gave no one any way of understanding what he really felt.

Sylvie knew about the turn that the relationship between him and her mother had taken over time. It was a harsh and unexpected turn, made up of guilt and remorse. He had mentioned to her only once what he had seen of his future, stolen fragments of a time that did not yet belong to him. He had woken up with a start in the middle of the night, distraught and gasping for breath, with Sylvie beside him asking him what he had dreamed that was so distressing. He told her that he kept seeing that damned scene over and over again, burned into his mind like a hot brand. The harsh words in which he disowned Frigga as his mother, erasing centuries of unconditional love, and how he was directly responsible for her death. He never revealed to her what exactly he saw in that TVA room when he was left alone with the videos of his future, but the remorse for what he was about to do gave him no respite.

Frigga did not fail to notice his hesitation in approaching her, nor his pulling away from her touch. But she did not try to insist or force things in any way because she understood that something was deeply troubling him.

The man before her had none of the innocence and carefreeness of the child sleeping in the room just beyond. He had lost that light that illuminated his childlike gaze as he discovered the world, its knowledge, and its complexity.

“We don't have much time left, mother. Whoever is following us is altering my timeline, and if I don't stop them, they could erase it forever,” said the deceiver in a hoarse voice. “We've already been to Jotunheim.”

Frigga's eyes widened in an expression somewhere between surprise and shock.

He knew. Loki knew about his origins, and this left her feeling bitter and relieved at the same time. She had wanted so much to tell him. She had always imagined the day when, one way or another, he would be forced to come to terms with his true nature. Odin had forbidden her to reveal to him what he really was, who he really belonged to. And over the years, it was becoming an increasingly unbearable burden, a weight that enveloped and suffocated her amid the eternal indecision of deciding what was best for him.

“What did you see?” she asked in a low voice, searching his eyes for an answer she would never receive. Loki sighed and looked away to meet Sylvie's gaze, who responded by approaching him and touching him lightly, in an imperceptible way.

Frigga softened her gaze, but did not abandon her tense and worried expression, and rose from her chair, approaching them. With an elegant gesture of her hand, she produced a rolled-up parchment, which she gave to the deceiver.

“Now that I think about it, something strange did happen,” she said seriously. “I received this message from Eldred, master of seiðr, asking that Loki become his pupil. He is a respected and well-known master, but he has never wanted to meet me in person despite my insistence. ”

“I had the opportunity to meet Eldred some time ago, on one of my travels through the Nine Realms, but I have never been his pupil.”

Loki opened the parchment and read the few lines written in simple, careful language, expressing admiration for Odin's young son, who was so gifted in seidr despite his young age. He respectfully and kindly asked the queen of Asgard if he could have the cadet prince as his pupil. He would be honored, he read.

What struck him was not the words, but the elegant and precise handwriting that he recognized from the letter that Fàrbauti herself had received. It was the same person who wanted him, who craved him. He could tell from the urgency with which those words resonated on the paper. He had been polite and kind, but firm in his decision. He was determined to teach Loki of Asgard everything he knew.

He passed the letter to Sylvie and looked back at Frigga.

“Mother, this letter does not belong to Eldred. The person who sent you this message is the same person who sent a similar letter to Fàrbauti. He is looking for me and wants me.”

Frigga held back her dismay at the name of the queen of Jotunheim, masking it with a serious and indecipherable expression.

“Why on earth would it want you?” she whispered, twisting the beautiful diamond on her left ring finger, given to her by Odin many centuries ago when she was presented to him as his betrothed. “Why take a child?”

Loki rubbed his tired eyes. He wanted to think, but the pounding headache had been giving him no respite for several hours. He had drunk mead mixed with herbs he had found after sneaking into the healing room in the hope of alleviating his fatigue and relieving his throbbing migraine. Now the effect was wearing off and his body was sending him warning signals that he needed rest.

“How long have you been awake?” asked Frigga with the innate concern of a mother faced with the slightest signs of discomfort on her son's face. She touched his sharp face with her fingertips, and Loki strangely did not flinch.

“I don't have time now. The matter is urgent and serious.”

“You need to rest now. We need you to be clear-headed and focused,” said the queen in a firm but loving tone. She had often been more assertive with Loki than with Thor, because she had tasted his rebellious spirit.

Not that he was bad or anything, but he was simply discovering his true nature, that of a people without rules or laws. He was educated according to the rules of the Asgardians, with their customs and traditions, yet feeling that rules were a cage rather than protection was an iconic characteristic of the Jotnar.

Frigga considered him an Aesir in every respect, but his blood called out to his true origins.

“Rest. We'll talk about it tomorrow morning.”

The deceiver sighed and hesitated for a moment about whether to obey his mother's advice. He was indeed exhausted, and it was pointless to think and reason at that moment. The next day he would be more rested and could think about what to do.

With a brief nod, he took his leave of his mother and headed for his room, closing the door behind him.

“I think the only person he obey without question is you,” said Sylvie after a brief silence in which she watched the queen of Asgard sit down.

Frigga smiled wistfully. “I learned long ago how to approach him. It takes patience.” She raised her clear eyes to her and invited her to take a seat in the upholstered chair opposite her.

Sylvie accepted the invitation and sat down, but she did not relax. She was still on guard as always, unaccustomed to allowing herself moments of tranquility. Everything was a potential threat to her, even if it was the mother she would have had if she had been in that timeline. She admired the elegance with which she wore that long dress adorned with lace on the sleeves and bodice, the beautiful emerald necklace around her neck, which she had matched with identical pendants. Her long, blonde hair was braided into a simple but elegant hairstyle that highlighted her slender, perfect neck. She was truly beautiful. Looking at her, Sylvie wondered if the mother she had left behind in that now irretrievably erased timeline was like that too. Beautiful, sweet, loving, strong, courageous.

It had been a long time since her face had become a blurred and indistinct smudge in her memory. She only remembered her bright blue eyes, the warm hugs that comforted her when she played and fell and came back with a skinned knee. She remembered the sweet scent of flowers she usually wore and realized that Frigga now had the exact same scent. Smelling this scent again brought back distant memories of a time when she too had a place to call home. She swallowed a couple of times to try to loosen the lump in her throat.

“Here, have something warm to drink.” In an instant, two steaming cups of herbal tea appeared on the table.

Sylvie brought the cup to her lips and tasted its slightly bitter, herbaceous flavor.

“Dear, tell me something about yourself.” Frigga did not drink, but simply looked at her and gave her a brief smile. She saw something unfamiliar in her, yet familiar, as if she had known her all her life. It was a strange feeling that left the queen troubled.

Sylvie was surprised by the question. Why did she want to know more about her? What were her transparent eyes scrutinizing that she couldn't see?

She licked her lips and looked down at the steaming cup.

“Loki avoided talking about you. I'd like to get to know you,” Frigga continued, softening her tone of voice, realizing that Sylvie was elusive and perpetually defensive, just like him.

“There's not much to say, really.”

The queen waited patiently for the young girl to express her thoughts. She was beautiful, but different from the classic ladies she was used to seeing walking in the corridors of the palace. Her toned physique, attentive gaze, and posture typical of someone ready to spring into action in case of danger were very reminiscent of Sif. Was she also a warrior woman?

From the way they looked at each other, Frigga immediately sensed the understanding between them. Loki looked at her when she asked him about Jotunheim, as if seeking support and help from Sylvie for what he had seen and faced.

It didn't take her long to understand the feeling that bound them together, united them, and this gave her a sweet taste of relief. The very few who knew who Loki really was still gave her brief glances of pity and compassion. They accused her of making a wrong and reckless choice in raising him in the palace as a prince. He was supposed to live on the margins of the court, as a servant of his king, not his equal. He was supposed to be the trophy brought to Asgard that symbolized Odin's strength, presented to the people as his spoils of war. Spoils that showed how powerful, just, and merciful Odin was to be able to steal Laufey's son and keep him as blackmail.

Nothing went as planned because Frigga intervened for the first time and dissuaded her husband from doing what others expected him to do as king. What she did not know, and would only understand much later, was that keeping him completely in the dark about everything was the incurable wound that completely distanced him from what he had always believed to be true, familiar, and rightfully his.

“We always have something to talk about.” The queen took her cup and barely wet her lips. “But it's not always easy, I realize that.”

Sylvie didn't know what to say. It was difficult even to think about talking about herself, about what she had been through, about what she had seen in all these years as a fugitive. Not even Loki knew about certain dynamics that had led her to trust no one but herself.

“I lost everything. Everything I loved was taken away from me.”

Frigga looked down thoughtfully. “I'm sorry.”

Sylvie saw her sincere regret, which left her with a bitter taste in her mouth. Frigga knew how to be sincere, empathetic, loving. She understood why Loki was so fond of her, perhaps because she was the only one who never made him feel bad about being different from others.

“She was the kind of person who believed in you,” the trickster once told her, looking down. “She always saw the good in others, even in those who were considered lost causes.”

Whether she was referring to him she never knew, but she could guess by the way he avoided looking at her, by the hard line of his lips and the drumming of his fingers on the table. He grew somber, thoughtful, then changed the subject.

If he had told her anything about Thor over time -about what they often fought about or why they ended up at each other's hands in one way or another- his mother always remained a difficult, sensitive subject. And certainly seeing her again after so long was something that troubled him deeply even though he apparently gave the impression that everything was under control. But from the way he had moved away from her something made her sense that he was struggling with deep and conflicting feelings.

They remained silent for a long moment, both absorbed in their own thoughts. Frigga smoothed her long braid in slow, steady movements, looking at an unspecified spot behind Sylvie's back. She thought about what she had seen in passing, in the brief moment when she brushed against the scar on Loki's right cheek. It was only a moment, a very brief hint, but it was enough to feel what he never wanted to feel even though he knew in his heart what fate would have in store for him.

“I saw so much darkness inside him. A heart full of resentment, anger, revenge.“ Frigga said in a low voice, stopping herself from tormenting the braid. Her eyes glazed with liquid melancholy wondering what they had done wrong with him, what she had done wrong. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again and finally returned to look at Sylvie, staring into her green eyes. “But there is still good in him, I can feel it.”

Sylvie had seen in the Void countless variations of them. They were evil, thirsty for revenge, selfish and with delusions of omnipotence. They manipulated, plagued and subjugated anyone who had the unfortunate opportunity to cross their path. All of them had tried to harm her, directly or indirectly, because it was in their nature to do so. But the Loki who had thwarted her plans and tried to stop them was the same one who had grabbed her by the shoulders and revealed to her what he really thought, deep down, sincere.

“I just want you to be okay.“ he told her, and for Sylvie it was the moment when she understood many things. No one had ever said such a thing to her. No one had ever even considered trying to approach her, to understand her. Loki had, however, and that led her to find the one person in the universe who, yes, just wanted her to be okay.

“He did horrible, unspeakable things.“ said Sylvie and saw Frigga stiffen. “He is still paying for his mistakes and for some he will live with them all his life.”

The queen opened her mouth to say something, but stopped, unable to formulate anything meaningful. She was visibly upset while maintaining an elegant composure befitting her rank. Sylvie had not wanted to mince words because Frigga did not deserve to be deluded. She could not tell her something false just to make her comfortable. After all, she had already seen part of what Loki was, of what the child sleeping placidly in her room would become.

“Yet without him I would not be here. Alive.”

Those words redeemed Frigga from the deep disturbance she had fallen into, wondering and speculating what would happen from there on out. She would have liked to know, to ask, but she was aware that she could not know what would happen in the future. To change events would have been a grave mistake.But she knew now that behind the darkness she had seen was something good. Hidden, sunk in hatred and revenge, but it was there. Small and frail and weak, Frigga had seen it. How she had glimpsed the feeling that bound him to the young girl in front of him there. She was the reason why behind that darkness lurked that faint little light he had sensed. 

She turned a hint of a smile to her and grabbed her hand, squeezing it between his soft, warm ones. Sylvie gasped at that unexpected gesture and felt the grip tighten, desperate.

“Take care of him.“ she murmured almost in a plea.

Sylvie merely nodded and Frigga finally released her grip. She stood up and headed for the exit not before turning around one last time.

“I would beg you not to mention our conversation to him. “ she said and without waiting for his response she walked out and closed the door behind her.

Sylvie sighed and ran both hands through her hair.

That conversation was so intense that it left her exhausted. Too many memories flowed into her mind and too many conflicting feelings pervaded her in that long confrontation she had with her.

She yawned for a long time and decided it was time to go to rest.

She entered the room being careful not to make any noise and approached the bed where she saw Loki sleeping soundly. He had probably collapsed as soon as he touched the mattress because he had not even taken off his boots. He had an uneasy air about him, as if he was always at attention and ready to snap in case of danger. Even when he slept he could not be serene.

Sylvie took a blanket from the closet and put it over him being careful not to wake him. Then she took off her boots and lay down beside him. She was so close to his face that she could hear his slow, steady breathing. She enjoyed looking at him, studying the features of his face.

Her eyes were getting heavy, but before she closed them she felt Loki's arm encircling her side. The gesture was involuntary, dictated more by the habit of holding her close than by any awareness of what he was doing.

Sylvie needed to feel him close, to feel safe as never before. Before she met him she had never needed anyone because she had always managed on her own. Now she wanted him to hold him close.

She snuggled against his chest and let his deep breaths cradle her.

She collapsed almost immediately, but not before she heard a sentence Frigga said rumbling in her head.

Take care of him.

Sylvie realized that she had slept late only because the midday sunlight was filtering through the heavy curtains.

She hastily pulled herself up and of course the part of the bed next to her was empty. No note, no warning.

Typical of the god of Mischief not to let her know where he had gone early in the morning.

She stretched like a cat and after opening the curtains enjoyed the rays of Asgard's spring sun tickling her face.

On the table in the center from the living room was a tray with a hearty breakfast.

She smiled and felt her stomach growl with hunger.

The food was delicious. There were buns, pancakes, and fruit.

After eating it was time to look for Loki.

She walked the countless corridors, cursing the god of Mischief for not telling her where he was and how to get there. That palace looked like a labyrinth.

Eventually she found the exit to the gardens and tried to look for him there.

The gardens were immense and beautiful, the ladies strolled quietly gossiping about the latest court news.

Beyond the fountain two children were playing.

One was Loki the other the blond child from the night before, Sigyn.

Sylvie sat on a bench not far away. Her Loki had disappeared who knows where, probably looking for something in some ancient text and it would surely be some time before he reappeared.

“Let's play pretend battle. I am the princess to be saved, you a warrior to look for me.“ Sigyn said. “The fountain is the fiery lake while the big tree is the castle where I am held captive.”

Loki huffed. “This is a stupid game. Why should I save you?”

“Because warriors save princesses.“ she replied with obviousness.

“Warriors kill giants and slaughter trolls, they do not save helpless princesses.“ he retorted.

“That's not true, I've read it in books. There are many stories of princesses rescued and brought home. Now, come here and take this.“ She gave him a wooden sword and pushed him a little farther. Sigyn climbed the tree and waited.

Loki pretended to fight against powerful and terrible monsters, facing obstacles and dangers of various kinds with the imagination that only a child can have.

Eventually he rescued the princess in distress by bringing her down from the tree unharmed.

Sigyn could easily play the part of the lady in distress, even imitating her elegant movements.

“Thank you, my valiant warrior. Now, however, we must give each other the kiss of true love.”

Loki looked at her puzzled. “What? I don't kiss anyone at all and...” he did not finish the sentence that Sigyn gave him a quick kiss on the mouth.

Loki drew back wiped his mouth with his sleeve in disgust.

“How disgusting! I will never kiss a female again!”

Sylvie laughed amused. They were definitely close and there was a certain harmony in their childish ways of approaching each other.

Now that she thought about it, even the night before Sigyn had taken him by the hand to lead him away. This was something she had not paid attention to until that moment.

It was as if the child wanted to make sure that Loki would not run away from her again.

Sylvie did not understand.

Why had Loki never told her about Sigyn?

Why had he told her that he never had any friends in Asgard?

Sigyn blushed as the young cadet prince tried in vain to clean himself. He even went to rinse his mouth in the fountain.

“Hey Sigyn, look here. I need to show you something.“ he said, still looking out over the edge of the fountain.

The child immediately ran, curious about what could be so interesting in the water.

“What?”

Loki with a grin moved his hand and a green light entered the water.

Suddenly a toad came out of the water and fell on Sigyn's head and she let out a scream.

“You are bad! Why do you always play these tricks on me?” she screamed with shining eyes.

Loki was doubled over in laughter. “You should see your face! ”

Sigyn began to sob, and Loki stopped laughing. He became suddenly serious.

“Hey, Sigyn. I didn't mean to make you cry...”

The little girl rushed away and Loki ran after her, trying to stop her.

Always the same, thought Sylvie as she rolled her eyes.

“What are you doing?”

Sylvie gasped in fright.

The trickster appeared behind her, looking at her questioningly.

Sylvie got up from the bench. “You weren't there this morning, and I looked for you all over the building. Finally I stood here and looked...” she turned in the direction where she had seen the two children playing until a moment before, but no one was there.

“ What?” he urged her.

“ Nothing. ”

“ Odin's ravens have left to search for Eldred.” he changed the subject by looking up at the blue sky. “This morning I spoke with the old man. My mother persuaded me to inform him. I had to explain to him who I am and why I am here.“ He returned to look at her and she came closer.

The features of the deceiver's face became taut, rigid. Sylvie could read annoyance, resentment, fury in them. Of all the things that could happen going back in time the most uncomfortable and unwanted one was confronting AllFather. Loki did not want to confront him. He still had too many unfinished accounts, dormant and never resolved grudges that all converged in the haughty parental figure in whom he had always sought, in his one inquiring eye, a modicum of satisfaction with him. A form of approval that never came.

“He remained impassive the whole time. He said nothing, nor did he ask anything else, as if any subordinate who went to report to him was talking to him.” he said in a hoarse voice, feeling anger boiling in his veins again. He certainly didn't expect him to jump for joy at seeing him, but he at least expected him to ask something more, like what role he played in Asgard, what feats he had accomplished on Odin's behalf, how skilled he had become with the use of the seiðr.

Instead, nothing.

He remained sitting on the throne listening to him as he stroked his beard thoughtfully.

“Don't you say anything?“ asked Loki annoyed by the long silence from the god of the gallows. A silence heavy enough to make him impatient.

“I had sensed something strange as soon as I saw you arrive, but I certainly did not imagine that you were my son from the future. Time travel I thought was impossible.”

“I'm here only because it's strictly necessary,“ he asserted, impatient with her arrogant way of posing, of speaking to him with that air of condescension.

“I understood that.“ Odin stood up and descended the stone steps that elevated him above everyone. He stood in front of the man he recognized as his second son, clutching Gunnir and observing him more closely.

Loki felt himself being scrutinized to the core and doubted that he had believed him. Instead Odin seemed to relax his tense muscles and softened the tone of his voice.

“What do you need? You can have access to every wing of the palace and consult all the books you need. The threat you speak of is serious and can affect all of Asgard. ”

Loki maintained a composure typical of the role he held and the rank of prince to which he had never denied belonging, but inside he felt anger igniting every fiber of his being.

He did not need permission to enter the interior of the palace. He had this right from time immemorial and was one of the very few who had permission to enter even the forbidden wing of the library, the one that stored ancient, obscure, dangerous texts. He could read and study whatever he wanted without asking anyone's permission.

What infuriated him even more was that what Odin really cared about was the repercussions on Asgard, his throne, his authority. The kingdom would always come before him.

Sylvie sensed the widening and deepening rift that divided the two men. They were too similar, proud and arrogant to be able to find common ground.

“If Odin does not appreciate you, the problem is his alone. You know it is not.“ she said.

Loki smiled, a tugged, joyless smile. “Do you think I really care about him and what he thinks? I have known for a long time that his favorite son to whom he allowed everything and forgave every mistake was only Thor. I have lived with this knowledge all my life. By now I have accepted it and you know what? I don't give a damn.“ he lied past her and started toward the inside of the building.

Sylvie sighed and followed him.

That afternoon Loki showed her around the palace. He had seen her eyes light up every time she walked through the halls, lingering on the paintings, statues, and frescoes, so he decided to please her by showing her what she deserved to see because of its special beauty. He saw huge halls with frescoed ceilings each depicting a different story, from the birth of the Nine Worlds, to Odin's last great battle against Laufey. He told her the stories behind those paintings made up of adventures, power plays, wars and agreements. His stories were rich in detail, partly because he had always been passionate about the history of Asgard, and partly because some of these exploits he had experienced personally. Sylvie liked to hear him talk. With his hands entwined behind his back he gave the idea of a teacher grappling with his pupils as he taught his favorite subject.

Asgard had a beautiful, long and exciting history, full of epic and sensational events. Yet time and again Loki told her how both Bor, Odin, and himself had to repeatedly act in the shadows to gain the much coveted power and glory. Asgard was a powerful and esteemed kingdom, but part of that strength came from deals made by deception or obtained by threat. They had plundered, stolen, outraged, and defeated countless peoples until Odin decided it was time to enjoy his power and his final years of old age.

“You were in constant rivalry, “ Sylvie said, noting how in her stories, Odin's two sons were in perpetual competition, always ready to step over each other to gain their parent's approval and admiration.

Loki turned a mocking smile on her. “The rivalry allowed us to grow and become stronger and stronger. It was that which made us who we are. For better or for worse.”

They left the palace and went to the beginning of the Bifrost, where he could show her the famous and very special rainbow bridge that he had crossed countless times. Sylvie was amazed at the sheen that bridge gave off, its colors bright enough to seem surreal. Loki told her of the countless times he had crossed the bridge astride his horse for a battle, a mission, or simply because of his innate curiosity to discover the wonders of neighboring worlds.

“Is this where you fell?” She asked in a whisper as she looked out and saw only an expanse of black darkness.

“I let myself fall,“ he clarified impassively. He did not look out lest he see again that darkness that engulfed him long ago, a darkness so lacerating and suffocating that it woke him up in the middle of the night without air, with still the feeling of sinking into the abyss without light and without end.“ But that was a long time ago.“ he said.

“How did you survive ?”

“ Thanos. He found me. “ he answered spicily, closing the subject immediately. It was not something he would ever talk about with anyone, especially letting anyone know everything he had done to ingratiate himself with the Titan. To survive he stooped to do anything.

Last they went down to the trophy room in the dungeon of Asgard.

“ Here are the artifacts taken away as war trophies. “ he said as he descended the stone stairs and passed among the many objects there. There were relics taken from every kingdom, in recent and ancient times. There were weapons, shields, jewelry, artifacts, forbidden books, and the Tesseract. Loki looked at it out of the corner of his eye as they passed it and felt, again, the urge to grab it and take it away. He resisted.

“ I had never seen this room before. “ she said as she looked around in curiosity.

“ I used to sneak in, “ smiled the trickster, stopping then in front of a relic. His smile faded and he suddenly became serious as he gazed at a cube with black edges and a deep blue interior. “ My grandfather Bor was the first to start this tradition and he did so by first taking the chest of the Ancient Winters away from Jotunheim. After a bloody war the Giants took it back until Odin took it back when he defeated Laufey. “ he said in a rough voice, thinning his gaze as blue light reflected in his eyes.

The chest had always aroused great curiosity in him. He remembered the times when Odin, when he and Thor were children, would take them by the hand and lead them before the artifact, reminding them that they were both born to be kings. Thor looked around intrigued more by the spears or swords than by the strange object of no interest at all. Loki, on the other hand, was deeply attracted to it.

He saw in the chest something ancient, magical, familiar, and soon learned to sneak down to admire that very special object. He even had the impression that it was calling him, looking for him. The casket had always aroused in him that something more than mere curiosity, but he never had the courage to touch it. It was one day, many years later, that he had the overwhelming desire to lay his hands on it and find out what dark secret they had always kept from him. That was why he was always so attracted to it. It was his.

Loki brushed the object with his fingertips. He still felt that impulse, much weaker than before, but still there present, attracting him, but he dared not touch it. Sylvie stood beside him and tried to touch the chest, but Loki took her hand.

“ I'd better not. “ he said, taking it away.

“ The things my grandfather Bor took away are much more interesting than Odin's. “ he said as he walked past the other artifacts. “ It had more taste. ”

She had pleasant memories of her grandfather even though they shared little time together. As they walked he told her about Bor.

Bor was Odin's father and, in his later years, spent his time drinking mead and telling anyone who stopped to listen old stories of battles and legendary heroes. He would lose himself away in memories and tales that at some point you could no longer tell if what he was telling really happened or was just a figment of his imagination. 

That is why no one listened to him, until Loki was born.

Bor immediately grew fond of his nephew, who he said was far too bright to be the son of that troglodyte, as he called him, Odin. He often put his mighty, calloused hand on his head and smiled at him, showing his alcohol-ruined teeth and perpetually red cheeks. “ You are smart boy. Finally an intelligent one has come out of this branch of the family. “ then tousled his hair and asked him if he wanted to hear a story about his great-great-grandfather. Enraptured Loki ran to sit on the rug in front of the open fireplace and waited for his grandfather to catch up with his slow pace and get into his chair. As he told one of his endless stories, it was his habit to carve an animal into the wood. Once it was a deer, once a bison, once again a wolf. Then he would give it to his grandson who would then place them in his room on top of a shelf. Loki wondered what happened to them once he left Asgard.

Once they had passed among the most interesting and worthy objects of a particularly compelling story, it was time to leave.

They reached the highest point of the palace from which they could see the sunset behind the fjords that overlooked Asgard Bay. The sun lit the cold, crystal-clear water orange, and a sea breeze gently caressed them.

“ This has always been my favorite spot. “ he said as he sat on the marble balustrade.

He missed Asgard in a painful, nostalgic way. He would never again find a place like that to call home. He had betrayed his home and soon it would be destroyed forever by Ragnarok. He would never again have a place to return to, if he ever had one.

He watched Sylvie sit beside him and wondered if she was what, now, he could call home.

The girl remained silent and observed the horizon.

“ It is very beautiful. “ she said after a while, trying to imprint in her mind the colors and details of that beautiful and wild land. Probably once it was over, she would never see it again, and this gave her an inexplicable sense of despondency. She barely turned toward the man sitting beside her and squeezed the edges of the balustrade so tightly that her knuckles whitened.

“ Today I saw the you child playing with Sigyn. You seemed close-knit. “ she said in a flat tone, looking at the horizon.

Loki sighed. “ What about this? The children play together, that's nothing new to me. ”

“ You made her cry and then immediately ran to apologize. ”

“ Are you jealous? “ he asked, smiling with amusement.

“ No, you idiot. She's a child! “ she blurted out annoyed.

“ Then what is it that you want?” said the trickster suddenly becoming serious. He had already guessed what Sylvie was thinking just from the way she changed the tone of her voice in naming Sigyn.

“ Why are you so elusive, Loki? For every step I take toward you you take three steps back. Was what you told me about your past all a lie?”

The trickster's gaze hardened into a serious, indecipherable expression. “ It doesn't seem to me that you told me everything too, or did you? “ he replied.

“ But I never lied to you. ”

Loki approached and lowered his voice. « You shouldn’t have even been here, Sylvie. I’ve already told you once and I won’t tell you again. Stay out of it. »

« You’ll end up pushing everyone away. Me included. » she said, stepping down from the railing and turning his back on him.

Loki was faced with the awareness of what his actions had always led him to do. Becoming a master at lying and deceiving others was an effective strategy in avoiding falling into traps set by the enemy and more than once he saved his skin only thanks to the skillful use of words and rhetoric. However, he enjoyed it so much that he didn’t limit himself to uncomfortable situations in enemy territory, but also there, in Asgard, and with those who were supposed to be his friends and allies. The three warriors never trusted anything he said or did, Sif hated him for all the times he had tricked her and purposely put her in danger and swore that one day she would sew up his damn mouth, Thor had learned to always watch his back.

He said he was having fun and that they were so stupid that they could never understand when he was making fun of them, but in reality he found himself completely alone. No one wanted to have anything to do with him and often, from afar, he felt their crooked glances looking at him and cursing him for something.

He didn't want to lie to Sylvie, he had promised himself he would never do it with her, and yet he had fallen for it again.

He heard her footsteps moving away and maybe, maybe, he was right. Was he pushing her away?

" Sigyn was the daughter of Odin's most trusted advisor and his longtime friend. We grew up together." he said, watching the sun disappear completely behind the mountains and give way to dusk.

Sylvie turned and waited a few moments before asking him the question she had been waiting to ask him since the day before.

" What happened to her?"

Loki sighed and straightened his back before placing his palms behind him.

" Asgard boasts of being an advanced and progressive kingdom, which is true when compared to Jotunheim or Vanheim." he paused and moistened his lips. "Yet for those of a certain rank, an arranged marriage aimed at asserting power and wealth is inevitable. She was given in marriage to a noble whose name I do not remember and I have never seen her again."

" I'm sorry." he murmured.

Loki laughed. "Why should you be sorry? We only shared childhood, nothing more. » he said, stepping down from the railing and standing in front of her. He touched her cheek with his fingers and smiled at her.

« The only one I’ve ever felt anything for is you, you know that. »

Sylvie nodded and believed him even though a dark shadow never left his green eyes, not even for a moment. She moved her face closer to search for his lips, but just before they touched, a flutter of wings and a croaking startled them.

Huginn and Munin flew close to them and then headed for the throne room through the window.

« The ravens have returned and they do not bring good news. »

Chapter Text

Outside the palace, things were definitely better.
He found it overwhelming to be trapped within those cold, ancient walls. Walls that had hosted stories of great kings and queens who had traversed the immense corridors and majestic rooms.
Even though he knew every single corner, edge or recess inside out, Loki no longer felt that abode -that had welcomed and raised him- as his home.
Everything was different, unfamiliar, unusual, and not just because centuries had passed since he had observed the world as a child with innocent eyes thirsting for curiosity, unaware of what the world could offer, for better or worse, outside the palace.
No, Loki had changed and with it the way he saw things. He could not call Odin father and could not return his mother's affection because of a guilt that, still, inextricably tore at his heart and soul.
His safe haven had never been the walls that had welcomed kings and nobles, warriors and allies who walked the stone corridors passing ancient statues and sacred artifacts. When he wanted to be alone, going out into the open air made the flow of his thoughts smoother. Even now he walked in the clearing just outside the royal palace, skirting the forest that for years welcomed him and Thor in hunting parties, in challenging each other to some test that would exalt the supremacy of one over the other, or simply because they were curious and wanted to find out what was going on around them.
The familiarity of that place made Loki sometimes nostalgic and sometimes annoyed. That was not why he was there. Memories were not what had forced him to leave Midgard to return, but his nightmares. Nightmares that still haunted him and forced him into a restless sleep that was never restful.
He paused and looked at the blue sky above his head devoid of any clouds, a sign that summer was now upon him. Yet he could hear no birdsong, no rustling of leaves moved by the wind, no animals chasing each other among the branches and in the thick underbrush. He heard none of the typical sounds of nature alive and flourishing as it should be at that time of year. There was an unnatural, at times abnormal silence.
The sound of a trampled and broken branch made Loki turn toward the forest that had suddenly become dark and gloomy.
A small, delicate hand rested on his shoulder and a chill ran down his spine.
" You have returned. "
Her warm voice reached his ears softly, exactly as he remembered her. He would have recognized her among a thousand, which is why he closed his eyes and sighed for a long time before turning toward her and meeting her eyes as blue as the summer sea.
" You are not real. " he said in a firm tone.
She did not seem surprised and merely stretched her lips into a smile, showing the pretty dimples that framed her face.
She was exactly as he remembered her: a girl just approaching adult life with her form still delicate, her long blond hair perpetually gathered in a braid and her clear eyes always proud, determined, filled with a determination all her own.
"I almost didn't recognize you," she said, moving her hand from his shoulder to his cheek, brushing the perfectly shaven skin with the tips of her fingertips. She dared not touch it any more than that, it was already staining something irreparable. " It's been so long... " the woman continued in a barely audible whisper, suddenly retracting her hand as if the skin was burning hot. She averted her gaze and a bitter, nostalgic smile curved her barely-there lips. Loki had associated that gesture, imperceptible and involuntary, with a memory that suddenly came back to him. It was not the first time it had happened. It was always the same sequence: her getting lost in some thought and then coming back to reality and reassuring him that everything was going well.
" Sigyn. "
Loki called her name and she sighed before looking up again to meet his.
" Why are you here?" the girl asked after a long silence in which her perfectly lined lips no longer showed the spontaneous smile that had always characterized her and that he had come to know.
Loki looked at her in silence not knowing what to answer. He was there because his mind was playing another of its tricks on him in which, from his subconscious, was projected everything that over time he had tried to hide and bury in a hidden corner of his soul. More frequently it was Thor. Sometimes in the guise of friend, brother, comrade. At others adversary, enemy, rival. They fought, talked, tried to kill or save themselves, and when he woke up it was as if he had really fought so exhausted, panting, anguished.
At other times he dreamed of his mother, more rarely of Odin.
This time, however, none of them were present because she was there to take their place.
It was definitely more real than the usual dreams he had. He could almost smell the scent her snow-white skin gave off, of flowers, and if he brushed against her he could clearly feel the warmth of her body. He began to have a strange, uncomfortable feeling. Something was not right.
" Have you come back for me?" she asked in a whisper.
Loki moved an escaped lock of hair from her eyes. Sigyn barely gasped when his icy fingers brushed against her, just like all the past times when their fingers involuntarily touched, their bodies brushed against each other when they passed each other, his face dangerously too close when he told her a secret. But all this was before. Now it was gone.
" No, Sigyn. You are not really here. "
She widened her eyes and her lips trembled. She clenched the hand that had moved her hair in a grip that tasted of desperation.
" You let me die once already. Do you want to do it again? "
Loki stiffened and tried to free himself from her grip, but he could not. Sigyn held him with a strength he had never had.
" I tried to save you, to take you away. I almost succeeded. " he said, trying to maintain a composed, stiff tone, thus masking the suddenly accelerated pulse and the urge to get as far away from her as possible.
Sigyn's eyes changed expression, becoming hard, icy, full of hatred. He squeezed her hand harder until it became painful, and the expression on his handsome face became a mask of deformed resentment.
" It is your fault, Loki. It is always your fault. Your actions have led to this. "
Sigyn's face horribly began to crumble, to rot and reveal living flesh. Loki gave a tug to free himself, but her hand would not let him go.
" Run away? Where to? From her? " she asked in a guttural voice that smelled of death and the afterlife. The delicate, feminine fingers that closed her wrist turned black from gangrene, melting flesh down to the bone. The stench of decomposition was unbearable.
Horrified, Loki finally managed to free himself and back away a few steps until his back touched a stone wall. He looked around and saw only a long dark corridor and a light indicating its exit. He started running in that direction certain that he would never reach it and instead was dazzled by the light when he managed to get out. He found himself in the throne room of Asgard.
The hall was empty, cold and desolate, and from the way the throne and statues looked it must have been abandoned for centuries.
Moss had formed on the walls and roots had broken the floor in several places. The window panes were almost all shattered.
The statue of Odin, once majestic and regal, was now split in half.
" Loki..."
He heard Sylvie's voice, frightened and desperate, and looked around several times before he found her. She was on her knees with her arms behind her back and a hooded figure behind her holding her by the hair so that it showed his throbbing throat. A dagger grazed the pale, sweat-soaked skin.
" Sylvie!  " A cry mixed with despair escaped the deceiver's lips as he reached out for her, but in horror he saw the dagger blade plunge into her throat, opening her from ear to ear.
The girl's body fell to the side and Loki stood petrified, unable to move, unable to think, unable to act. Copious scarlet drops fell from the blade that seemed to emit a dull rumble throughout the room.
Loki could not even scream. He couldn't do anything. He was stuck in a timeless limbo.
He felt an icy chill at his back and someone's lips graze his ear.
" Join me, Loki son of Laufey. I can give you the power you seek. I can make you strong enough to keep Sylvie from dying in this. If you come with me, you can save her. At least her. "
Loki turned sharply but there was no one there, only the bitter cold.
He felt his legs so heavy that he could not stand.
He fell and darkness enveloped him.

Sylvie jolted awake upon hearing Loki cry out. He had sat up in bed, sweating and panting as he convulsively clutched the covers and caught his breath. It took him a few moments before he realized that the woman at his side was calling out to him.
" Loki...Loki, look at me. " she said, sounding out the words well. She rested her hand on his chest, which was rising and falling in a rapid rhythm in a feeble attempt to calm him. The dim light of the candle, lit with the use of the seiðr, illuminated his tense and visibly worried face. "It was just a nightmare. "
The deceiver came out from under the covers and quickly put on the green tunic left on the chair the night before.
" It was not just a nightmare, Sylvie.” he murmured after regaining control and slowing his accelerated breathing. " He managed to enter my dream. " He licked his dry lips and ran a hand through his hair to remove it from his forehead, sticky with sweat. " He materialized inside my mind. He...created illusions and manipulated my dream. "
" Who?" the woman asked even though she already knew the answer.
" The man I saw on Jotunheim and who is following us. "
Sylvie sensed that this was no ordinary man. He was traveling through time with them and keeping an eye on them. For what reason, still, she could not understand. Could it be that someone had managed to breach Loki's impenetrable mind? From what she knew, no one had ever been able to manipulate or subdue him except by using a powerful artifact such as the mind gem.
But to use a gem needed a tool to channel power, and surely no one had snuck into the room, Loki would have noticed. He had engraved runes at the entrance that allowed him to know who was coming in and who was going out.
What astonished her most was not knowing that someone so powerful was around, but seeing how worried, tense, terrified the trickster god was. Never had she seen him snap to his feet so quickly, breathing laboredly, looking around as if something -someone- might come out of the shadows of the night to attack him.
The woman got out of bed and covered herself, taking a robe from the closet. She approached him at a slow pace, watching him scan an undefined spot outside the window.
"You must leave. Now. " said the prince in a harsh tone that admitted no reply. The tense face, pale and tried, left Sylvie distraught. Those words sounded not like an invitation but like a peremptory order dictated by a general in a critical situation. He was accustomed to giving orders that were promptly carried out without retort or remonstrance by his subordinates, but she was not a soldier trained to obey him or one who merely nodded. And indeed she promptly replied.
" What? What are you talking about?!" she exclaimed in surprise.
Loki did not look away from what she was observing. He frowned and tightened his lips into a hard line then turned to look her in the eye. He opened the hand on which the tempad appeared and handed it to her.  
" Find a safe place, Sylvie, far from here. Don't let me know where you are going. When I am done I will come and find you. "
" I won't. I won't go anywhere. " she replied coldly, pushing the object away from her.  " I will stay here. Whether you like it or not. "
The deceiver moved a step toward her and grabbed her by the shoulders, squeezing them. " Can it be that you never do what I tell you? " he hissed furiously. " Is it possible that you can't understand that? You have to get out of here. Now! " He still saw in his mind's eye the terrible image of her slumping to the ground with her throat open. The mysterious being had threatened him concretely by making him see what he was most afraid of all. He was afraid of losing her and he, he did not know how, knew.
" What did you see?"
Sylvie roused him from his thoughts by asking him that question he did not want to hear. And he would never have told her what he had seen except that she had stiffened so much under his grip and her face became somber and terribly serious.
" It wasn't just a nightmare, Loki, or you wouldn't be so insistent on sending me away. You are afraid. But if it was not a nightmare then what was it? " she whispered decisively. She wanted, nay, needed to know, and she would not let him keep her in the dark. Loki was increasingly distancing himself from her and this would irreparably ruin what they had so painstakingly built up to that point. " Tell me. " she insisted at his remonstrance to speak to her.
Loki sighed and tightened his fingers around her shoulders for a brief moment, then spoke in a rough voice. " He wants me to join him. He wants to give me more power. " To save you, he would have said if not for his pride. He let her go and straightened his back. He did not understand what he wanted from him or why he sought him out so eagerly. He had brought him there for a purpose, and he had to find out.
" Will you accept? "
Loki furrowed his brow and replied in an icy tone. " I am no longer interested in power or fame or glory. You should understand that by now. "
It was instinctive for Sylvie to ask him because still, deep down, she was convinced that revenge and lust for power were still what he desired. Loki was ambitious, brash, and proud. Could he leave aside the glorious purposes pursued for so long, sacrificing everything, just for her?
" I know. Yet you want to meet him again, don't you? "
" I have to. He leaves me no choice. "
Sylvie cancelled the distance between them and leaned her forehead against his chest and closed her eyes. " Let's go back home. Forget what happened. We will find another way. "
She wanted to get him out of there because her worst fear was about to take shape. She was sure that if someone awakened in him his thirst for power he would soon commit something terrible. And she would be in the terrible situation of having to decide whether to join him or kill him. They had been in such a situation before and no, it would not happen again.
The deceiver slipped a hand through her blond ringlets and observed the robe that barely covered her. He saw the long, toned legs, the womanly form he had touched, lapped and kissed countless times. He drew her to him and took her lips in a eager, desperate kiss. She returned it with the same eagerness, seeking him out and letting herself go completely to him. She did not notice his hand move from the back of her head to her right temple and his fingers glow green. By the time she realized it was too late, and before she could react or say anything she lost consciousness.
Loki picked her up before she fell and laid her on the bed. He moved her hair from her face in a gesture that smacked of care. She would sleep for several hours, time to meet and talk with those who had had the unfortunate idea of getting in his way. He did not want to go that far, but Sylvie was impulsive and would do something very stupid to stop him from doing what he had in mind. He left the room and walked briskly to the library where he met her mother. She was bent over a large antique book lit only by a candle suspended in midair.
" What happened to Eldred is terrible. " Frigga said without looking up from the pages. " Found dead in his house. Who could have done such a thing? Who could be powerful enough to be able to take the life of a wizard with so much experience? " she asked with a hint of a voice, finally lifting her chin to look at him. Her blue eyes were darkly circled, revealing weariness, worry, anguish.
The ravens had found his body on the ground, already lifeless for several days, inside his house located in a remote spot si the borders of the kingdom. Odin's troops had already set out to investigate, but Loki knew they would find nothing. Whoever had done this had been very careful to leave clues.
" Whoever did this is using Eldred to get here. No wonder he is using his powers to sneak into Asgard without being seen. Few can get this far and even fewer can do it before Heimdall knows. "
Frigga stood up and Loki continued. " In fact, I think he is already here. "
The woman widened her eyes and opened her mouth, surprised. " Have you seen him? Tell me, what happened? "
The trickster did not tell her what he had seen, but he did tell her about how someone had managed to enter his mind and manipulate his dreams. And to do that he certainly had to be very close. He also told her what he planned to do to meet him again. Something dangerous where he would be alone to face someone so powerful.
" Are you sure?" asked Frigga apprehensively after a long pause. " Maybe there is another way, maybe we can ... "
" We don't have time, mother. Just do as I say. "
The queen merely nodded and closed the large book she was reading. " Then come with me. "

New York year 2015

" Bruce! Bruce wake up! "
Banner jerked awake, holding a hand to his chest and panting in fright.
" Calm down, it's us. " Steve said seriously, lowering himself onto his knees to get at his height and resting a hand on his shoulder.
Bruce was sitting with his back against a closet inside his lab. Rogers had found him lying prone on the floor and, with a snap, approached him to check on his condition. He had not noticed anything suspicious so he lifted him to his seat and tried to call him several times in the hope that he would wake up.
Bruce recognized his friends and immediately felt better, but he did not stop looking around circumspectly with his eyes wide and his mouth half open.
" What happened? Do you remember? " Steve asked.
The scientist blinked a few times, roused from his thoughts, and rubbed his aching temples with two fingers.
" He...he came in. He came in, did something with his hands, and I lost consciousness. He took the scepter away. " he mumbled quickly, trying to articulate sentences in a logical sense.
" Concentrate Banner. Who did you see?" asked Tony.
Bruce ignored him and turned instead to Thor with a trembling voice and bewildered look.  " He is free. I don't know how, Thor. It's...oh God...he had a look! I have never seen anything so crazy! "
" Who? Banner, for heaven's sake, speak up! " blurted Tony, raising his voice.
When the scientist revealed the name an icy silence descended on the room. Tension suddenly hovered heavily over them and they all exchanged a confused and worried look.
" Impossible. " burst out Tony as he began to walk in circles around the room, deep in thought.  " We made sure he was no longer a threat. Aren't you getting confused? "
Bruce stood up, visibly agitated and upset.  " I'm not getting confused! " he shouted.  " It was him! "
Nat took his shoulders and accompanied him to sit down in a chair a little further away. She said something to him in a low voice that the others did not hear and walked away to get him a glass of water.
" What do we do?" asked Steve in a low voice just inches from Thor's tense face.
" If what he says is true we are in grave danger. " he said, clutching Mjolnir tightly. He looked sidelong at the rest of the team, who in turn returned his worried gaze.
" Jarvis, where are we with Betsy? " Tony smoothed his goatee thoughtfully. The weapon he had been designing for three years and had renamed as Betsy was to be used to ward off future attacks by nonhuman enemies with strength and power beyond their imagination. He hoped he would never have to use it, but apparently its use was needed well ahead of schedule.
" I am completing the final checks, sir. "
" Then get a move on. I want it ready by evening. "

Sylvie woke up and blinked a couple of times before remembering what had happened.
She pulled herself to her seat abruptly and touched her temple, cursing Loki for the stupid idea he had had. She would never forgive him. He could not do this to her, not after all they had been through together. She would not be cast aside. Whatever it took, she would follow him wherever he needed to go.
She walked through the corridors trying to get her bearings and, in turning a corner, came upon the second of Odin's sons.
He held a large volume with a brown leather cover and the pages were yellowed by time.
" What are you doing here?" asked Sylvie.
" I live here. " said the child frowning in puzzlement.
The woman mentally called herself stupid and laid her eyes on the voluminous book that he held tightly in his slender arms and that the little one seemed to hold with apprehension.
" What are you reading? " she said curiously.
Loki lingered a moment before answering her. " A book written in the ancient language of the Asgardians. It is the oldest text I could find that explains how to interpret dreams. " He raised his chin with an air of superiority and straightened his small shoulders. " I certainly don't expect a simpleton like you to understand a subject as complex as the dream world nor to know how to read a language that has been dead for millennia. So, if you will allow, I would be busy. "
Sylvie ignored the insult veiled in his words and focused rather on why he wanted to investigate dream interpretation. He was not yet adept at masking his emotions, and Sylvie saw his being tense and nervous by the way he shifted his weight, impatiently, from one leg to the other. He was definitely in a hurry, but he did not move.
" Why do you have to interpret a dream? "
The little one hardened his gaze.  " You don't have to care, plebeian. It's my business. "
Sylvie bent her knees to lower herself to his height and used a firm, firm tone.  " Loki, listen to me carefully. Did you by any chance dream of someone talking to you? "
She did not know why, but she had a feeling that it centered with what Loki, moments earlier, told her after waking up in a daze. She realized she had caught on by seeing the child's eyes widen in astonishment.
" How do you know that? " he whispered.
" What did he tell you? " she continued, ignoring the question.
The cadet prince bit his lip and shifted his gaze from hers. He was uncomfortable, wondering whether he should talk to her or not. Finally he sighed and clutched the book to his chest.
" I dreamed I touched a chest. It was big and gave off a blue light. Someone behind me told me to touch it, That I would discover horrible secrets. He told me that Odin's house was full of secrets and that I was one of them, the darkest and most fearsome. After I touched him I only remember shouting at my father something about keeping me in the dark for a lifetime. " the voice barely trembled. " But it was just a dream, wasn't it? I...I don't have any secrets to uncover. My mother would never... " he froze and as soon as he realized he was getting carried away by his emotions, he took a big breath and recomposed himself.
" I want to interpret this dream. I have never had such real ones. "
Despite being only eight years old, Loki looked decidedly older for his age. Not only because he could read complex texts written in an ancient and complex language, but mostly because of his always calm, composed, controlled attitude. He had already taken his role as possible heir to the throne seriously, unlike Thor who, despite being a few years older, still saw everything as a game. What Sylvie saw in front of him was just a child who wanted to play at being an adult, meddling in situations that did not concern him and trying to solve any problems on his own.
The woman furrowed her brow and lowered her voice.  " Why don't you tell someone about the dream you had instead of looking for some answer in an old book? "
" My father would scold me, as always, and my mother right now is busy with your friend. "
" Have you seen them? " she asked surprised, standing up.
Loki nodded. " They went to the healing room. They were in quite a hurry. " he turned and pointed his finger in the opposite direction from them. " Follow the corridor and then turn right. Go down the stairs and continue straight ahead. You will find a wooden doorway. "
Sylvie nodded her understanding and began to move in the direction indicated before Loki's childish voice stopped her behind her.
" Something is happening, isn't it? Something bad. "
He had a keen intelligence and a remarkable curiosity even at such a young age, but to bring him up to speed was foolish and dangerous. Sylvie merely smiled and nodded his head. " No, it's all right. " she lied.  Loki looked into her eyes for a brief moment, as if to convince himself of her words, but he said nothing and let her go to head for his room.
 He could tell she was lying, Sylvie quickly realized. Deceiving him was not easy, even at such a small age, and surely a trivial turn of phrase was not enough to fool him.
She hoped that he would not get into any trouble.
In fact, that neither of them would get into any trouble.

The hall looked very different from the rest of the palace. The luxury and gold that overwhelmingly characterized the rooms, corridors, and halls was not present. Instead, the furniture was simple and functional. Along the wall were the beds, and at the far end of the room he saw Frigga sitting. Next to her was a bed on which Loki was lying.
Sylvie approached the queen and the latter was surprised to see her.
" Sylvie, dear, what are you doing here?" she asked with veiled concern.
The girl ignored her. She was looking at the man lying deeply asleep. She reached out and touched his temple, using her powers, but she could see nothing. Loki had closed any kind of access to his mind.
" What did you do?  " she asked harshly, clenching his fists.
Frigga sighed. " Don't accuse me. I just did what he asked me to do. " She stood up and showed her the silver chalice on the bedside table. " I have created a potion to help him enter his mind in a lucid way. He will have full control of his powers and actions. It is the only way. "
" No. It is not the only way. " she hissed furiously.
The queen stood up sharply, giving her a fiery look.  " Do you think I like this? Do you think I am happy in knowing that my son is inside his own mind with a dangerous man who could kill him? There was no other way, Sylvie. He did it to stop the enemy from entering Asgard. The dungeons are full of weapons and artifacts with unimaginable powers. If they were used in the wrong way it could be the end not only for us, but for the whole galaxy. " Frigga was harsh, but Sylvie read in her clear eyes a deep concern. She simply sat back, defeated. She could do nothing but watch, helpless, what Loki and Frigga had decided to do without asking her opinion. She had been cut off, and now she could only wait and hope that he would return.
The queen took his hands in hers, soft and warm. " I promise nothing will happen to him, but please don't get in our way. I will be here to protect him. " she said in a reassuring tone. Concealed in her words was a promise that, whatever happened, she would keep. Frigga had understood right away the deep bond between them from the way they looked at each other, understanding each other on the fly without saying a word, from Loki's heartfelt laughter when she did something he found funny. She had seen a complicity made up of glances, smiles and nods. Deep down, she was happy to know that his son would no longer be alone.
After giving her a reassuring smile, she sat down in the chair and held a hand raised above him. She closed his eyes and uttered a few runes, and a ball of white light illuminated his palm. The bracelets on her wrist jingled as she moved her hand all along the man's body to make sure everything was going well. With her amplified senses she could feel the slow breathing, the steady heartbeat, the relaxed muscles. She could not see what Loki would face, but any slightest sign of change in his body would be a warning of what was happening.
Sylvie watched the queen immersed in her magic, not understanding exactly what she was doing, and finally gave up, leaning badly against the back of the chair. Frigga was determined to go on and would be adamant in her painful choice.
Sylvie leaned toward Loki, whispering in his ear.
" See that you come back to me or I swear I will kick you in the ass. "
She was certain he could not hear her, yet the barely perceptible movement of her fingers did not escape her notice.
She took his hand and squeezed it tightly.

Chapter Text

The first time he learned to use magic on his own, Loki was so thrilled that he immediately ran to the first person he wanted to show his excellent results to. He rushed into his brother's room to show him how he had managed to make a bright green light appear from his hand. Thor wrinkled his nose in a feeble attempt to imitate his father's stern appearance, but inside he was dying to know what else he could do.

They spent the whole afternoon laughing and trying out other things Frigga had taught him. He even made a snake appear, which Thor chased and tried to catch. Loki laughed until he had tears in his eyes at the funny positions his brother assumed in his attempt to catch the animal. That was one of the oldest and bittersweetest memories that occasionally emerged from the depths of his millennia-long memories.

Going back in time, he had seen and touched aspects of his life that only an outside view could comprehend. Until Odin instilled rivalry between them, they were truly brothers. Walking through his memories, in his mind, inevitably led him to relive what he had always tried to keep dormant and hidden within himself. He had always been careful not to reveal his true thoughts and feelings.

He had heard how some had slipped into madness once they had discovered what was hidden within them, a vision created with the help of powerful artifacts. It was said that some things had to be kept hidden, silenced, respected.

The world of dreams should not be broken, just like that of the dead. That is why Loki felt uneasy about being inside his own mind. He could create powerful illusions, and who could guarantee that they would not keep him prisoner there forever? He had already seen what he did not want to see.

They playing and laughing carefree before the throne divided them, Odin turning away to cast yet another admiring glance at Thor, him standing alone on the sidelines, watching what he would never achieve. He was tired of reliving those memories, watching them as a spectator, but reliving every single painful detail. He had to find the man who was doing this and stop him.

He only stopped when he reached the gravelly shore of the Great Lake, just outside Asgard. He knew why he was there. The mysterious enemy, capable of traveling through time and endowed with such great power that he could create images and visions in his mind, knew him well. Too well. So well that he felt he even shared the same memories, feelings, and thoughts. If he wanted to find him, he had to play along with his cruel and terrible game.

And indeed, her footsteps behind him broke the silence.

"You're back." Sigyn's delicate voice reached him like a warm caress, exactly as he remembered it. Even in that dream, the effect was always the same: a balm on his broken soul.

Loki turned slowly until Sigyn's blue eyes, veiled with nostalgia and sadness, met his cold green ones.

"You're not real, Sigyn, you know that," he said with cold detachment, pushing away what it would have meant to show how he really felt at that moment. Suffering, guilt, regret.

"I am real. I am here," she said, touching the outline of his jaw with her fingertips until she reached his chin. It was no longer the face of a boy with the first signs of a beard and features somewhere between the softness of childhood and the harshness of adulthood.

Once, Loki would have recoiled from that gesture with a grimace of annoyance, because he did not like being touched. He learned over time that he would miss her, miss her touch.

"You're just a memory, nothing more," he said, taking her hand and moving it away, interrupting that touch that smacked of nostalgia and home.

Sigyn smiled, revealing the dimples that always appeared without fail. "Come with me." She sat down on the shore of the lake and gestured for him to sit next to her. Loki was reluctant to follow her and sit there with her, but indulging her would bring him one step closer to the only reason he was there.

"Do you remember when we used to come here secretly? You ran away from Thor's friends' bullying, I ran away from arguments with my older brothers."

Loki just stared at a vague point."I remember," he said quietly, briefly recalling the moment when he ran away from his brother's inseparable friends after a series of cruel teasing from which Thor did not defend him. He ran at full speed without a specific destination until he arrived, quite by chance, at the lake outside the city. There, Sigyn was sitting on a rock, lazily stirring the water with a stick. He remembered her sulky face, offended by a probable exchange of ideas with her older sister in which the two could never find common ground.

When she looked up and saw him, her eyes lit up, but she did not get up from where she was sitting. She certainly did not expect the cadet prince to be there, in the middle of nowhere, alone. They just smiled briefly at each other that time, each remaining minding their own business.

"I miss all this," said Sigyn, picking up a stone and throwing it into the water. "I was happy, you know?"

Loki did not reply. Happiness was something he had never really had. Happy moments were so rare and sporadic that he could hardly remember them. Yet he knew that many of those brief, small moments of happiness existed because she was there. And when she left, that happiness no longer existed until he met Sylvie.

As if Sigyn had read his mind, her gaze hardened and she stopped looking at him, preferring the icy waters to him.

"Things should have been different," the girl murmured, pulling her knees up to her chest. "After that kiss, things had to change."

They found themselves laughing and joking on a hot afternoon, in the shade of a tree seeking shelter from the summer heat. Sigyn had tears in her eyes from laughing so much, and Loki thought she was beautiful.

She was no longer the little girl who followed him everywhere and forced him to play the hero who saves the princess. Her body had abandoned its innocence and childish lines to make way for the curves of a young woman. He looked at her with different eyes, the eyes of someone who was attracted to her.

Without thinking too much about it, he leaned toward her and kissed her lips. The same lips he had despised years earlier during one of their games, he now craved.

"What are you doing?" she said in surprise, her eyes wide. Loki grinned.

"Do you mind?" Sigyn stared at him for a few seconds with her sweet blue eyes, then shyly leaned in until her lips brushed his.

"Not at all," she whispered. That memory had been a warm embrace for a long time in moments of loneliness within the walls of that great palace. It was the comfort he sought when he felt unappreciated. For those few seconds, someone had shown that they cared about him.

Over time, that memory became a perpetually bleeding wound that affected every fiber of his being. Because he would never forgive Asgard for taking her away from him.

"It's been a long time, Sigyn," the Aesir resumed in a low voice. "I'm no longer the boy who took you to see new places or helped you study."

Sigyn looked him in the eyes, waiting. "I've done terrible things. You would never forgive me."

Sigyn, instead of walking away disappointed and bitter as Loki thought she would, gave him a faint smile. "I am convinced that there is still good in you. I know because I know you, I have seen it."

That was Sigyn for you, with her incurable faith in people. For her, no one was a lost cause; everyone deserved a second chance. And she had given him second chances. She was convinced that everyone had a good side, even the most terrible monster in history. When they were children, Sigyn would force him to listen to her read her beloved stories of princes and princesses, which, incidentally, Loki found deadly boring , and she would invariably frown when the monster of the moment was killed.

She always said it wasn't fair to kill him without giving him a second chance. Maybe there had been a misunderstanding, or maybe it just needed to be understood. Loki listened to her, visibly bored, and always replied that perhaps a monster simply behaved like one because it was evil. Sigyn would sulk and say that no, no one was really a monster.

Sometimes he wondered if the real Sigyn would still think the same thing about him now, after everything he had done over the years. With all the deceit, deaths, subterfuge, and betrayals, could he not be considered as such?

The green-eyed monster, the inhabitants of Asgard had called him, because his gaze alone was enough to intimidate anyone who had the misfortune to get in his way and meet his eyes. And he had always been proud of that, after all. All he wanted, all he had lived and fought for, was to be feared simply by his gaze.

"I never considered you a monster, if that's what you think." Sigyn abandoned her sweet, serene smile in favor of a decidedly more serious expression. "Monsters are something else entirely."

Loki immediately understood who she was referring to: the husband she had been forced to marry. For Sigyn, it had been an inevitable fate to be given in marriage to someone who would give her and her family a better future. For her parents, it was almost a necessary choice to revive the fortunes of a noble family that had fallen into disgrace, and Lord Freyr of Vanheim's courtship came at just the right moment.

For Lord Athalr, his youngest daughter was the price to pay to regain his former prestige. Behind his gentle and affable manner, Lord Freyr masked a profound egocentrism dictated by reprehensible and dishonest actions to get what he wanted. The mask he wore in front of Sigyn's father was perfect for convincing the man that his beloved daughter was in safe hands.

Loki, however, immediately understood the man's slimy and cruel nature—in some ways more similar than he wanted to admit. Yet he would never have hurt her. When he received the letter informing him of Sigyn's untimely death due to an attack by the Trolls, Loki felt anger boiling in his veins.

He crumpled the letter and threw it into the fire, then searched for his armor and his favorite dagger, which he hid inside. He used one of his secret passages to leave the palace on the night he swore revenge against Freyr. If she was dead, it was only because Freyr thought to save his own life, by any means necessary, even if it meant leaving someone behind. It didn't take long before he was able to carry out his revenge.

All he had to do was find the carriage he was traveling in and kill the guards and cupbearer with extreme ease. When it was the prince's turn, he begged him to let him go, saying he would give him anything.  He was trembling with fear, the idiot, and Loki revelled in every single tear and word of supplication that came out of his mouth. With his sword, he pierced the man's entrails as slowly and painfully as possible, relishing the pain that contorted his face.

That was the first time he became intoxicated by seeing a person's life slip away from his fingers, and he realized he liked it. Having the power of life and death over another person made him feel powerful. Loki sighed at the memory of what he had felt at that moment. Revenge had always been the driving force behind all his present and future decisions.

Like hot coals smoldering under the ashes, hatred and revenge remained dormant until a sudden wind fanned the flames, giving rise to fires and burns. Burns that inevitably affected him because actions always have consequences.

Freyr's death had brought instability to the kingdoms, leading Odin to intervene with his armies to restore order. There had been a series of wars that had resulted in heavy losses for both Asgard and its allies. No one had ever discovered the murderous hand that had brought about this disaster, but Odin knew it had been his youngest son.
Yet he never revealed the truth because he was still his son and a member of the royal family, and as such, his name and that of the family had to be protected in front of all his subjects.

How would the people react if they found out that the ruler's son was a murderer?

"If I had had more power, things would probably have turned out differently," said Loki, looking at his hand. "If I had been less weak, you would really be here."

Sigyn took his hand and placed it on her chest. "You can have the power you seek. Just ask for it."

Loki sensed, thanks to his trained senses, someone approaching silently behind him. He jumped up and glimpsed the figure, which he had now learned to recognize through seidr, walking slowly towards him.

Sigyn disappeared and an icy emptiness took her place.

"I knew you would come here," said the man, closing the distance between them. "I know you too well, son of Laufey."

The deceiver stood still, carefully studying his enemy's movements. Every inch of his body was ready to spring into action. He reached out a hand to touch the hilt of the dagger held in the sheath tied to his side, covered by his long black and green jacket. "No one has the right to enter my mind and manipulate my dreams," he said coldly, moving slightly in an attempt to glimpse the face hidden by the hood.

"What do you want from me?"

"To give you what you really want," he replied and snapped his fingers. The grass beneath their feet gave way to a marble floor, the trees disappeared and in their place appeared imposing columns with carvings telling the long history of Asgard. The blue sky turned into a vaulted ceiling depicting portraits of the royal family. They found themselves back in the throne room of Asgard, this time as splendid and majestic as it had been for millennia. The gold of the immense throne placed above a long staircase reflected the sunlight through the windows, creating a play of light on the walls. The man climbed the staircase with a determined, proud, and haughty gait, then sat down on the throne, crossing one leg over the other.

"What do you want to be?" he asked. His low voice echoed throughout the great hall. Loki did not answer, merely following him with his gaze. "Someone's lackey? An anonymous being? Or a king?" he continued, sitting above as the undisputed ruler of everything present. "A king so powerful that he reigns not only in Asgard, but in all Nine Realms." He raised his arm and the floor disappeared, giving way to the sidereal darkness of the universe. Billions of stars shone beneath Silver Tongue's feet. "The time has come for Yggdrasill to have a ruler, a powerful king who can rule what is rightfully his."

To Loki, those words seemed like the ravings of a man with delusions of omnipotence. To reign over all of Yggdrasil was absurd, not to mention impossible. The balance established by Father All over the millennia was the result of skillful political strategies, trade agreements, wars, and alliances that maintained the delicate equilibrium of those worlds so different and in perpetual hostility with each other. In order to subjugate the peoples of ice, fire, elves, and dwarves, the power to be used had to be immense, dark, and destructive. How could one person have all that?

"You're lying," said the deceiver after a long silence. "What you say is illogical as well as impossible. Odin is too powerful."

"You asked for more power, and that is what I will give you."

Loki narrowed his eyes, watching his enemy closely, then began to laugh. "I don't need your power! What can you give me that I cannot take for myself?"

"Odin's head, Thor's power, the throne of Asgard."

Silver Tongue was stunned, speechless. Those words echoed deafeningly in his head, in a whirlwind that left him breathless. It was completely nonsensical, devoid of any logical or rational reason. Believing this was synonymous with something incomprehensible and totally wrong, contrary to what he had promised himself to be. He would no longer pursue his destructive goals, of that he was absolutely convinced. Yet something dark, a thought as black as pitch, began to gnaw at his mind.

"To do what you say requires a power that neither you nor I have. Do you want me to believe that you alone can do what you say?" He knew he was entering a spiral from which he would never escape, but asking, questioning, was stronger than him.

"Alone, no, it's impossible, of course," he said calmly, "but together we will have extraordinary power. By combining our magic with the powers I stole from Eldred, we will be invincible."

It was thanks to this that the mysterious man was able to enter his mind without any problems, and even though Loki already understood this, knowing it left him troubled. He realized with anger that he would never be able to defeat him alone.

"But first we must take back what is rightfully yours. The throne of Jotunheim has been usurped."

Loki raised a puzzled eyebrow. "Usurped by whom?"

"By your sister."

A wry smile played on the deceiver's lips. "My sister, of course. A daughter of Odin I didn't know existed? Hela has been locked in an eternal prison for a long time and won't be out for a few more years."

The man sitting on the throne seemed to stiffen slightly. "I'm not talking about a daughter of Odin or your half-sister. I'm talking about your blood sister. The only one you have." Loki stopped smiling and narrowed his eyes, serious.

"I have no sister," he said sharply. It was one of the first things he had asked his mother after the dramatic revelation that had turned his life upside down. Still trembling with anger and bewilderment, his eyes moist with fierce disappointment, he strode into the dining room where he ordered the maids accompanying the queen to leave. He asked her if she knew, if it was intentional, if it was just a piece on the great political chessboard to be played at the right moment, or if it was something else. Whatever Frigga said to him, to Loki they were just words as sharp as a knife blade. He only asked her to reveal, without lies, whether he was the only one or if there was someone else to whom he was bound by a true blood tie. When his mother revealed the name of the only one with whom he shared a family bond—the name of Laufey came out with extreme calm—he stopped listening to her.

"After your mother's death at the hands of Odin, Laufey had a daughter after you with another queen. Because of the dishonor and shame of having given birth to a female heir, he tried to have her killed. She was saved by her mother, who managed to take her away. Now that the king is dead, she has returned, proclaiming herself his heir and the rightful queen of Jotunheim."

Loki's eyes widened, surprised and shocked at the same time. He couldn't believe what he was saying. In fact, he opened his mouth to say something, but only a simple "impossible" came out.

The man laughed. "I figured you wouldn't know that little detail. If you join forces with me, we can overthrow her and finally take what is rightfully yours."

The god of deception was speechless for the first time. Rarely had he found himself lost, confused, and at a loss for words. That revelation came like a blast of cold water, leaving him in a trance. He had never been interested in what happened to the Nine Realms after his departure. What did he care who had taken Laufey's place? Those beings could disappear into thin air for all he cared. Instead, someone totally unexpected had burst into his life.

My sister.

He shook himself when the figure disappeared from the throne and reappeared standing in front of him. A hand stretched out, inviting him to take it, to touch it and finally seal that agreement. A kingdom to rule, a people to subjugate, an army to lead against Asgard. He felt the lust for power coursing through his veins like liquid fire. Such an opportunity would never come his way again. A smug, satisfied grin appeared on the wizard's lips.

"What should I do?"

*

The more time passed, the more Sylvie realized how crazy this all was. She still felt angry at being pushed away and cast aside, as if she weren't important—a lie, if he had done so, it was only because he cared about her deeply.

She took the pendant she wore around her neck and twirled it between her slender fingers. Just a few nights earlier, they had been in bed together, embracing, while Loki absentmindedly ran his fingertips over her bare back.

"I like living here," she said, abandoning herself to that embrace without any reservations or fear of losing everything again. She closed her eyes and immersed herself in the warmth that the man beside her was able to give to her cold and distrustful soul. "I wish I could stay here forever."

Loki didn't answer. It was a way of life that didn't suit his chaotic and unpredictable nature. He knew he had no other place to go, but on the one hand, he missed what he had left behind in Asgard terribly. "Wouldn't you like to go back to Asgard? To see it one more time?"

Sylvie opened her eyes and sat up slightly, looking into his green eyes. They were troubled, thoughtful. "You miss what you left behind, don't you? Am I not enough for you?"

Loki sighed and the hand that was caressing her back moved up to grab the nape of her neck and pull her towards him. "Of course you are enough for me, my lady. As long as I have you here, nothing else matters," he murmured on her lips, kissing her and lying on top of her. He immersed himself in her eyes, as clear as his own, and smiled. "Midgard isn't as bad as I thought."

They sought each other out again, urgently and insatiably, shutting out fears, doubts, and insecurities. Still panting and sweaty, Loki traced the outline of Sylvie's lips, jaw, and neck with his fingers as she lay pinned beneath him. His fingers stopped wandering and a light appeared under his fingertips, revealing a pendant as soon as he moved them. A beautiful emerald. Sylvie was surprised by the sight of the jewel, by the brilliance of the stone, by the finish of the carving and its oval shape. She opened her lips to say something, but Loki beat her to it, already guessing what she wanted to say.

"See it as a symbol of my commitment to you. I don't care where we live, whether here or anywhere else you want."

"Where did you..."

"I didn't leave Asgard empty-handed," he said, giving her a brief smile. The woman was genuinely touched by this gesture. It was certainly not his habit to give anything to anyone, jealous and possessive as he was of his possessions. That jewel was probably one of the few valuable things he had managed to bring with him.

She shook herself when the queen murmured some runes under her breath.

The light projected by her hand became even brighter and her gaze even more serious, as if she were analyzing something. She did not take her eyes off the man's face and seemed to be looking. Sylvie realized that she could and was able to see what Loki was dreaming and experiencing at that very moment. Furious at having denied her that opportunity, Sylvie reached out and touched the queen's hand, managing to glimpse a single, brief moment. And in the darkness, she could see the conflicting feelings Loki was experiencing at that moment. Anxiety, anger, fear. She saw someone in the shadows talking, but couldn't understand what they were saying.

Then, a brief flash of light in which she saw her, Sigyn.

They were smiling, touching each other, talking, kissing. She wanted to reach out to them, to touch them, but she was thrown into another place where time and space had no logic or order. She saw Loki standing in front of someone she didn't recognize who was offering him his hand. The god of deception smiled smugly, satisfied, in a way she had never seen before. She realized that he was offending something. Something powerful, terrible, destructive, and chaotic, and he had no intention of backing down. He shouted, hoping she would hear him, but nothing came out.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't have done it.

She was thrown out of his mind, and Frigga looked at her the same way she was looking at her. With concern and resignation.

Chapter Text

12.I will not accept my fate

The hooded man stretched out his hand and stood there, waiting for Loki to approach. He was convinced that the young wizard would immediately accept the great opportunity he was offering him without hesitation. They would unite, in power and mind, to achieve the long-coveted and long-sought goal.
Loki, however, did not move or seem to change his expression. He studied him with careful meticulousness, and this did not go unnoticed by the man.
“Your seiðr is very powerful, son of Laufey. But if you combine it with mine, you will become invincible.”

He skillfully used words to appeal to his ambitious, egocentric, control-freak side. He knew him well enough to know that the lust for power had always been dormant in his soul, in his feelings, in his actions. So, in his open hand, he created an illusion in which he showed the deceiver how, together, they would first reduce Asgard, then all Nine Realms, including that insipid rock called Earth, to a pile of rubble. Loki watched the images unfold and, among the many that the man skillfully created, he lingered on one in particular: the image of a throne, the Avengers lying on the ground, him looking down at them from his seat, laughing.
Loki skillfully hid his disgust at seeing himself projected into an illusion he never wanted to be part of, let alone laugh so contemptuously at the death of the heroes of Midgard. The man knew he had a score to settle with the Avengers, with humans in general, and especially with Thor. The god of deception did not bat an eyelid when he saw the image of his lifeless brother, covered in blood, staring at him with empty, dead eyes. Inside, however, he felt his heart begin to beat faster and his throat go dry with tension.
How did he know all this? How did he know where to strike? With those illusions, the man showed him everything he had felt in recent years: regret, guilt, pain. Without knowing him, without ever even seeing him, he already knew everything.

Loki was enveloped in doubts and unanswered questions.

“How do I know this isn't a trap?” he asked after a long pause, without letting his guard down.
“You're smart enough to know if it's a trap or not.”

Loki realized that it was anything but a trap. The man was terribly serious and determined to carry out his plan. A destructive and ambitious plan.
So this time, without hesitation, he reached out his hand and could even sense the man's smile under his hood, already anticipating the outcome of their union. As their fingers were about to touch, an illusion of the man appeared behind him, putting one arm around his neck and holding a dagger to his throat with the other.

“And you're not as smart as you think you are,” Loki whispered in his ear.
The man laughed, not at all intimidated. “You are so predictable, son of Laufey.” His hand glowed green, and Loki, without understanding how, found himself in his enemy's place. His arm was around his neck, and the dagger that had been in his hand was now in the man's hand, pressing against his throat.The hooded figure appeared in front of him, and Loki tried to free himself from his copy's grip, but the more he moved, the more the blade scratched his skin.

“I offered you a great opportunity, and you chose to give it up.” He took a step closer and began to lift the cloak, revealing who was underneath. When he uncovered the face, Loki stopped struggling and stared, shocked.
In front of him, he saw himself.
His face was more mature, and a conspicuous scar stretched from his eyebrow to his chin. Loki stared at him for a long time and realized that his variant was several years older than him and, judging by the scar, must have been a veteran of a fierce battle. But what really left him speechless were his eyes. They had a coldness and madness he had never seen before. None of his variants in the Void had such a look.

“Surprised?” asked the variant with a cruel grin. “Did you think you were the only one who could travel through time?”
Loki understood why there was a connection between them and why he could enter his dreams so easily. Only someone who used the same magic as him could evade his mental defenses and use his own illusions against him. He had hypothesized that whoever was following them might be a variant of himself. There were several clues pointing in that direction, but until the very end, he wanted to believe that this was not the case. Facing himself was not something he ever wanted to do. With Sylvie, there had been an immediate understanding. They understood each other the moment they decided to lay down their weapons to talk, study, and accept each other. With Sylvie, he had seen her desperate eyes asking for help, and when he offered her his hand to help her, she accepted without hesitation.

This variant, however, had none of the qualities he had seen in Sylvie.
He was ruthless, cold, insane.
One wrong move and it could be fatal.

“Where are you from?” Loki asked in a grave voice. He felt afraid to find out exactly who he was, what timeline he came from, what he had faced, who had reduced him to this.
The variant turned his back on him. “I come from a universe where Odin fell in battle and Thor was killed by my hand,” he said, looking at his hand and clenching it tightly into a fist. He turned and looked him in the eye, and Loki saw a flash of anger. “Asgard is burning and the Nine Realms are collapsing.”
He remembered the dream he had had a few days earlier, where Asgard was in flames and he reigned supreme, and realized that it was not just a dream, but the reality experienced by the Loki of another universe. Interfering with the Sacred Timeline had inevitably caused the universes to intertwine, revealing stories of others already lived or yet to be lived.
Loki understood that the variant must have faced something horrible, so shocking that it forced him to travel the multiverse to carry out a crazy and dangerous plan, one of revenge and hatred. He understood this because he could see himself in that gaze, in that cruel grin, in that thirst for power that clouded his mind. Because that's exactly what he would have become if he hadn't met Sylvie.

“And what exactly do you want from me?” he asked, without taking his eyes off him.
The variant smiled at him. "To conquer what remains of the Nine Realms and then the entire galaxy, I need greater power. I have looked through countless universes, and the only one with enough power to achieve what I want is you. We can kill Thanos and take all the Infinity Stones. With those, no one can stop us."
Loki cautiously observed the version of himself smiling so placidly. He was assuming that he would help him by joining him.

“What if helping you isn't part of my plan?” he asked, choosing his words carefully.
The variant stopped smiling and hardened his gaze. “That's why I'm here. To make you understand how stupid and weak you've become. You had glorious purposes to fulfill, and look what you've become. Living on Midgard like the most insipid of humans,” he said with contempt. “You have great power, Loki. Why not use it?”
The god of deception tightened his grip on the arm that was still wrapped around his neck. He didn't want to believe that he was facing such a crazy, power-hungry variant of himself.
Do you think that what makes a Loki a Loki is the fact that we are destined to lose?

Sylvie's words came back to him, and he remembered how she shook her head in denial. He would never accept such a simplification of his destiny. His glorious intentions no longer made any sense, had no meaning now that he had finally found his place. Sylvie was what he would fight for as long as he had air in his lungs, as long as he could stand, and he would not let anyone ruin it all.

“In fact, I will use it to destroy you,” he said, nimbly freeing himself from the grip by striking the side of the variant holding him down. He materialized a sword and lunged at him, trying to hit him. The variant dodged the blows with ease, grinning with amusement. It was effortless, and Loki, after dodging yet another blow, moved away to catch his breath.
He was strong. He dodged his blows with extreme ease, as if he could read his mind.
Every move Loki thought of, the man promptly anticipated. He couldn't break through his defense, couldn't scratch him. He was skilled, cunning, forged by countless battles.
Loki swallowed, beginning to consider the idea that he was trapped.

“See? You're weak,” said the man with the scar contemptuously. He advanced slowly toward him, his bearing proud and the smirk never leaving his lips.
Loki was panting from the effort. He had to stop him.
He lunged at him, but the man effortlessly dodged the blow and struck him in the leg, causing him to lose his balance. He grabbed him by the throat and threw him to the ground.
Loki stifled a groan of pain.

“You could have had the entire universe in your hands, and you gave it up?” he asked, pressing harder.
Loki tried to wriggle free from the grip. He was starting to run out of air.

“I... I don't care,” he murmured with difficulty, gasping for oxygen.
The man's eyes narrowed and a light of anger invaded his mad gaze.

“Liar!” he shouted furiously. “You crave power! Revenge is what makes you who you are! Without it, what do you have left?”
Loki didn't answer. He had long since given up on his revenge. Pursuing it had only led him to suffer even more, to lose and to feel a great emptiness inside. He could finally feel free of that feeling, like a weight had been lifted from his heart.

“Revenge is no longer my purpose in life,” he whispered softly and smiled, which infuriated the variant, who pressed harder on his throat.
Now he couldn't breathe.

“It's for her, isn't it?” hissed the variant, his eyes burning with rage. “Are you giving up everything for her?” With his free hand, he materialized a dagger and began to sink it into his shoulder.
Loki screamed in pain as blood poured out profusely.

*

Sylvie watched with concern as the god of deception's face contorted into a grimace of pain. She hadn't left his side for a second.
Something bad was happening, she could feel it. Why did Loki have that expression on his face?

“We have to wake him up!” Sylvie said to the queen. Instead of listening to her, the queen's gaze hardened.

“Not yet,” she said in a whisper, watching her son's expression change.
Sylvie was incredulous. What did she mean, not yet? What was she waiting for, for something bad to happen to him? For him to die?
The queen looked extremely serious. Sylvie realized she was holding her breath.
How could she let her son suffer? Was she really that insensitive?
Sylvie felt anger rising inside her. She would not leave him alone.She reached out to touch his temple and use her power to enter his mind, but Frigga stopped her.

“Stop!” she shouted, her blue eyes moist. “It's not time to wake him yet!”
Sylvie trembled, both with anger and with the sense of helplessness she felt at that moment. For a moment, she thought of ignoring the queen's words and continuing what she was doing, but Frigga begged her to let her handle it. The goddess of deception bit her lip and cursed, irritated, sitting back down heavily in her chair and glaring at the woman in front of her. What Sylvie didn't know was that Loki and his mother had spoken shortly before entering the healing room.

“I need you to make me a promise, Mother,” the trickster said seriously in a low voice, once he was sure they were alone. Frigga nodded slightly, afraid to know what he wanted to tell her.

"Something is bound to happen in my dream, and Sylvie will want to wake me up. She's too impulsive, I know her by now, but I can't leave the dream without finding the answers I seek.“ He lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper and moved closer to her. ”Don't wake me until I tell you to. I'll give you free access to my mind, but don't enter it for any reason. Is that clear?"
Frigga had to promise, even though she was terrified. Something horrible was going to happen, she could feel it.

“All right,” she murmured, unconvinced. “Please be careful.”
Sylvie wrung her hands in a clear sign of agitation and concern. She refused to look Frigga in the eye, and the queen noticed. She could sense the girl's anguish and was grateful that Loki had found someone who cared so much about him. He had been alone for too long.
She smiled slightly. “Nothing will happen to him, I promise.”
Sylvie did not feel at all relieved by those words. She sighed and moved a little closer to him, thinking about what she would say to him as soon as he woke up. She would slap him and yell at him never to do anything so stupid and dangerous again without talking to her first, and then she would kiss him until her lips were swollen, her breath short, her heart racing.
She simply stared at Loki's deathly pale, sweat-drenched face. She touched his burning forehead and closed her eyes, letting her hand turn blue. She used her Jotun power to cool the area she was touching, and Loki's expression relaxed, if only slightly.

*

Loki felt his shoulder burning like hell. Even though it was a dream, the pain was all too real.
The man loosened his grip and Loki took a deep breath.

“I'll make you feel so much pain that you'll regret ever being born,” he said, finally moving away from the god of deception.
Loki pulled the blade from his shoulder, gritting his teeth so as not to utter a single moan. He didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing him suffer.

“I'm sorry I ruined your plan,” he said with a smirk as he got up. “My seidr won't help you.” "
Instead of getting angry or attacking him as he expected, the man threw his head back and let out an evil laugh.

“Do you really think you've thwarted my plans?” His green eyes, crazy and ruthless, narrowed. “You're not the only one here who has the seiðr I need.”
It took Loki a few moments to understand, and then, when he realized what he was referring to, his eyes widened.

“Wait!” he said, reaching out to grab him, but the man disappeared and in his place appeared a huge snake that wrapped itself around him, immobilizing him.

“You're not going anywhere. I can't let you get in my way,” hissed the variant through the snake. “I'll keep you here as my prisoner.”
A sudden pain made him groan. Corrosive venom dripped from the snake's teeth, drop by drop, touching the skin of the deceiver's face, burning him.Loki clenched his jaw to keep from making a sound, but he couldn't. The pain was too strong.

“I promised you the pain would be unbearable,” said the snake.
Loki closed his eyes and waited as the drops fell and burned his skin. The torture was slowly killing him.
He couldn't free himself or use seidr to defend himself. He was completely at the mercy of the man who had decided to hold him in his grip. He saw the variant walk away and, despite the intense pain, he couldn't help but ask him the question he had been asking himself for days.

“Tell me... just tell me if it was you who told Fàrbauti about Odin's attack and my abandonment.”
The man froze, surprised by the question, but decided to grant his wish.

“I told the queen that Laufey would abandon you and that Odin would attack the kingdom. I wanted her to bring you to me so I could take your seidr. You were born with great power, and Frigga knew it, which is why she taught you magic, to help you control it.”
Loki knew nothing of the danger of his power, not even that his mother had taught him so that he could control it. He was convinced that it was just a predisposition of his towards the magical arts, nothing more.
After all these years, he understood why Odin feared him. It wasn't because he disapproved of his use of magic, which he considered unmanly, as he had always thought, but because he feared that something dark and powerful would come out of him. The cause of Ragnarok.
He clenched his jaw and a sudden rage made him tremble. His family had kept another secret from him. And because of the variant, he had had to kill his mother. The only one in that cold ice palace who really wanted to protect him.

“I'll find a way to kill you,” Loki said angrily. “You will not interfere with my timeline.” Then he looked up and shouted, “Now!”
Frigga suddenly appeared, pushing the variant away with a powerful blue beam and dissolving the giant snake with a simple touch. The queen took Loki by the arm and murmured some runes before disappearing.

As soon as Loki opened his eyes, he sat up with a start. He was panting and touching his abdomen and face, checking that there were no wounds or blood. He had returned to reality and met Sylvie's worried gaze as she quickly approached him.

“What happened?”

“Where is he?” he asked anxiously, turning to the queen. “Where is Loki?”
The queen opened her mouth, confused. “I think... I think he's in his rooms. Why?”
Loki stood up, but lost his balance and had to grab hold of Sylvie to keep from falling.

“You need to rest, you can't get up,” his mother scolded him, taking him by the shoulders.

“There's no time! I have to find him!” he said, getting up and running towards the door, holding onto the wall.
He walked as fast as he could along the corridors of the palace. One hand clutched his side and the other used the wall for support. His head hurt terribly and he had to stop several times to catch his breath. That dreamlike journey had destroyed him. Even though the wounds weren't real, it was as if he had received each one amplified.
When he reached the younger prince's rooms, Loki felt his heart pounding in his chest. His hand was shaking. Was he really afraid to know what he would find on the other side?
Finally, he decided to enter, and the room was perfectly tidy, as always.
There was nothing wrong except for a figure near the window.
Loki put his arm out to signal to the two women not to come in. He knew exactly who it was.

“I admit it was a nice touch to have Frigga help you. I thought you would come alone.”
His voice was as cold as ice, just like in the dream. His face was hidden in the dim light.

"Who are you? Show yourself!" Frigga shouted, drawing her sword.

“Don't you recognize me?” said the variant, taking a step forward. “Mother?”
He said it with a contemptuous, resentful tone, full of hatred and frustration.
Frigga gasped and put her hand over her mouth. Sylvie's eyes widened in disbelief at what she was seeing.
Before them stood... a variant of Loki.
But how was that possible?
She turned to the god of deception on her left and saw his tense, stern expression... Fearful? She couldn't understand it. All she could see was his excessively pale face, the sweat sliding down his temple, and the labored breathing of someone who was struggling to even stand upright.

“What's going on?” Frigga could only manage to say this.

“That's Loki from another universe. Interfering with the Sacred Timeline has inevitably led to the multiverse colliding,” Loki explained seriously, without taking his eyes off the man in front of him.

“The multiverse? That's impossible, there can't be any open portals,” Sylvie said seriously.

“Well, apparently there are,” Loki said, moistening his lips. “The multiverse is something we know frighteningly little about. I'm not surprised there are intertwining realities we don't know exist.”

“Excellent explanation. I couldn't have done better myself.” The variant smiled amusedly, looking smugly at those present in the room. He loved the terror in their eyes; it made him feel invincible.
A scream forced Sylvie and Loki to turn toward the queen, who was staring in horror at what was in front of her.

“He's taking my baby away!” Under the man's arm was the lifeless body of baby Loki. He held him as if he were just another object, without any regard.

“Where do you think you're going?” hissed the god of deception, narrowing his eyes and drawing a dagger.
The variant approached the window. “If you don't mind, I have better things to do than waste my time with you insects,” he said. He moved his free arm with a jerk and a strong wind blew against them. They had to raise their arms and plant their feet to keep from falling.

“He's escaping!” Sylvie shouted.
The man ran to the balcony and jumped into the void. Loki followed him and did the same, using seiðr to cushion his fall. In the distance, he heard Sylvie curse and say she would catch up with him by going another way. She had not yet learned to use seiðr properly and cursed herself for not learning faster.
Once he touched the ground, Loki tried to run as fast as he could.  He threw a dagger at him, which the variant parried with a sword stroke.

“You're annoying,” the man yelled, stopping.

“A lot of people tell me that,” Loki smiled, assuming a battle stance.
Just as he was about to launch his attack, the child woke up and, realizing what was happening, let out a scream.

“Let me go! Let me go!” he cried at the top of his lungs, struggling to free himself from his grip.

“Shut up! If you keep screaming, I'll kill you!” he said, yanking him forcefully.
Loki saw the little boy's eyes fill with tears and bite his lip to keep from crying.
Then the man grabbed him by the neck and lifted him up to his eye level.

“You're really pathetic. A whiny brat who can't even defend himself. You're useless,” he said contemptuously.

“Help me, please!” he whispered hoarsely, looking in his direction. Loki swallowed at the sight of those desperate eyes.

“Put him down,” he said, narrowing his eyes.
The man smiled maliciously.

“All right, if you insist,” he said, and with the blade of the dagger he stabbed him through the middle of his small chest. Then he dropped him, and a pool of blood soon began to form around the child's body.
Loki heard a scream, but couldn't tell if it was his or his mother's. He tried to run towards him in a desperate attempt to save him, but after a few steps he felt the ground give way beneath his feet.
He fell to his knees, as if he had been struck in the chest by an unknown force. His vision was blurred and the voices around him sounded muffled. He realized with horror that his child self was dying, and he was dying with him. He slumped to the ground, his strength leaving him more and more, and someone knelt beside him, shouting something he couldn't understand.
The variant disappeared in a green light.
And the last thing Loki saw before closing his eyes was Sylvie calling his name and shaking him repeatedly as she cried.

Chapter Text

The cold of the Asgardian winter had given way to a pleasant spring breeze. The animals were beginning to emerge from their dens, and the first buds were appearing on the tree branches.
Loki carried a bundle of firewood under his arm that he had gathered in the woods that morning. He approached the wooden and stone house overlooking the river that separated the kingdom of Asgard from that of Vanheim. He had been living in that house for several years now, enjoying a tranquility and a monotony that was at times suffocating, at times pleasant. It had been a while since he’d lived in the palace, and, surprisingly, he realized he didn’t miss it at all. He was fine there, in that house he’d created himself with his seidr and which he shared with…

He stopped short.

There was something, thinking back on how he had arrived there, that didn’t sit right with him at all. The house, which he could see from a distance, was both familiar and unfamiliar. He remembered seeing it before, but the details of when and why vanished as soon as he tried to retrieve them from his memory. Why couldn’t he remember?
All of this was absurd because he knew he’d been living there for quite some time, after Odin’s forgiveness for his crimes against Asgard and Misgard. He had a home, a wife, and a peaceful life, just as he’d always wanted. What was wrong?
He decided to shake off that distressing feeling and continued on until he entered the house and set the firewood down next to the fireplace.
His wife turned and wiped her hands on her apron.
Loki startled at the sight of her.
Sigyn looked at him questioningly, not understanding the reason for that look.

“What’s wrong with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The god of mischief stood motionless. Why had he startled at the sight of her? They had been married for years now, and he remembered when, even before that, Sigyn would go down to the dungeons of Asgard to make sure the prisoners had their most basic needs met.
He had thought her foolish back then. A young girl who went down there with the presumption of knowing what he and the others needed. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she gathered her wide skirts and moved from cell to cell, showing a certain dedication and concern for those inside who deserved nothing. When Sigyn finally approached his cell, Loki lowered his gaze to his book and simply ignored her. He hoped this would be enough to make her stop asking him how he was, if he needed anything, and if she could, in some way, make that imprisonment less burdensome. He never answered her questions, convinced that she would grow tired of it sooner or later, but she showed remarkable stubbornness in coming down to that cramped place every day.

“How are you today?” she said in a timid, umpteenth attempt at conversation. Loki ignored her, pretending to be so absorbed in his reading that he didn’t notice her. Yet, ever since she had come down, he had never stopped watching her movements closely. He didn’t remember ever seeing her before—the small, sweet Sigyn with blonde hair and blue eyes. She, however, saw him, watched him, admired him. She saw him return triumphant from war, and though wounded, he never abandoned that haughty, proud demeanor that had always set him apart. Sigyn had always been amazed by his bearing, so similar to that of the Aesir, yet so different. He seemed to fear nothing and no one, so proud, so haughty.

Loki ignored her that day, just as he did the days that followed. He didn’t want to give any weight to a naive little girl. But the more he tried not to give her any weight, the more he found himself counting the time between one visit and the next, listening for footsteps to tell if they were hers—light and delicate—or the decisive ones of the guards.
He was waiting for her.
He waited with ever-growing eagerness for her to come down, to visit the prisoners, and, as was her custom, to stop in front of his window to ask him the usual questions. One day, however, Loki decided to look up from his book and met Sigyn’s gentle gaze, surprised that he was looking at her. He answered her questions in a friendly tone, but without emotion.
That was the day he stopped ignoring her, and it was the beginning of the end.

“You must stop coming down here,” he told her coldly after many months of visits and conversations. He looked at her through the glass and wondered what it would be like to hold her, what her lips tasted like, and what her pale skin smelled like. He desired her and knew that the more time passed, the more impossible it would be to do without her.

“You mustn’t waste your time with me, Sigyn. Out there, there will be a man who can give you what you desire.”

She lowered her gaze, and when she looked up again, her blue eyes were lifeless, veiled in liquid sorrow.

“The man I desire isn’t out there.”

As he looked at her, Loki realized that she was the only reason he hadn’t gone mad with rage, with the bitterness that was consuming him to the very core. She was becoming the only thing that gave meaning to his days, which were so pointlessly monotonous.

After that day, Sigyn didn’t come down for quite some time. Loki wondered if she had finally realized it had all been a waste of time, that she deserved something better than to be tied to a tormented being like him, but the idea that another might touch her, kiss her, made him furious.

Surprisingly, one day Sigyn came down, but she wasn’t alone. Odin was with her, and when he stopped in front of his cell, he saw him sigh.

“If you swear allegiance to Asgard and your king once more, you are free,” he said coldly, but Loki detected a hint of hope in his voice.

Sigyn had gathered her courage and gone to Odin to tell him she could no longer live like this, far from her beloved, and to lock her up with him in the dungeons to ease her pain. Wherever Loki went—into exile or to the gallows—she would follow him.

Odin was amazed by such loyalty and devotion, so much so that he named Sigyn the goddess of fidelity.

Loki decided to take advantage of that opportunity, and even though it cost him a fierce humiliation to have to stoop to asking for forgiveness, he accepted All-Father’s conditions.

He was released and restored to his powers and his rights as a member of the royal family. Within a few weeks, they were married, and the god of mischief accepted that temporary situation, planning to find a way to leave. He didn’t want to feel bound to anything or anyone, and his acceptance was merely a way to lull Odin into a false sense of

security. He knew the old king wanted to find a way to ensure his rebellious son wouldn’t run away again, to give him reason to believe he wasn’t heartless, and that if he had someone to protect, this would deter him from committing reprehensible acts.

They did not live in the palace.

He did not want Sigyn to be the subject of pointless and malicious gossip among bored and spiteful ladies. Finding a place far away was what she wanted as well.

That temporary period lasted much longer than expected, and in the meantime, two children were born, and a third was on the way.

The god of deceit swallowed hard as he watched her. He remembered how things had gone, yet the terrible feeling that something was wrong gripped him so tightly it took his breath away. The memories blurred, faded, and he couldn’t fathom why.

And yet there was absolutely nothing strange about it; everything was as it should be. As always.

He smiled at her. “Nothing, everything’s fine.”

Sigyn didn’t smile. “Thor was here earlier. He was looking for you. He was talking about a war.”

Loki sighed but didn’t answer.

“Your father is starting yet another war, isn’t he?”

“Odin is getting old and losing his clarity with each passing day. He feels increasingly threatened by the presence of peoples he considers hostile. It’s all in his head, but it’s becoming dangerous.”

“He swore he’d never call on you again. He promised.”

“We are Aesir,” he snapped. “It’s in our nature to fight.”

“I’ve always been loyal to you. Who are you loyal to, though?”

“To myself, to my land, to war,” he hissed. “You married the prince of the Aesir; don’t forget that.”

Sigyn sighed resignedly, and Loki noticed. He moved closer to her and softened his tone.

“The older my father gets, the more he’s consumed by delusions of grandeur. He wants to settle the matter with the frost and fire giants once and for all. He fears they might become a real threat.”

“And do you have to go?”

Loki knelt down, put some wood in the fireplace, and stoked the flames. He didn’t want to answer her, so she pressed him.

“Answer me. Do you have to go?”

“It’s my duty,” he cut her off.

“Isn’t it your duty to be with your family? Must I risk becoming a widow every single time?”

Sigyn was angry, disappointed. Understandably, his young wife was anxious whenever she saw him leave without knowing if he would return. He had sworn to her that he would no longer take part in Odin’s increasingly mad wars.

A vow the trickster would never keep, and he knew it.

Instinctively, she placed her hands on her belly, now rounded by pregnancy. Loki stood up and rested a hand on her small, delicate ones, which were protecting their unborn child.

“My only duty is to protect you and our children. The threat is real, Sigyn. The fire and ice giants have joined forces and broken through Asgard’s first lines of defense. Soon they will enter the realm, and it will be a massacre,” he murmured.

Sigyn’s eyes widened. “You already knew about this war, didn’t you? Why did you wait to tell me?”

Loki kept his back to her. The flames reflected off his tense face. He was torn between two agonizing loyalties: loyalty to his wife and loyalty to the kingdom he had sworn to defend with his life.

“Thor would have left me out of this if it weren’t so serious. You know he’s always had a soft spot for you,” he said, turning toward the window. “I’ll leave at dawn tomorrow. I’ll tell the boys myself tonight.”

Sigyn gave up. She would never be able to change his mind.

“Then go call Vali and Narfi and tell them lunch is ready. They’ll be playing by the river. I don’t want it to get too late,” she said in a whisper, trying to hold back her tears.

Loki didn’t move. Those names were familiar to him, and within a couple of seconds it occurred to him that they were his sons. Of course he had two sons—did he really have to stand there and think about it?

He went out to call them, and immediately two children ran toward him, out of breath and dirty.

“Go clean yourselves up; you look a mess,” he said sternly, and the two children obeyed promptly.

That had been his daily routine for quite some time now. The children played outside, he went out to call them and scolded them because they were always in a pitiful state, then they had lunch together. Yet a strange feeling gnawed at his stomach, as if all of this were wrong.

Loki.

He heard a voice in the distance calling him, but when he turned around, he saw that no one was there.

Who on earth could be calling him out here in the middle of nowhere?

He let it go and went back inside, doing everything exactly as it should be.

That afternoon, his children had insisted that he practice archery with them using the bows Uncle Thor had given them. They were the bows they’d used as children to train, and when he gave them to his nephews, they were thrilled.

“Where did you find them?” Loki asked, not remembering that their old bows were still around.

Thor smiled. “Our father is more nostalgic than we thought.” ”

He had indulged them, and once outside, he set up the target and helped the children hold the bow correctly and assume the proper stance.

“Keep your elbow up and pull the string as far toward you as possible. You have to be relaxed and don’t close your eyes. Keep them both open so you can aim properly,” he said, helping Vàli, the eldest, hold the bow correctly.

Loki.

That voice calling him again. Yet there was no one there; he was certain of it. He would have sensed it with his seiðr if anyone were nearby.

“Like this, Father?” said Vàli, releasing the arrow, which landed in the outermost ring of the target.
“You’re still too tense. Watch.” He took the bow from his son’s hands and shot an arrow that landed perfectly in the center of the target.
Both sons looked at him enthusiastically.
“Try again,” he said, handing him the bow once more.
Loki, wake up!

This time the voice grew more insistent. Enough—he couldn’t ignore it any longer; he had to find out who it was.

“Keep practicing; I’ll be right there.”

Loki followed the voice calling him, leading him deeper into the woods until he reached a clearing. The voice was clearer, but it mingled with the other sounds of nature.

He remained alert, listening intently, ready to defend himself if necessary. His trained ear immediately told him that someone was hiding among the thick branches of the undergrowth. He conjured a dagger and ordered whoever it was to show themselves.

When he saw a woman emerge, he was surprised. A long black cloak covered her entirely, and her face, white as snow, had fine, delicate features. On her forehead was the symbol of a crescent moon.

“Who are you?” Loki asked cautiously, observing the mysterious woman. “Why are you calling me?”

“It is not I who am calling you,” she said in a mellifluous voice.

“Don’t play games with me,” he replied icily, running his fingers over the hilt of the dagger hidden beneath his jacket.

The woman took a step toward him. “I am the Völva. I see the past, the present, and the future of every living being,” she said solemnly.

“What do you want from me?”

The Völva opened her hand and showed him an image.

There was a blonde woman sitting by the bed, stroking the hair and cheek of someone he couldn’t see. She seemed distraught, even angry. She was speaking, but he couldn’t understand what she was saying. When the woman moved her arm aside, he saw himself.

He gasped. What was he doing there, lying on a bed, with that woman who kept talking to him, touching him, crying?

“You must choose, Loki. Reality or fiction?” ”

He began to remember something. Images flashed violently through his mind.

His variant from another universe stabbing a child with a dagger.

Himself falling.

“Reality is the result of what we believe to be true. What is true for you?”

Loki didn’t answer. He didn’t understand what she was referring to. That had been his reality for a long time, a life he had struggled and fought tooth and nail to have.

He wouldn’t let a stranger deceive him.

Yet a voice inside him was screaming at him to open his eyes, to look beyond what he was believing now.

There was something he had to cling to in order to stay afloat.

“This is true for me,” he said cautiously, gesturing broadly with his arm to indicate his surroundings. “There is no other reality outside of this.”

The Völva remained impassive.

“If you’re convinced of that, I can do nothing to stop it,” she said, letting the image fall from her hand, and it opened up into a portal. “You must be sure of what you want. The choice will be yours alone, but be careful. There’s no turning back.”

Loki stiffened. He was faced with a choice and didn’t understand why. What was he supposed to choose? Why was she speaking to him like this?

He had to go back to his children, to Sigyn, to everything that was normal to him.

He was about to turn away, to leave that absurd decision behind him, when a voice from within the portal called out to him again.

Loki, please don’t leave me.

The voice was familiar.

She was begging him to stay.

Sylvie trying to wake him up.

Sylvie.

He had forgotten her. How was that possible?

Suddenly, all the memories came flooding back. He fell to his knees, clutching his head in his hands in pain.

He shut his eyes tight and screamed. It felt as if his head were about to explode.

He heard an endless array of different voices, and a multitude of images overlapped one another, driving him mad.

When it all stopped, he opened his eyes.

Now he remembered. He remembered the TVA, time travel, Sylvie, and why he was there.

He just didn’t understand why he was living in a reality that wasn’t his own.

“There are holes in the multiverse caused by a powerful force,” said the Völva, as if she had read his question in his mind. “You were one step away from death because of a disruption in your timeline.”

He remembered well the moment when he felt everything fade away.

“A breach opened in the delicate web of spacetime, and you ended up in a sort of limbo. This is the illusion you’d like to live in, while this…” she pointed to the portal on her left. “This is the reality that belongs to you, but that frightens you.” The Völva let her arm slide down her side. “Choose.”

Sylvie didn’t leave Loki’s bedside for even a moment. The servants brought her food at the queen’s command, but she wasn’t hungry. She barely nibbled at anything, just to please Frigga when she came to make sure she was eating.

She was afraid. Terrified of being left alone again.

Frigga and the healers managed to save the child thanks to their timely intervention. The injury was serious, but the queen was highly skilled in the healing arts, and thanks to her deep knowledge, she managed to avert the worst. But despite the time that had passed, the little one did not seem to be responding well to the treatment. He showed no

signs of improvement, but neither of worsening. Neither he nor Loki had woken up yet.

Sylvie twirled the pendant she’d received as a gift just a few months earlier between her fingers. It was the only gift she’d ever received from anyone.

“You made me a promise,” she said weakly. “You promised you’d come back. You can’t leave me alone. You said you’d always be there.” ”

Loki watched the entire scene through the portal.

Sylvie was calling out to him. She was pleading desperately for him to come back to her. He remembered the pendant and when she had given it to him. He remembered how she had made it appear on her bare skin—the only thing she was wearing at that moment. He remembered her gaze turning melancholy and how she had pressed herself against

him, seeking an embrace.

He only had to take one step toward the portal and he would be with her again.

Yet he didn’t move. Every muscle in his body was stiff and motionless.

“What happens to this reality if I go through the portal?” he said, staring intently at the Völva, who had remained motionless the entire time.

“This reality will simply cease to exist.”

Loki moistened his lips. He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it directly from her.

“And…” he took a breath. “What about my wife and children?” he asked, lowering his voice.

The woman waited a few seconds before answering. “They, too, will cease to exist.”

Loki pressed his lips together and stiffened. Would he lose them, then? Years of memories, of moments spent together?

He remembered the wedding ceremony where they had sworn fidelity to one another, the grace of Father All that had allowed him to start a new life, the birth of his children. Would he lose all of that?

Yet he knew it was fiction. He remembered everything, but the idea of being torn from that reality troubled him.

Perhaps because it was the only time he had ever felt truly happy.

Then he remembered Sylvie and how he loved to lose himself in her green eyes. The hand that caressed her blonde hair and savored those beautiful lips.

He remembered her crystal-clear laughter that made him smile, the moments spent outdoors lying on the grass, the movies he’d been forced to watch and found stupid.

A tear fell silently, tracing a path down his cheek.

He remembered when Sylvie told him she was afraid of being abandoned, and so he held her close in an embrace, swearing he would never leave her. He remembered all those stolen kisses, the moans in his ear when they made love, the tears he had wiped away when her armor showed cracks.

Another tear slid down, falling to the ground.

All those moments, those real moments—he was losing them. He was forgetting them bit by bit, erased forever.

“This reality… has already been lived by someone, hasn’t it?” Loki asked, continuing to watch the portal.

The Völva nodded, surprised by his insight. “Realities and memories can overlap if the multiverse remains open. You are united now. You will see and experience what you never wanted to see. You will feel and experience everything the other has lived through. Their memories, their pain, their anger.”

Loki realized that what he was experiencing was the life lived by the variant. The one who had managed to traverse all realities until she reached him. He could feel her affection for Sigyn, for her children, for everything she now had after leaving her thirst for vengeance behind.

Now their stories had merged because of the open multiverse, and he was retracing what the variant had experienced. Why, then, had she left this reality? Why did she have this thirst for power and revenge?

He clenched his fists tightly.

He had to see and understand what had happened to the variant, and to do that, he had to retrace her story.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

*

When the door to the room opened, Sylvie gasped. Frigga entered and slowly approached her.

“My dear, get some rest,” she said in a loving yet firm tone. She hadn’t left the healing chamber for days, waiting for even the slightest sign of improvement from Loki. She was exhausted, despondent, and weighed down by an unbearable burden.

The infant Loki, kept in a separate room, had been saved thanks to Frigga’s powerful magic. If it hadn’t been for her, he would have died. Both of them would have died. Now the only thing to do was wait patiently and hope that the Norns would be merciful.

Sylvie turned toward the Queen of Asgard, her gaze weary, marked by deep dark circles under her eyes. Frigga gently took her by the shoulders in a gesture meant to instill calm and comfort.

To Sylvie, it seemed like nothing more than a desperate gesture.

“I’ll stay here with him,” Frigga said after a brief pause. The girl shook her head and bit her lower lip.

Gently, she helped her to her feet and escorted her to the door, telling her that, whatever happened, she would let her know immediately.

Sylvie didn’t want to be sent away, but she was grateful for the queen’s thoughtfulness and sensitivity. Even though she had known her for only a few days, she treated her with care, showing her affection and attention. Like a daughter. Instead of feeling comforted by this treatment, Sylvie felt even more alone. Her real mother was gone, as was her

entire family, and now even Loki was about to abandon her.

She wiped her teary eyes with the back of her hand and swore that that variant would pay dearly. She would find him and kill him, even if it meant chasing him across the entire universe.

She walked toward the room they had been given during their stay in Asgard, and a little further on, she saw a child sitting with his back against the wall, his knees drawn up to his chest, his face hidden in his arms. His shoulders were heaving with sobs. When Sylvie was just a few steps away, the little boy looked up, and she met two large blue eyes

red from crying. She recognized the long blond hair falling to his shoulders and the chubby face belonging to Odin’s firstborn son.

Thor hurried to wipe his eyes and sniffle. “What do you want?” he mumbled, turning away.

Sylvie’s gaze softened. “I’m sorry…” she said softly, stroking his hair, and Thor, unable to hold back, threw himself into her arms. He pressed himself against her chest and began to sob, clutching the edges of his leather armor.

Sylvie was taken aback by the gesture and simply stroked the young prince’s head.

“It’s my fault…” she said, her voice breaking.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yes, it is! If… if I hadn’t sent Loki away, he…” She pulled away and wiped her nose with the sleeve of her shirt.

“He wanted to come with us, with me and Sif, but we told him to leave because… because we didn’t want him underfoot…”

Thor closed his eyes as tears began to stream down his cheeks again. “If we hadn’t sent him away, he wouldn’t have been alone, and the bad man wouldn’t have hurt him. I would have protected him…”

Sylvie tried to stroke his head, but he pulled away. “I don’t want my brother to die. Please, do something,” he said as his voice grew fainter and fainter.

“He won’t die. I promise.”            

*

Loki returned home and found his sons practicing archery. From the window, Sigyn watched her husband crouch down to the children’s height and talk to them. Moments later, Vali and Narfi’s eyes widened, and they threw themselves into their father’s arms, soaking his jacket with their tears.

Sigyn’s heart ached at the sight, and she tried to etch the scene firmly into her mind, for it might be the last time Loki embraced his sons.

He had always come back, she told herself as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. He will return this time as well.

The war was far harder and more difficult than they had ever imagined. Odin died on the battlefield, pierced by a spear. It was the most honorable way the king of the Æsir could die. At the head of his army, on the front lines defending his kingdom. Despite his guaranteed entry into Valhalla, Thor was consumed by a hatred and thirst for vengeance

that completely transformed him. Loki no longer recognized the brother of noble ideals, always ready to help others.

He became a king who was at times a tyrant, where no one dared to contradict him. He wanted only to hear what he wanted to hear: a definitive way to crush the accursed giants.

Not even Sif and the three warriors had a say in the decisions Thor made. His rage led him to make illogical decisions that caused heavy losses among both soldiers and civilians.

Sif went so far as to beg Loki, through her tears, to make him see reason. “Please, do something. He’s completely lost his mind.”

So he strode through the door of the throne room with such ferocity that he hurled the two guards defending the entrance against the wall with a powerful blow of seidr; they crashed into the wall and never rose again.

“I did not summon you, Loki,” Thor said coldly from his throne.

“I don’t care if you didn’t summon me,” he said, stopping in the center of the hall. “Put an end to this mad war, Thor. We have no chance of winning.”

The god of thunder slammed his fist down hard on the armrest of the throne. “Are you asking for surrender now, too? I trusted you, brother. But you can’t seriously think I’d surrender.”

“Balder is dead,” he replied icily. Thor’s gaze hardened and he clenched his jaw, but said nothing.

Loki moistened his lips. “His injuries were too severe. He didn’t make it,” he said in a flat tone, without any particular inflection.

“He deserved Valhalla. Now he’s raising a toast with Odin and Bor.”

“He would never have survived this war. Our brother was too good,” he said, lowering his voice and betraying a certain ill-concealed anger in his tone. Thor seemed not to care one bit about what had happened to their brother, the young Balder.

He had been born several years after them and was so sensitive and gentle that he was called Balder the Good. There was one occasion when Loki went hunting with his very young brother, and just as he was about to shoot an arrow at a doe, Balder clung to his arm and begged him not to do it because perhaps there was a fawn waiting for it. His eyes

were glistening, and Loki ended up sighing in exasperation, sheathing his bow, and climbing onto the horse’s back. On the return journey, Balder kept his head down the whole time, ashamed for having interrupted him, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“You’re too soft, Balder. You’ll end up getting yourself killed because you won’t have the courage to fight back,” he said reproachfully, looking at him. Loki didn’t know it, but he was foreshadowing what would happen years later on a battlefield in a last-ditch attempt to save Asgard. He couldn’t muster enough aggression to fight his way through a

horde of enraged giants.

Thor stroked his beard in a manner terribly reminiscent of Odin’s, and seeing their father’s habitual gesture—the cause of that war and that loss—made him lose his patience.

“We’ve been at war for three years! The people are dying of hunger, disease, and hardship! Don’t you really care?” he shouted furiously.

The enemies had destroyed Asgard’s supply routes, eliminating the wagons carrying food and medicine. Within a few months, Asgard was plagued by famine.

The Deceiver took a step closer. “Let’s ask for surrender, Thor, please.”

He hadn’t heard from his wife in weeks; all communication had been cut off. He spent his days in agonizing fear that his children had fallen ill and there was no cure, or that they couldn’t get enough food.

Thor, in response, laughed. “You, of all people, stooping to beg me? You, of all people, asking to surrender and submit to the enemy?”

Loki narrowed his eyes. “I haven’t heard from Sigyn in six weeks, Thor. Nor from my children. Your nephews,” he said, emphasizing the last part. He knew full well how much his brother adored his nephews, and until recently he had been convinced that Thor would protect them even at the cost of his own life. But now, Thor’s hard, impassive gaze

made him waver in that conviction.

“Sometimes, to achieve victory, sacrifices are necessary,” he said coldly, leaving Loki speechless. “Do you want to go home? Do it! Abandon your soldiers to die while you flee like a coward!”

Loki felt every muscle in his body tense and stiff. He was taking those blows with extraordinary self-control despite his anguish for Sigyn, his exhaustion from the long war, and the throbbing pain in his shoulder from his recent wound.

“I’ve considered hundreds of different strategies, Thor. I haven’t slept in months so as not to waste a single moment searching for a way to win. I’ve infiltrated enemy lines time and again to find a weak spot; I’ve risked my life every single day for victory,” he said in a hoarse voice. “But we have no chance left. Our soldiers are decimated, starving, and

too weak to withstand another attack. If we surrender now, we can prevent the extermination of our people.”

Thor stopped smiling and sprang to his feet. “Your people? You’re not an Asgardian!” he thundered furiously. “Your blood is as filthy as that of the giants out there who killed my father. You’re a bastard son raised here only out of pity. Asgard does not belong to you, neither now nor ever.”

Loki stood motionless as his brother hurled insults at him. He drew the sword he carried at his left hip. “You are not worthy to stand upon Hliðskjálf, brother. Tell me, how long has it been since you could no longer lift Mjölnir?”

A flash of fury lit up Thor’s blue eyes. No longer being worthy to lift the hammer only intensified his resentment, his thirst for vengeance, and his hatred.

“I didn’t want it to come to this, but the madness that has overtaken you is leading us to utter ruin. We are dying because of you.”

Thor took the spear that had belonged to Odin and pointed it at the trickster.

“I bet you’ve allied yourself with your own kind to take my throne. Am I right, you filthy traitor?”

Loki realized that his brother was completely lost, out of control. He had to eliminate him, and to do so, he had to set aside the affection he had, after all, always felt for him.

They lunged at each other, drawing their weapons to use them to the fullest extent of their power and strength.

Even though more than three years had passed, his home was still the same. Smoke rose from the chimney, and tranquility and silence reigned supreme.

Too much silence.

Loki limped toward his home, gravely wounded. In his good hand, he clutched the dented helmet with a broken horn—the one he had used to impale Thor and end his life. He had hesitated before doing it. He begged him to stop in a last desperate attempt to end the fight without necessarily killing each other. But Thor showed not the slightest sign of

hesitation as he raised Gugnir to deliver a devastating, fatal blow. It was then that Loki realized nothing would stop him, and, reaching out to grab the helmet lying nearby, he used the remaining horn to pierce him. He had to use his last ounce of strength to move his brother’s lifeless body, while behind him Sif let out a heart-wrenching scream.

The god of thunder was dead, and Loki, as his successor, surrendered to Malekith. Asgard belonged to the dark elves and the giants now, but he didn’t care. He wanted to go home and find a way to leave with his family.

Malekith granted him permission to leave; after all, he had taken Thor out of the picture and done him a great favor. He gave him a wicked, sadistic smile before he left, but Loki didn’t pay it much mind. He was in a hurry.

There, in the tall grass, he spotted something. He crept closer until he realized what it was, and then he started running. He dropped his helmet and ignored the throbbing pain that was clouding his mind.

He had to see. He had to know.

The figures lying face down, hidden in the grass, petrified him instantly. He had already realized who they were, but he didn’t think it could really be them.

His wife and children were there, dead. Even the little girl he had never met lay there among them.

They had likely been killed in an act of revenge.

Loki fell to his knees and gave vent to his grief in uncontrollable sobs.

Behind him, someone approached.

The Völva stood beside him.

“Why did you make me see these things?” he asked in a whisper.

“It was you who wanted to see.”

“I didn’t believe… I didn’t know…”

“In every existing universe, you are destined to lose, Loki. You always lose, and the people closest to you are the ones who pay the price.”

“There is no such thing as destiny, you cursed Völva. Neither you nor the Norns decide.”

“And yet it always ends the same way. You destroy with your own hands what you create. No matter how hard you try, in the end, you’ll lose everything. And you’ll be left alone.”

Loki stood up and looked at her sternly. Tears still wet his face, worn down by war, fatigue, and pain. It couldn’t all be reduced to this—to something predetermined that the Norns decided in advance, weaving an inescapable future. A future that, in his case, always ended in the exact same way.

“I’ll show you that you’re wrong, that all of you are wrong.” His eyes, faded green from what he had seen over the past three years, regained their brilliance. A new light illuminated his gaze.

“I will change my destiny.”

The insistent knocking woke Sylvie from a dreamless sleep. At first, she convinced herself it was just a dream and rolled over, pulling the blankets up over her head. When she realized the knocking hadn’t stopped, she opened her eyes wide and rushed to answer the door. One of the healers stood right in front of her and, in a gentle and polite

manner, explained the reason for his persistence. As soon as Sylvie heard his words, she rushed out without caring that she was barefoot and wearing only a nightgown.

She arrived panting at the healing hall, where she saw young Loki sitting on the bed while Thor hugged him, crying uncontrollably. All attempts to pry the boy away from his brother were in vain; they were locked in an embrace that seemed to have no end. Loki tried to pull away, but Thor wouldn’t let him go until Frigga managed to calm him down

and convince him that he could sit there next to him on the bed for as long as he wanted.

Sylvie took a few steps and saw her Loki arguing with a healer, insisting that he was fine and didn’t need any further visits or to stay there any longer. She approached until he saw her and immediately stopped talking. He looked at her for a long moment, wondering how he could have forgotten her.

Seeing her made him forget what he had seen and endured, reminding him why he had come back. He had promised he would never abandon her, no matter what happened, and he cursed himself for nearly doing so. Sylvie didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve for him to make her suffer. How could he have risked losing everything for a false reality?  

“Sylvie, I…” He didn’t finish his sentence before she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into an embrace.

“Shh, don’t say a word,” she said in a barely audible voice as she closed her eyes and fought back the tears.

Loki held her close, burying his face in her hair and breathing in the scent he had never forgotten.

Chapter Text

Chpater 14:This is what you asked for

Morning light filtered through the half-open curtains, casting shadows on the floor. Loki sat on the edge of the bed, clutching the mattress tightly. The images from the dream were still vivid in his mind, and he had to close his eyes when he recalled the most painful parts. Even though it didn’t concern his own life, it was still something that had happened to him—albeit not directly. He had clearly felt the variant’s pain and rage at seeing his kingdom destroyed and the people he loved killed. Now he understood his true motivations, why he had gone so far with the intention of taking everything away from him. He was blinded by rage and vengeance and wanted him to suffer exactly as he had.
He still didn’t know how the variant had crossed the multiverse, but he didn’t care now. The only thing he wanted to do was get rid of that threat and go back to his old life.

He sighed.

Maybe it wouldn’t be that simple.

He had forgotten Sylvie, and he still couldn’t accept that. It hadn’t been entirely his fault, he knew, and yet he had forgotten her of all people—the one person in the universe he never wanted to erase from his memories.

Was he really about to leave behind everything he had experienced with her, all the memories they had built together, for an illusion?

The door opened and a maid entered with a tray in her hand. She set it on the small table nearby and curtsied.

“Queen Frigga requests that you be treated with the utmost care. She asked me to bring you lunch and to make sure you eat something,” she said in a soft, respectful tone. Loki could sense a hint of curiosity in the girl’s words, surprised that the queen was granting him special treatment—he was, after all, just a stranger.

“They say at the palace that you saved Prince Loki’s life,” she continued, pouring tea into a cup. “We thank you for your courage and for risking your life for His Highness. We are grateful to you,” she said, giving him another brief bow.

Loki had never heard such words spoken to him before. He wasn’t the hero; he was never treated as one. Even when he saved the life of some soldier or Thor himself, his deeds were never remembered. Thor was supposed to play the part of Asgard’s heroic savior, not him. He had saved a child simply because he was himself. Would he have done it if it had been someone else?

“I’m not hungry,” he said after a brief pause, and the maid shifted uncomfortably.

“The queen asked me to stay until you eat something.”

Loki snorted in annoyance. “I don’t need a nanny; I can take care of myself. So, please, just go.”

He knew his mother just wanted to make sure he was okay, but he couldn’t stand being treated like a child. He didn’t need anyone telling him to eat, nor did he need anyone watching over him.

The maid swallowed uncomfortably. “I have to…”

“If you don’t eat something, I’ll shove it down your throat myself.”

Sylvie stood against the doorframe with her arms crossed. She glared at him for a moment, then whispered something in the maid’s ear, and the maid nodded, leaving them alone.

Loki sat up and realized he was still terribly weak. He hadn’t fully recovered yet, despite the three days spent in complete rest, forced upon him by Frigga despite his protests.

Sylvie had her own way of showing she cared about him. The only gesture of affection she allowed herself was the embrace she gave him when she saw him wake from that long sleep. She buried her face in his neck and pulled him close with a gesture that smacked of desperation and fear. She’d been afraid of losing him, and she showed it by holding

him in a way she’d never done before.

Now she was there to make sure everything was all right.

Loki managed a half-smile. “I’m afraid you might be serious, judging by that look.”

“I am serious, in fact.” "

The man moved closer slowly, still weakened by his headache and exhaustion. When he reached her, he stretched out a hand to touch her.

Sylvie held her breath at his closeness. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and make him hers right there, in that very moment. Yet ever since he’d woken up, she’d found him strange, distant. He hadn’t spoken much to her those days, but despite his silence, she knew there were actually a thousand unspoken words.

Instead of grabbing her as she’d thought, he took a focaccia from the tray behind her and brought it to his mouth.

Loki walked away, reaching the large window overlooking the royal gardens. The maids strolled leisurely, accompanying the queen on her usual morning walk. Her mother chatted idly with the other women, but Loki didn’t miss the brief glances she cast toward his window.

“You really don’t want to tell me anything?”

Loki heard Sylvie’s impatient voice behind him. He wondered how long it would be before she lost her patience. He knew she had sensed something; he could tell from the tense, nervous way she’d been approaching him ever since he’d woken up. He’d known her long enough to recognize when she was eager to broach a subject. He knew how to wait; she didn’t.

And indeed, her patience had now reached its limit.

“Tell you what?” Loki asked flatly.

“You know what. Don’t lie to me.”

With a sigh, the trickster turned and looked into her light eyes, which were visibly in turmoil. She was angry, and he could imagine why. He had spoken to her only sporadically these past few days and had rejected her advances. He didn’t feel like pretending nothing had happened, not after what he’d seen. He could still see the images of his variant’s

murdered family flashing before him, and though it had faded, he still felt that pain.

You are destined to bring death and pain, chaos and war, so that those close to you may become better versions of themselves. You are destined to lose, Loki, in your timeline and in every existing timeline. You are not the hero. You never will be.

The words Mobius had spoken to him the first time they met still echoed in his mind, and despite his many efforts, he had never been able to shake them off. Although his friend, one day, admitted that perhaps a Loki could deviate from what had been prescribed for him. With a drink in his hand and a wistful smile, he told him he’d been wrong all that time. A Loki could still bring happiness and joy to someone close to him. He said this, pointing to Sylvie, a little further away, who was laughing with her friends from the TVA.

Although he appreciated Mobius’s words of apology, he never fully believed what he said. A happy Loki could not exist, much less make anyone happy.

And he was still convinced of this. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much effort he put in, he would destroy everything. What happened to his variant was proof of that, and he couldn’t afford to go through the same thing.

“I have nothing to say to you, Sylvie.”

The words struck Sylvie like an arrow straight to the chest. Once again, he was keeping her in the dark and excluding her from everything that concerned him. Loki had barricaded himself behind an impenetrable wall of coldness that would keep anyone who even tried to approach him at bay.

But this time she wouldn’t let that wall divide them. This time she would confront him.

“You really have nothing to tell me? Not even about what you went through while I was here waiting for you?”

Loki narrowed his eyes. How did she know what he had seen?

“Did you look into my mind?” he asked sharply.

“It was the only way to try to wake you up.”

Sylvie had tried numerous times to enter his mind to see if there was a way to bring him back to her. She wanted to try to wake him from within his mind, but even though he was asleep, he was impenetrable.

One day, however, she managed to catch a glimpse of something.

Though brief, she saw Loki in Asgard, with his family, living the life he had always wanted.

She saw nothing but the moment spent with Sigyn, embracing in the kitchen, and his children running toward him to tell him what they’d discovered while playing in the woods.

That was enough to make her realize there would be no room for her. She could never give him what he wanted.

“What did you see?” Loki asked in a hoarse voice, moving closer until he was just a few inches from her.

When he saw she wasn’t answering, he took her by the shoulders. “Sylvie, tell me what you saw!”

“I saw you, happy with the family you would have wanted to have with Sigyn,” she murmured as her eyes glistened. “You had children with her… you truly loved them.”

Sylvie had never even remotely imagined having children of her own. It was absurd to even think she could have what normal people have. Her chaotic nature prevented her from wondering if she, too, could be like everyone else.

Loki let go of her and took a few steps back. So that was what she thought? That he was happy in that illusion?

“It’s not what you think,” Loki said after a brief pause. “There was nothing real about what I experienced, Sylvie. My life here, with you, is real.”

Sylvie shook her head. “Why do you keep lying to me? Why?” she said as the tears she’d been holding back began to fall.

Loki pressed his lips together and hated himself for what he was doing to her. He was destroying everything with his own hands again.

“Sylvie…”

“I want to trust you, Loki, I really do. But all you do is lie to me. You promised you’d never do that to me.”

“And that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m not lying to you.”

“You told me that everything with me was new, that you’d never felt anything for anyone before. And I believed you because I wanted to believe you. I needed to. But you loved another woman before, and it was with her that you wanted to build a life, not with me.”

Sylvie trembled with the anger and disappointment those words brought. She never would have thought he was hiding such a secret from her. She had never been important to him, and she finally understood that.

Loki said nothing and didn’t move. Even though he was losing her, he couldn’t move a muscle or speak. He was petrified as he realized that his greatest fear was coming true: being left alone.

Seeing no reaction from him, Sylvie knew she was right. Loki didn’t really want her; she was just a fallback because he hadn’t been able to get what he wanted.

The woman turned to leave, but Loki, in a sudden burst of emotion, grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward him, cupping her face in his hands.

Sylvie grabbed his wrists and squeezed tightly in an attempt to free herself from his grip. She struggled with all her might until Loki’s lips met hers. That touch, so desperate and sincere at the same time, managed to calm her just a little. She had missed him absolutely, completely. She had never felt as lost and fickle as she did in that moment. Loki

had been her anchor from the very first moment they’d met, and from that moment on, everything revolved around him. Her life, her entire existence, was stable only because Loki had given her everything she needed. A stable place, friends, someone to come back to.

“You’re the only one who really matters to me. You have to trust me, Sylvie.” He breathed on her lips, and she closed her eyes. She wanted to believe those words with all her heart, but she couldn’t. She would never be able to again.

A silent tear slid to the ground.

Loki would never be completely hers. His chaotic and fickle nature would always put obstacles between them. Obstacles made of lies and deceit.

She opened her eyes at that realization and pushed him away in a fit of rage.

Loki understood her anger and so he moved closer again, but she grabbed the food from the tray and started throwing it at him.

“Go away!” she shouted. “You’re always the same! You’ll never change!”

“Sylvie, stop it!” he said, dodging the food.

“You can’t keep anyone close to you! Everyone has always hated you, and you know what I say? They’re right because that’s what you deserve!” she raged, no longer holding back her words. She didn’t care if she hurt him. She couldn’t live among his lies and deceit.

Loki caught a piece of fruit that was flying toward his face and crushed it by clenching his fist tightly.

“That’s enough!” he shouted in a fit of rage, and his uncontrolled seiðr unleashed a pale green wave that destroyed everything in the room.

Sylvie collapsed to her knees, and Loki rushed to her to see what he had done to her. He brushed her hair from her face and saw with horror that he had left cuts on her forehead and cheeks. He reached out to touch her wounds, but she pulled away with a sharp gesture.

“Don’t touch me…” she murmured in a trembling voice.

“Sylvie… I… I didn’t mean to…”

“I can’t, Loki, I can’t…” Sylvie continued in a low voice. “She isn’t the problem; you are. Your inability to trust me, to trust anyone. You keep lying, manipulating, and then expect me to stay by your side as if nothing happened.” She raised her head and looked him in the eyes. “Two Lokis can’t expect to live happily like everyone else. We destroy

everything around us because we’re selfish. We only think of ourselves, and that leads us to do things we later regret.”

Loki swallowed at those words because he knew there was a grain of truth to them. He had never done anything for others. He always thought of himself, even though this had led him, over time, to have no one he could trust. He had entrenched himself for centuries in the belief that he didn’t need anyone. The only person to whom he had opened his

heart had been taken away from him because agreements and prestige mattered more than his feelings. He had sworn he would never bond with anyone else again, and the scars of that vow were still visible.

Sylvie stood up and headed for the door, leaving him on the floor lost in his thoughts. Before closing the door behind her, she said one last thing to him. “It is in our nature to remain alone. And I… I can no longer be the one who tries to change you.”

Loki felt the seiðr coursing through his veins uncontrollably. He kept thinking about Sylvie’s words, realizing just how true they were. Everything around him began to burn. Green and gold flames engulfed the bed, the curtains, the table, and were closing in on him as well. He could see what was happening around him but was powerless to do anything. His seiðr was broken, shattered to the point where he could no longer control it. He had never felt his magic react in such an uncontrolled way.

Only after a long period of concentration and with no small amount of effort was he able to guide the seiðr and extinguish the flames.

*

Frigga was deep in thought, reflecting on the events of the past few days. The images flowed endlessly, like a raging river overwhelming her with thoughts and emotions. Seated in the armchair facing the window, she gazed at the blue sky of Asgard.

She turned slightly and smiled. “It seems I taught you well.”

Loki was standing behind her, having arrived silently, evading the defensive runes in her private chambers, which were active when she did not wish to be disturbed.

“I’m sorry for violating your runes and being here without your invitation, Mother.” His tone was low and subdued, and he took a step closer. “I need to speak with you.”

Frigga rose from her comfortable position and joined her son, softening her gaze and smiling lovingly.

“Go ahead. You know you’re always welcome, and you don’t need my invitation to speak with me.”

Loki sighed and paused for a long moment before speaking. “Why didn’t you ever tell me anything?”

Frigga’s smile faded, and her gaze grew melancholy. “I’ve wanted to tell you so many times, but I didn’t want you to feel different. I’m sorry I kept what you truly are a secret from you; it breaks my heart to know it makes you feel so bad, but please believe me when I say that to us, you are and always will be our son, and we are your family.”

It wasn’t easy for Loki to stay calm when his mother said those words to him. He’d wanted to hear them for so long that by now he’d given up hope. Frigga looked at him with sorrow, as hurt as he was by all the lies he’d been forced to live with. Loki knew she’d done it only for his own good, but how could she have thought he’d never discover his origins? How could she have thought such a lie would last for centuries and centuries?

He would have so much liked to forget that part of himself and pretend none of this had ever happened. To go back to the time when his only concern was excelling in the study of the magical arts.

“I truly believed I was acting for your own good. I ask you to forgive us,” the woman murmured in a whisper.

Loki was taken aback.

Forgiveness.

It wasn’t something he granted easily to anyone—in fact, perhaps no one had ever even asked him for forgiveness—and this left him unsettled.

Loki lowered his gaze. “And… my powers? You kept what I truly am hidden from me out of fear, not because I’m a Jotun.”

Frigga bit her lip and motioned for him to sit down. Lying wasn’t the answer, and it was time to lift that veil of lies that had weighed upon him for centuries.

“Your true mother was a powerful ice mage. You inherited her magic, and it was that power that saved you. Odin heard you because your magic called to him. It was so strong it managed to touch his own.” » She paused briefly before continuing. « Ice giants rarely manage to handle such power; they aren’t cut out for the magical arts. One day, when you were very young, something made you so angry that it unleashed all your power. I had never felt such destructive power before. Some of the priests even compared it to the power of Surtur. »

Loki swallowed. “Ragnarok.  That’s why the seers foresaw the destruction of Asgard.”

The queen nodded. “You could barely walk, and yet you already possessed such power. That’s why I placed a protective seal on you and taught you everything I know. That way, you’d be able to control it.”

Loki listened intently. His aptitude for seiðr wasn’t due to chance, but to a very specific reason—a legacy. His true mother had bequeathed him this power of hers, so unique, rare, and destructive.

But surprise quickly gave way to disappointment.

He’d been convinced that his mother had taught him magic to share something of her own with him, to forge a unique bond between mother and son. The moments spent with her were the fondest memories he had of his childhood, the only times he could truly feel like himself.

Instead, Frigga hadn’t wanted to share her magic with him; she’d been forced to do so to prevent him from becoming a danger. He felt as though he no longer belonged anywhere. Not even his bond with his mother had been genuine, and now he no longer knew what to believe.

He felt his seiðr in turmoil, searching for a way to break free and unleash itself without any control. Loki managed to keep it at bay just before it spread into a destructive wave, and this did not go unnoticed by Frigga. She saw Loki’s face contort into a grimace and sweat beading on his forehead.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” she asked, looking at him intently.

“I…” Loki began hesitantly. He licked his lips, unsure whether to tell her what was happening. The seiðr pushed again, desperate to break free, and Loki decided he wouldn’t keep this problem to himself. “My seiðr… I can’t control it anymore…” he murmured weakly, defeated.

Frigga wanted to embrace him and hold him close, to comfort him and stroke his hair in a gesture of solace.

But the Loki standing before her was not the child she used to cuddle and who would run to her for help. He was a grown man.

“Give me your hands,” said the queen, and Loki held them out to her hesitantly. He turned his palms upward and closed his eyes. She looked deep inside him until she found the core from which his magic sprang.

“Your inner conflict is preventing you from properly controlling the seiðr. It’s reacting to something that’s wearing you down from within and…”

“What’s wearing me down is not knowing who I am!” he snapped, pulling his hands away from hers and standing up. He ran his fingers through his dark hair and then spread his arms wide, exasperated by it all.

“I’m not a Jotun, nor am I an Aesir. I’m not a warrior or a sorcerer. I’m nothing!” he blurted out angrily. Frigga gently took his hands.

“You are a Jotun, born among the ice and abandoned shortly after birth,” she said softly, and a sphere of blue energy formed in Loki’s left hand. “But you are also an Ase, welcomed and raised as one of them.” A green sphere formed in his right hand instead.

“You are the son of Queen Fàrbauti, who loved and protected you with her life, but you are also my son, and I will love you as such even though you are not my blood.” The spheres grew brighter and brighter.

“You are both, my son. And when you accept who you are, your seiðr will respond, returning to what it once was.” He clasped his hands together, and the two spheres merged, creating a unique color never seen before.

Loki was surprised to see how the magic now reacted positively. The aqua-green sphere shone with a bright, pulsating light, no longer pale and weak as before. He hadn’t believed that what he had gone through had managed to scar him so deeply, even ruining the core from which his magic sprang.

With a sigh, the man removed his hands from his mother’s and clenched them into fists.

“I hurt her…”

Frigga softened her gaze and guided him to sit down. She let him take his time to speak.

“I hurt Sylvie, and that’s why I lost her,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Mother, what should I do?”

Many years had passed since, as a child, he had stood in that room seeking guidance from the only person he ever asked for it. He had never opened up to anyone but her. And he didn’t think he needed his mother at that moment more than ever before.

The queen placed a hand on his cheek. “You didn’t hurt her because you wanted to, Loki,” she said in a soft, reassuring tone. “She knows that, trust me. You just have to… make her understand. You’re not as bad as you think you are; you never have been.”

His mother’s insight was astonishing. She had understood so much about him simply by observing him for those few days. It didn’t surprise him, to be honest, because she had always had the ability to see beyond what others focused on. Frigga always went deeper to try to understand her youngest son’s actions and feelings; others stopped at appearances.

“Thank you,” Loki whispered, and Frigga gave him a faint smile. Loki returned it with a brief nod.

The smile on Frigga’s lips faded.

“There’s… one more thing I need to tell you.”

Loki held his breath, afraid of what else he might discover. He didn’t know if he could take another blow.

“The variant’s actions have significantly influenced the course of events. Your father fears this might compromise the sequence of events in this timeline.”

The trickster parted his lips but said nothing. Then he laughed bitterly.

“My father is afraid of losing power and stability, not that anything might happen to me.”

“Loki…” Frigga admonished him gently. “Your father doesn’t think that of you, you know. But I’ve thought about it at length myself, and I fear he isn’t entirely wrong. To ensure everything unfolds correctly, it is necessary to erase the memories of those who have suffered the variant’s attacks.”

“You want to erase everyone’s memory? No, I won’t accept that!” he said, his gaze hardening. “Every time there’s a problem, your solution is to bury everything under a blanket of lies. You can’t pretend nothing happened, nor make others believe there was no danger. I won’t be a victim of your deceptions again,” he hissed furiously.

Frigga sighed, knowing that Loki would not accept that choice.

“Come with me.”

She led him into her private study and had him look into a large basin filled with water. The water reflected the image of a tired, haggard face.

“It’s not your memory that will be erased, nor Sylvie’s.” She moved her hand over the water, and images began to appear. “But since the Variant attacked, certain dynamics between you and Thor have changed.”

The water no longer reflected his face; instead, it showed the image of two children playing together.

He and Thor were playing together, and Sif went over to them. Her displeased expression showed that she wasn’t happy to see them together. She said something—probably some insult directed at Loki and Thor—but instead of siding with Sif, he stepped in front of her, ordering her to stop. He even threw her to the ground, and Sif was so stunned by that gesture that she quickly walked away. Thor returned to his brother, and from his lip-reading, Loki understood what he said: “Sif won’t tease you anymore, I assure you.”

The trickster stood frozen at the sight. Thor defending him from Sif was what he’d hoped for as a child, but it had never happened. Thor had changed a lot, and it certainly had to do with the variant’s attack.

“Ever since he nearly lost you, he’s become very protective of you. He keeps saying he’ll be here to protect you. You two are very close now.”

Loki let go of his hard expression. He was left breathless by those words because it was everything he had always wanted. His resolve crumbled, and he had to swallow several times to loosen the knot that had formed in his throat.

“Do you think it will change the course of events?”

Loki looked at her and understood why it had been necessary to intervene so drastically. Certainly, things would be different from now on. Without the envy and rivalry, Loki would never have become who he is now. He wouldn’t even have interfered with Thor’s coronation; there wouldn’t have been the invasion of Jotunheim. He would never have discovered his origins, and Odin wouldn’t have fallen into his slumber. If they had always remained so united, Loki wouldn’t have clashed with Thor, wouldn’t have fallen into Thanos’s hands, and wouldn’t have helped form the Avengers.

And without them, he wouldn’t have met Sylvie.

He clenched his fists and began to tremble. He couldn’t believe he was facing a choice again. Allowing his younger self to have a happier childhood was what he wanted, but how would things change? What would happen to him if he interfered with his past?

Frigga took his hand and made him look at her. “I’ll leave it up to you to decide; that’s only fair.”

Asgard, Timeline XXX, year unspecified.

Nothing remained of all the beauty Asgard once boasted. The gold and silver used in its architecture and furnishings had been taken away, plundered just as their ancestors had plundered other peoples in the time of Bor. The ceramics had been destroyed, the paintings torn, the statues defaced and mocked. This was the immense palace of Asgard, once a symbol of power and wealth throughout the Nine Realms, now a heap of rubble. The dark elves had taken care to erase every trace of Asgard’s ancient glory, even from the books. They burned the library, hoping thereby to erase the memory of the Aesir from history. Loki was unable to save any of the precious books that made up the majestic library, some of which he had personally recovered after a long and difficult search for that elusive tome, the only existing copy in the galaxy.

He walked among the ashes of that place that had always been a safe haven. Black dust still hung in the air, and the light filtering through the half-burnt curtains accentuated its presence. He picked up a small book from the floor that, for some strange reason, had survived the fire, and gently opened it, immediately recognizing his mother’s handwriting. She jotted down her impressions, her thoughts, her ideas in the margins of the page, and often, for Loki, it was more enjoyable to read those notes than the book itself. The habit of writing in the margins was one he had picked up as well, and it lasted as long as everything was going well. Until Thor came to him to talk about that damned war.

The echo of his footsteps reverberated through the palace’s icy corridors, and the doors to the throne room swung open with an ominous creak. The desolation that permeated the vast hall seemed to seep into Loki as well. He took his seat on Hliðskjálf like the king he was, even though he had no one left to rule over. He was alone.

He remained seated on the throne for a time he could not quantify, and it was only the presence of a woman, appearing in a green cloud, that roused him from his thoughts.

“My sweet sister. To what do I owe your presence?”

The woman revealed only half her face, as graceful and delicate as that of a young girl, while the other half was hidden by a black veil. She looked around for a moment before turning her attention to him.

“Once so magnificent, now just a pile of rubble.”

Loki’s expression grew serious. “What do you want?”

“To see if you’ve gotten what you’re looking for.”

Loki, from the height of his throne, remained staring at her. He knew she was just testing his patience. She knew him well enough to realize this wasn’t a mere courtesy call. Did she want something in return—perhaps the long-awaited payment?

“I need more time,” he said after a brief pause. “And more power.”

Hela’s expression didn’t change. “More power will drive you mad. Your obsession is wearing you down.” ”

He saw his brother’s face—tense, gaunt, thin. It was no longer the handsome face of the prince he once remembered. He was weary, weighed down by the burden of an unwanted crown that grew heavier with each passing day.

“If you’ve come all this way to lecture me, go back where you came from, sister,” he said contemptuously.

Hela removed the black veil and revealed the other half of his face, rotten and decaying.

“I just want to put an end to your suffering. Let me help you,” said the goddess softly, taking a few steps closer.

“Help me destroy my variant and take possession of his timeline. Help me get back what I’ve lost.”

Hela stood motionless. “Killing him won’t bring Sigyn back to life. Nor your children.”

Loki screamed in rage and pain at those words. He clasped his head in his hands in a gesture of despair. He had tried to delve into the dark arts, to discover if among the forbidden and dangerous spells there was anything that could bring his family back to life. But having found nothing, the only thing left for him was to turn to her, Hela, the Lady of the Dead.

He crossed the gates of Hel the following morning after yet another night filled with nightmares. Every night he dreamed of Sigyn’s happy face, smiling at him and embracing him, only to see her die in the most atrocious ways possible. He would wake up gasping for breath, with a paralyzing anguish and a pain in his chest that never seemed to give him any respite. Desperation led him to descend into Hel’s forbidden realm, and when his sister saw him, Loki swore he saw her eyes light up.

Hela walked toward him and placed her uninjured hand on his cheek.

“I see so much pain in your eyes, my dear brother. A pain that is consuming you to the very bone,” she said, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

Hela knew full well what had happened to him. Many Æsir had come to her in recent months, and she knew, from their accounts, what was happening on the surface.

When Loki spoke to her, Hela noticed his tense posture, his hands trembling slightly. He was shaken, tired, broken, and the Queen of Hel could only feel compassion. She had never seen him like this, not even when he swore to her that he would kill everyone who had called him a monster.

At one point, Hela shook her head and cut him off. “What you are asking defies every known law of physics. What is dead must remain so. No one has ever left the realm of Hel.”

Loki stiffened and looked his sister in the eyes. “Not even if I ask you?”

Hela sighed, and her expression softened. “You know of the deep affection that binds me to you, but what you ask is impossible. I am not permitted to let a single soul return to the world of the living, let alone four.” She rose from the throne made of bones, and her long, night-black gown trailed across the floor. The ravens began to fly around them and caw in an eerie manner.

Loki gave up, and Hela saw the despair in his eyes and couldn’t keep to herself what she had recently discovered. She couldn’t bear to see him reduced to this, and she revealed that, for the first time in the history of the world, the multiverse had opened. She could see timelines shifting, glowing, forming, and shattering. As a daughter of Odin, she had acquired the power of the Father of All to see other Realms and other realities.

At that revelation, Loki’s eyes lit up, and he asked if he could see them too. Reluctantly, Hela agreed and allowed him to look.

Loki watched intently as the timelines moved in a magnificent dance. Within each one was a version of himself. Some were adults, others children, and still others were women. Some were kings, others princes, and still others mere mercenaries. All of them, however, had one thing in common: loneliness. None of them could claim to be happy or to belong to anything. Their world was similar to his and yet also diametrically opposed. Loki realized with a lump in his throat that each of them, each of his variants, had lost everything. It didn’t matter whether they had acted for good or for evil; their reward would always be suffering and loneliness.

He gritted his teeth in bitterness. Was it possible that everything was limited to this?

Just as he was about to look away and leave, something caught his attention. He raised his eyes toward his variant who lived on… Midgard?

He approached cautiously to get a better look. She was living with a blonde woman he’d never seen before. They were laughing, joking. There were even other people—one with a graying mustache and the other with black hair, both strangers to him—holding glasses and seeming to enjoy themselves, perhaps celebrating some human custom. His variant had a displeased, annoyed expression, but he could see from his eyes that he wasn’t angry at all. In fact, he almost seemed happy. A black cat even climbed onto the sofa to perch on his version’s legs, seeking a cuddle (1).

Loki’s eyes widened at what he was seeing, wondering if it was all real. He ventured even further into the vision in search of more details. Hela tried to stop him from continuing his search, but he ignored her and pressed on. She wouldn’t stop him. Not now.

He retraced his history and discovered that he, too, had lost the woman he loved. Yet he had found another woman whom he had learned to love. He had lost her and found her again.

Loki froze. It was the only version of himself he had seen who had found what he had lost and was even able to live happily again. And with friends.

No Loki had ever had friends. No Loki had ever had a second chance.

Why did he, then?

A sudden rage welled up inside him. He realized he felt a deep envy for that version of himself who seemed to be getting what he wanted. His eyes gleamed, hungry and predatory, at the idea that had occurred to him.

Hela interrupted the vision and touched her brother’s arm.

“Loki…”

“Let me go to that timeline, sister. I know you can do it,” he pleaded, and she couldn’t bring herself to say no. She formed a sphere of green energy in her hands and used it to create a portal.

Her sister spoke, and this snapped Loki out of his reverie.

“I wasn’t listening. Please repeat that.”

Hela snorted. “You can’t keep jumping from one timeline to another in such a short time. It’s dangerous.”

“It’s none of your business what I do,” he said sharply, slumping back on the throne and looking at her with an air of condescension.

“I care about you.” Hela lowered her voice, and her eyes softened. She felt a genuine, sincere affection for Loki, something she had never felt for anyone before. Odin had turned her into a monster and cast her into the darkest realm among the Nine because she was unwanted. Everyone had always feared her, avoided her, and cursed her. Loki was the only one who didn’t look at her with horror or fear. Even Thor flinched when he saw the rotten part of her face, but Loki, on the other hand, remained indifferent. He spoke to her as if he saw nothing horrible or strange in her appearance, and when he called her sister, Hela felt her heart skip a beat. Loki soon realized the influence he had over her and used this to his advantage. Having the goddess of death among his allies was an unparalleled asset.

“Your place is here. This is your home, your Asgard.” ”

Loki pounded his fist on the armrest of the throne. “This pile of rubble is not my home!” he shouted. “How can you say such a thing to me?”

“There are still Æsir alive throughout the galaxy who survived the massacre. You are their king. They need your guidance.”

Loki laughed bitterly. “The remaining Æsir are fugitives living as exiles in other realms. They are the very ones who never wanted me as their king—why should I lead them now?”

“Then why are you sitting on Hliðskjálf if you do not wish to be king of the Æsir?”

Loki remained motionless. Once he had longed to be king, and now that he sat there, he rejected the role he was meant to have. He cared nothing for the surviving Æsir, nor for rebuilding the kingdom. It was all gone now, destroyed. What was the point of starting over?

The god of mischief paused for a long moment. His gaze dropped, and suddenly the weight of his imposed role bore down on him.

“I’ve buried them all,” he said in a hoarse voice, staring at an undefined spot on the ground. His lips curled into a bitter smile. “Thor, Sif, Heimdall, the Three Warriors. They’re all dead. I’m tired of burying people, Hela. I just want some peace.” He closed his eyes and sighed.

Hela approached the base of the grand staircase. “You can have the peace you seek, Loki. You can rebuild what you’ve lost together with me.”

Hela brought her hands together, and a blurry image of Sigyn and their children appeared between her fingers.

“Their memories are safe with me. They will live in peace from now on. It’s time to let them go.”

Loki looked at the image, and tears he’d held back for too long began to flow. He wanted to bring justice to those he’d loved. He wouldn’t let them go; they deserved vengeance.

A flutter of wings, and two black ravens flew through the broken window to perch beside Loki. Huginn and Muninn, Odin’s ravens who saw and reported everything to the king, had just returned from their patrol. Loki listened intently to what they had to say, and, as always, they did nothing but describe what the dark elves were doing. The Nine

Realms were collapsing, plundered and destroyed by a people indifferent to their suffering and cries for help.

He jumped to his feet, furious.

“Open the portal.”

Asgard, Timeline 616, A.D. 973

Loki watched the sun rise over Asgard for the last time.

After the variant’s attack, it took several days before Mobius and O.B. sent the new date to his tempad. When he saw the number on the display, he pressed his lips into a tight line and cursed his enemy in his mind. He knew exactly where to strike.

He descended the stone steps at the entrance to the royal court and adjusted the collar of his black leather jacket.

Now he was alone.

He hadn’t seen Sylvie since the previous morning, and knowing her, she had surely found some remote, unknown place to take refuge. Or perhaps she had returned to their home on Midgard, but he didn’t have the courage to go check. He didn’t even know exactly what to say to her, other than that he had been an idiot and that he wanted a second chance.

Yes, a second chance. How many chances had he had since he’d revealed his feelings to her at the citadel at the end of time? And how many times had he ruined everything because of his lies?

Sylvie was tired of his deceit, and he couldn’t blame her. He was convinced that with her, he would be a different person, uprooting and eliminating his chaotic and destructive nature once and for all. Instead, his lies and deceit remained an integral part of his being.

He had lost her because he hadn’t been able to improve.

You are destined to lose, Loki, so that others may become better versions of themselves.

Mobius’s words still echoed and burned in his head like a red-hot blade.

He would live with this predetermined fate forever; he was now certain of it.

He had to find the variant, eliminate it once and for all, and then he would find a place to stay.

If he could find one.

He quickened his pace and crossed the gardens to leave the royal court and everything associated with it behind—the lies, the grudges, and the pain.

The laughter of some children heading toward the training ground made him stop.

Sif and the three children who would later become the three warriors were surrounding a black-haired boy and laughing at him.

“You can’t come train with us, Ergi.” Sif shoved him, sending him tumbling to the ground.

“We don’t want you; you’re just in the way. Go do those seidr things with the girls, you stupid sissy.” Fandral laughed, and the others followed suit.

Thor told his friends to leave him be and go because they were late, and he ignored his brother, who was still on the ground, covered in dust.

Once they had walked away, Loki stood up and screamed in anger before wiping his tears with the palm of his hand.

The trickster stood watching him from a distance, his expression impassive, but inside he still felt the pain of those taunts.

The boy turned toward him and glared at him with hatred.

“Who are you? What are you looking at? Go away!” he shouted, then ran off.

Loki stood watching as he ran toward home and wondered if he had made the right choice.