Hadet
The end is coming.
Loki knows it the moment Kang crosses that once thought impenetrable line of defense Maximoff had set to trap him. He cuts through it like water, mocking smile growing as his forces breach the barrier and stride past earth mightiest heroes like scythes in a cornfield. Felling each combatant with single minded savagery.
There it is, that point of no return Loki always feared, now staring them right the face as that once pure meadow turns from vivid green to an ominous and cascading blood red.
They cannot hide anymore, cannot fight the rising tide of despair that pervades the once tranquil air of their sanctum.
Strange’s cloaking magic could only hide them so long, and now, it is their day of reckoning.
Sylvie knows it too, that fierce determined look she always wears fading to terror as the universe tears itself apart in front of them. They have survived so much to get to this point, righted some many wrongs along the path of resistance and saved so many innocent lives. Yet it makes no difference.
This conqueror will not stop.
Only the strong survive, and Kang, he has crushed all other variants in his path.
There is only Kang now.
Sylvie trembles violently as she reaches out to squeezes Loki’s hand, her jaw shaking as their gazes met and Loki is struck once again by the unfairness of it all. How it took the ending of the reality, for him to see how futile his anger has been.
His heart shatters at the thought that this will be their last memory together, that even as he smiles back at her with such affection it makes her flush and softly gasp, he knows he cannot keep her.
And there it is again, that pervading cruelty of his constantly lonely fate, that even when he tries to do what is right, he will never win.
Never complete his glorious purpose or find that final happiness she represents.
For they were never meant to be together, to see this out to the end.
They were never meant to have time.
It is only now, as the sky fills with monsters viler and more terrible than Alioth himself, that Loki truly regrets his stubbornness and his childish pride. All that wasted time. Every slight and every fight that lead them here, two ships sailing side by side, but never finding shore, it fades to insignificance as Sylvie stares back at him with that same warmth and longing he has felt since the moment they met.
And oh, how he now wishes he had kissed Sylvie the moment she’d come back to him all those days ago, her slim forming slipping through the orange glow of a timedoor and into the TVA with this look of abject sorrow. Her beautiful, soulful eyes begging him for that coveted forgiveness her treacherous tongue couldn’t form.
The words too heavy to endure.
Loki had been too mad then to reach out, too hurt to even look at her directly as she stepped cautiously toward him with her hands held firmly by her sides. Forcing herself not to touch him.
She knew better than to goad a wounded animal.
They stayed in stilted silence for a beat or two before Dr Strange had exited brusquely behind Sylvie and immediately demanded his help. The good doctor all but ordering Loki to follow them forthwith in that direct manner of his, stating plainly, if he wanted to save whatever good was left of their reality, there was not a single minute to waste.
How could Loki refuse?
Despite his anger, he would never allow Sylvie to shoulder this responsibility alone. After all the terrible things he had done in his life, the bedlam he had inflicted upon the World, to abandon Sylvie to that gnawing guilt would have been wrong on every level.
It was as much his duty as it was hers.
And so, he joined the good fight, following Dr. Strange to New York with little preamble and quickly finding his place amid the frenzy of anticipation the Sanctum Sanctorum had become.
Sylvie didn’t look for his touch or attention in those first few days on Midgard, though Loki saw how much she longed for it in those quiet moments her guard dropped and the weight of what she’d done pressed down upon her. Seeing now the true cost of that brutal chaos she had released upon them, most of all herself.
It was hard enough to swallow the guilt once word reached them of the devastation already wrought in Worlds not so different from their own. Remorse too weak a sentiment to fully encapsulate the self-hatred it drew from Sylvie.
But to suffer this self-reproach alone, devoid of Loki’s cheer and innate ability to say exactly what she needed to hear, it was torture.
Sylvie missed his kindness and wit.
She missed his smile.
Sylvie just missed, him.
Just as he missed her.
And as he, Strange, Maximoff and Sylvie formulated a tentative allyship in that peculiar house on Bleecker Street, the longing for reconciliation only grew. Sometimes Loki would catch her watching him. This look of regret and deep sorrow in her eyes when she thought he wasn’t aware.
But he saw it, he felt the misery in those eyes just as strongly as it were his own heart.
And it was hard, so very hard, to stay away from her, but utter betrayal was not an easy sin to forgive.
Even for him and his storied history.
Her Judas kiss and the absolute crushing of his tender heart too great slight to ignore.
Sylvie did not push for anything more than he was willing to give, uncharacteristically patient when it came to gaining his trust again. And it wasn’t as if Loki wholeheartedly ignored her, he was too much of a gentleman for such discourtesy. He spoke to her with a detached sort of politeness when it was needed, answering her questions and helping to strategize their strengths for the war that was coming.
And Sylvie accepted this distance from him while he healed, quietly grateful for his tact and grace. For there were signs of thaw every day, his once frigid manner around her softening each time they spoke, however brief these perfunctory interactions appeared to be.
His eyes warmed and gaze became direct as he looked at her as she spoke, the beginnings of that enigmatic smirk quirking at the edge of his mouth when she smiled at him unexpectedly one day. It made Sylvie hopeful there could be something there again.
But before this long overdue reunion could be realized in full, the chaos of an infinitesimal multiverse finally reached them.
Their time already up.
And then they fought side by side as they always have, trusting each other emphatically to face the battles together, trusting each other unquestionably with their lives.
To be that steady presence at their back and to be the one to watch over them when they rest.
They trust each other with their survival of this mess.
But not their hearts, not their love. That remains a bridge too great to cross.
Yet as Kang marches forward now, throwing off every obstacle they put it his way, it all seems so stupid. What use were any of those walls when all it brought was pain?
Because Loki knows, with every fiber of his flawed and twisted being, he loves Sylvie Laufeydottir more than he can ever quantify. He would defy the very stars and heaven to save her.
Just as he had always planned.
Loki sighs heavily with regret before he squeezes her hand back tightly, pulling Sylvie forward and drawing her into his chest as the ground below them starts to violently tremble. He can feel the atoms around them start to rapidly vibrate as Kang begins tears apart the very matter of existence.
Piece by piece until all that remains is nothingness.
It won’t be long now.
Sylvie shakes as she buries her face into his welcoming chest, shuddering with relief as his arms wrap around her shoulders and hold her tightly against him. Her arms wind their way around his torso as her head rests against his breast, finding solace in the steady beat of his heart as he holds with all the yearning he has held back since the moment she walked back into his life. She cannot help but smile and look up at him with glassy, bittersweet eyes as he tenderly kisses her forehead, a lone tear rolling down his cheek.
She reaches for his jaw, her thumb stroking his bloodied, bruised skin before angling his face down toward hers.
Their foreheads press together, eyes closing as they the savor these last moments of shared oxygen.
“I think it’s time my friend” Dr Strange says behind them, his voice grave and low as he drifts closer.
“Now or never.”
Loki raises his head from Sylvie as he gives the Sorcerer Supreme a look of total acceptance, his head nodding slowly before turning back to Sylvie’s bewildered face. Her eyes widen as she watches the good doctor slowly spin a golden thread through the hot and hazy air, the circular pattern becoming more pronounced as the spin grows faster and faster. It becomes a ring of splendorous fire, pulling a surge of potent energy from somewhere sacred and unknown. Spinning on and on until it reveals the wonderous sight of Asgard deep within itself.
Sylvie gasps and her eyes snap back to Loki as the realisation hits her.
It is her Asgard, not his.
She know it the moment the dark face of her mother fills her eyes as the image within the portal shifts and waver.
It is her home, the same once she had lost as a child to the TVA’s nefarious machinations.
Home.
“Loki......what is this?” she chokes, her gaze growing suspicious and desperate as she watches Loki’s expression soften and break.
“My exit strategy” he answers quietly, his hand settling on her cheek as he holds her face with such affection, Sylvie knows he’s saying goodbye.
“You’re going home”.
“But you’re not coming” she whimpers, a new apprehension filling her as the thought of leaving him shatters her heart.
“I can’t” Loki replies with a wry smile to mask the pain as he shakes his head “Someone’s got to stay behind and save the day.”
“Now’s not the time to grow a conscious Loki” she spits back with little venom, her tears already welling in her eyes “You don’t have to play the noble hero”.
“Don’t I....maybe I’ve grown” he answers with a maudlin smile, his thumb tracing the edge of her cheekbone.
“Loki please, I don’t.....” Sylvie begins, words failing her before Loki interjects again.
“You deserve your life back....all of it.....and that means I can’t be there to mess things up for you anymore. You’ll be safe Sylvie, your family too. Strange made it so the TVA will never darken your door ever again. You will be free.”
He swallows deeply, emotion catching in his throat as he catalogues every inch of her face. Knowing this will be the last time he will ever see her.
“I promise.”
“I won’t leave you again” Sylvie growls back, grasping the lapels of his jacket with an iron grip.
“I won’t....you can't make me”
“You have to” he replies with a sad smile, his second hand coming to rest on the other side of her face as he cradles her cheeks.
“I need to know you’re safe.”
“I won’t leave you” Sylvie repeats fiercely, her tears falling fast and heavy as the air begins to roar and whip around them like flaying knives. Kang’s malevolent influence getting closer now.
“Then we’re in a bit of a pickle.” Loki mutters back quietly, staring down at her with sad, dejected blue eyes.
“I can’t hold it much longer Odinson” Dr Strange shouts to their right with growing unease “.....so if you’re going, go now.”
“Loki....” Sylvie begins, her voice failing her as she sees in his gaze, he will not be swayed.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because......” Loki murmurs shakily, stepping in closer as he turns her face up to meet his earnest gaze.
“I love you, Sylvie Laufeydottir......and you deserve more than this broken world”
Sylvie doesn’t even have a chance to respond or even process this confession, before Loki is kissing her so ardently, she forgets to breathe for a moment. His lips are soft and insistent against hers as he draws her in and pours every unsaid thing between them into that kiss.
Sylvie cannot help but get caught up in the beauty of it, to bask in the heady joy that spreads through her body as she responds in kind. Pressing up into him with that same passion and want as her hands drag him closer.
It lets her forget, just for a moment, the pain that will inevitably follow.
It lets her be perfect, and loved, and happy, just for an instant.
For as long as his mouth caresses hers, there is only she and him.
But all good things must inevitably end.
Sylvie cannot help but pant audibly when they part, her senses overwhelmed by the intensity of it all as Loki’s grip slips to her shoulders and pries her hands gently from his jacket. His eyes are full of affection as he holds her hands tightly in his, a surety in his posture that tells her he means every word.
“I love you...that’s why...... ” Loki whispers as he presses a final kiss to her brow.
“Det er på tide å dra hjem min kjærlighet”
Sylvie’s expression furrows in confusion for a moment at this parting phrase before she is being thrown backwards, a green light bursting from Loki’s fingers as he sends her barreling through the rapidly shrinking portal.
“I’m sorry” Loki adds with a dry sob as the portal snaps shut and he loses sight of her in an instant.
Dr. Stephen Strange collapses to the ground beside him as the effort it has taken to hold the portal open winds him for a second or two. His momentary exhaustion is quickly pushed aside as the roar of Kang draws his attention back to reality, for there is no time for self-pity or idleness. However, Strange’s face twists uncomfortably as looks up at Loki with the deepest sympathy, all too aware of what he’s just done.
Knowing unequivocally what Loki has sacrificed all in the name of love.
“Are you okay?” he asks as he rises to his feet and faces the oncoming maelstrom of Kang’s forces as they gather by the foot of the hill. Wanda Maximoff comes to stand just to his left as she gives him a terse nod, the worry she feels written all over her face.
“Oh just dandy.....” Loki sighs sourly as he draws out his short sword from its holster, Lævateinn feeling oddly heavy in his hand as he stares at the etched blade.
“Truly...never better”.
Strange sighs too but says nothing further as he prepares his spells and mind for what is about to begin. Loki’s expression is dark and forlorn as he shifts into a defensive stance, the torment of has been done breaking his heart more and more with every second.
Because Gods does he love her.
If only they had had more time.
“She’ll be okay Loki.....” Wanda offers with a kind smile, laying her hand on his shoulder for a beat as she rises into the sky. Her crimson cape billowing behind her as the howling wind picks up speed.
“We made it just as you asked......it’ll be as if she never left.”
“So... she won’t remember the TVA or being on the run? She won’t remember the loss of her family, the loneliness and the pain...any of it?”
“No....” Dr Strange answers quietly, his eyes trained on his first opponent.
“It’s a complete Tabula Rasa”
Loki crouches low, numbly bracing himself for the approaching hoard as his soul shatters just a little more. She won’t remember him.
She won’t remember Lamentis, or the Void, or that gentle afternoon they huddled close together under that ridiculous blanket and dreamed of a future.
A future they could tentatively hope to see, together.
Sylvie would not remember him, but she would remain the dagger that pierced his heart, the dagger that made him know the pain and power of love. And these memories, of a life almost lived, this would be the burden he would carry alone for the rest of his days.
“Good.......it’s for the best” Loki mumbles back as his grips shifts on his sword, chest aching as he faces what is certain to be his death.
But at least she will be safe.
Sylvie will know love again.
She will be free.
“Farvel kjære.”
“Loki”.
The room spins uncomfortably as Sylvie jolts upward in her feathered bed, a new and searing pain forming by her temples as the numbness of sleep falls away from her mind. It erupts like a storm, this terrible pounding in her head as pain burns like a fire through her neurons. Her stomach lurches with the intensity of it, while her ears ring as though the very world around her is roaring to a new and unknown frequency.
“Your royal highness, are you quite well? Do I need to call the healer?” a young woman calls suddenly, a kind and concerned hand placed on her shoulder as the unknown woman crouches by her bedside. Her movement startles Sylvie, her eyes snapping open on instinct as she meets her companion’s soft brown eyes.
The pain vanishes as quickly as it arrives, her senses clearing as a new sharpness focuses her awareness.
She is disoriented for a moment as her eyes search the room around her with loud and rapid breath, the glorious Asgardian dawn throwing her off balance for a moment as its gentle flaxen light fills the richness of her royal chamber. The fine furnishings burnished in golds and crimson as the sun rises in the East.
Sylvie cannot help but gasp again in surprise, as long forgotten memories of home fill her mind. These echoes of a life once lived grow as her mind’s eye sees past that once finite line of childhood, remembrances flooding through that had never been her own before.
It rages on until, Sylvie can no longer tell what is real and what is imagined.
Synapses quickly rewriting themselves to a new reality before she can even stop to question them.
There is a final burst of pain, white hot and sudden as it knocks her back against the headboard.
But then, all that remains is a sense of peace and lifetime of love to balm her confused soul.
“Sylvie? Are you okay?” the young woman beside her whispers hesitantly, trying to catch her bewildered attention as it drifts again to the beautiful dawn outside her window. Sylvie’s wide and unsettled gaze whips back to her handmaiden, blinking rapidly at her for a moment before her features are schooled into a more neutral expression.
“Yes …..I’m fine Fulla, it was just a bad dream” she murmurs back softly, her brow furrowing as tries to catch traces of its filmy shape in her mind, the memory of his face fading more and more as the veil of sleeps lifts and wakefulness erases what little remains.
Fulla nods tersely in reply, her worried face telling Sylvie quite empathetically, the sweet, loyal handmaiden does not quite believe her. She rises again to stand, leaving Sylvie’s bedside for a moment to retrieve her morning cup of herbal tea.
Sylvie takes the tea quite willingly, savoring the slightly sweet tang of the mint as it settles the lingering roil of her stomach.
Behind Fulla, the heavy double doors of the chamber slowly crack open to reveal the graceful form of the Queen as she smiles amiably at her daughter.
“God morgen, min lille......how did you sleep?” she asks softly as she glides effortlessly across the smooth stone floor. Sylvie smiles gently back at Frigga as she sits at the edge of her bed, her dark brown skin luminous against the stark white of Sylvie’s silken bed sheets.
“Quite well thank you”.
“Lies” Fulla scoffs loudly, her face flushing with embarrassment when she realizes she has uttered the contradiction aloud.
“Forgive me, your majesties......” she stutters awkwardly, her eyes wide and contrite as her gaze falls on Sylvie’s scowling face.
“I misspoke”.
Frigga lets out a bemused chuckle, sending Sylvie a pointed look as her jet-black eyebrow rises in challenge.
“No apology is necessary; my daughter is always less than forthcoming with the truth.”
Sylvie shifts under her gaze as she bites her lips self-consciously.
“It was only a silly dream....” she admits cautiously with a shrug.
“Nothing to be concerned about.”
Frigga hums thoughtfully in reply as she studies Sylvie’s guarded expression, seeing something wistful and lost behind the iron of her blue eyes.
“Did you dream of the dark-haired stranger again?” she asks after a beat as she tucks an errant blonde curl behind Sylvie’s ear, unable to ignore the slight hitch in her daughter's careful breathes as her questions hits its mark.
“Yes, I did” Sylvie grinds back unhappily, not having the capacity to weave another façade at this early hour. Frigga says nothing in reply, perhaps cognizant of such matters are not best dealt with a day of such import.
There would be plenty of time to discuss this recurrent omen after the coronation that afternoon. For now, Sylvie’s attention is needed elsewhere.
“Well.....I’m sure it is just a portent of good fortune for your reign.....” Frigga begins mildly, gently pinching Sylvie’s cheek with a smile before continuing “.... and perhaps there is still time to catch up on some rest before Freya insists on whipping you into shape.”
“Oh goody” Sylvie replies mordantly as her eyes roll at her mother “I can’t wait.”
Frigga chuckles before pressing a kiss to her forehead, her long, thin braids brushing against Sylvie’s cheek in that same comforting way they had since she was a little girl.
“Sleep my darling, it’s going to be a long day ahead.”
Sylvie does as she is told, giving her mother an affectionate smile as she lays back into her thick, welcoming pillows and sighing in contentment.
Frigga ushers Fulla out with her before blowing Sylvie a final kiss in goodbye.
Sylvie’s eyes close slowly, sleep finding her easier than she anticipated as she immediately starts to drift.
She dreams of fireworks, of strange and wonderful sights as Asgard glows in vibrant green. She dreams of a hillside, and feels the weight of a thin, emerald blanket as it wraps gently around her shoulders as a tall, soft body warms against her own.
Sylvie dreams of an impish smile and two turquoise eyes that stutter her heart as they stare at her with such reverence and understanding.
She dreams of home.
Loki.