She's blonde.
That is the first thought that enters into his mind as Loki accepts his newborn daughter from Sylvie and Bea. His child, his first child, and she is born blonde. Then she opens her eyes, her sweet sky blue eyes, and Loki's world begins to spin a bit faster.
Needless to say, the God of mischief was more than surprised. When he had first learned of his pregnancy, when he had dared to imagine what they may look like in his mind, he pictured dark hair and robes, eyes greener than emeralds, and his signature smirk. Not this. He could never have been prepared for this. Which, he feels, is saying something because, throughout the last nine months, he has been the most relaxed and prepared out of anyone.
With the TVA in tatters and the fate of reality in the hands of a more qualified individual (though Loki would rather die than admit it to that charlatan's face), those who had been able to see through the smoke and mirrors presented by He Who Remains had taken the writing on the wall as a warning and got out together, settling in California in a random year, where they could live a peaceful existence without risking a run-in with any fragments of themselves. While Loki did not know the exact year, as it mattered very little to him, he suspected that they had landed somewhere in the 1990s or perhaps even the early 200s. Mobius wanted a jet ski and no one in their little motley crew had the nerve to deny him that. So, one jet ski, a house on the beach, and a whole mess of shenanigans later, they had created a new home. That had been a little over a year ago. In fact, there was a suspicious correlation between the procurement of said jet ski and the possible conception dates for this child, though if anyone else was aware of this fact, they did not acknowledge it.
He was grateful for Sylvie and for Bea (She, Casey, and Mobius had all searched to locate themselves in the timeline, to gain some idea of where they had all come from, but for all of their meticulous record-keeping, the TVA had known how to cover their tracks and cover them well. Robbed of her identity, the once proud hunter had decided to create one for herself) who had taken it upon themselves to research pregnancy and childbirth to better care for the upcoming addition to their mismatched little family. Casey had tried too, always eager to help, but his stomach couldn't handle it. Only one minute into a video Sylvie had managed to locate in the course of their education and he had gone completely pale and thrown up. An executive decision had been made that, when the time came, for Mobius to keep their young friend occupied in another room to avoid creating any unnecessary messes.
Which led to them now; Loki warm in his bed, holding his newborn, doing mental gymnastics as he tried to piece together how this little creature had come from him, Sylvie and Bea still hovering close by, while Casey and Mobius waited in the living room for permission to enter. Bea would go get them soon but first she wanted a look at the child that she had just played a part in bringing into this world. She peaked over Loki's shoulder at the baby who stared back at her, observing the strange scene around her in silence, and Bea smiled, "She is beautiful." Beautiful but undeniably going to grow into a major pain in the ass. She could see the gears turning in the child's head, just as she could see them whenever her mother had an idea, and that spelled nothing but trouble for them all. But they would worry about that when the baby learned to speak. Right now, Bea was quite content cooing over how cute she was.
"Yes, she is." Sylvie agreed and leaned in to gently swirl a loose strand of golden hair around her finger. The baby giggled. "Where did this come from though?"
Every single variant of the God of Mischief that they had come across in their travels had naturally dark hair. They would dye it, enchant it to take a different color, but every single one of them had been born with the blackest hair imaginable. It didn't make sense for the child to have been any different. Certainly, she could not have inherited it from her father. Mobius didn't have blond hair either. "I genuinely have no idea." Loki mused himself. How strange...
The door to the room swung open and Mobius entered. After waiting so long for an update without any inclination of what was going on, he just couldn't take it anymore. Casey was zero help; puttering around the kitchen and focusing on fixing together something to eat, all the while drowning out the screams from the other room by blasting the radio at full volume. Now, Mobius was not about to talk down to a man who had the good sense to try and construct a meal for a group of people who were bound to be starving by the time they were finished, but he couldn't find comfort in finger sandwiches or hear encouraging words from a pitcher of freshly squeezed lemonade. So when the screaming stopped, the former agent took that as his cue to make a dramatic entrance his paramour would be envious of. "Next time, I'm not waiting outside." That was assuming that Loki even let him back in their bed anytime soon. The God's need to be held, to cuddle, would be coming into direct conflict with his sensitivity to pain.
His attention shifted focus when the small bundle that Loki was holding started to whine and squirm. There was a joke to be made, about her inheriting her mother's need for constant attention, but Mobius sure as Hell was not going to be the one to make it. Even if he was sure that making said joke wouldn't get him banished to the couch for the remainder of his life, the punchline was gone the second Mobius realized what was making the noise. "That's..?" He said softly, quickly closing the distance between himself and his family. Loki confirmed with a nod. "Can I..?" Mobius asked and, with one quick parting kiss to the child's forehead, Loki handed her over to her father. The sudden shift did not go unnoticed by the baby who had stopped whining and was now looking up into the face of this stranger curiously. He seemed familiar to her, though from where she was still trying to decipher as Mobius tried not to gush over how she, at only minutes old, already had the same look when trying to concentrate as her mother. "Hey there, Little Lady." He cooed, earning himself the tiniest but most precious little smile he'd ever seen. "You look like me!"
"No offense," Sylvie stated and both Mobius & Bea knew they were in for something good. Even the baby seemed skeptical. "But how?"
"Well, she has your eyes." The eyes that were shared across almost every Loki variant that they had ever come into contact with. Sylvie appeared satisfied with this and leaned over Mobius' shoulder to go back to playing with her baby niece's hair. The baby in question giggled and tried to grab hold of her fingers as Mobius continued. "But the blonde hair, the nose, that's all me."
"You're not blond."
"Did you think I was born with grey hair? That is the result of an absurd and insurmountable amount of time working for the TVA. I was blond when I first showed up." Blond and young but Mobius didn't like to think about that part of his life. Years, centuries, it was hard to tell exactly how much time He Who Remains had stolen from him but they had all individually come to the realization that they couldn't allow themselves to get lost in those details. They needed to use the rest of their lives for themselves, not dwelling on the wrongs committed against them in their past. But there was something wrong with this picture; something that didn't take long for Mobius to figure out. He looked over at his lover, still curled up in bed, looking utterly exhausted but yet beautiful, powerful, radiant as a god only could be, but silent. There was something very wrong there. "Loki?" He asked gently. "You have been awful quiet. Are you alright?"
"Tora," Loki replied, looking at Mobius as if he had just uncovered the secret to life itself. He looked both devastated and relieved, his emotions swirling together in this unstable hurricane within those beautiful blue eyes that Mobius had just been praising. "Tora."
"Tora?" Mobius repeated, swirling the name around in his mouth. It was short, sweet, but undeniably beautiful. He smiled down at the infant in his arms who was staring up at him quietly. It suited her, sliding into place like a missing puzzle piece. Tora Lokisdóttir. Tora Mobiusdóttir? Whichever Loki preferred, Mobius was just happy to have this little miracle and her mother in his life. "That's pretty. That's what you want to call her?"
"Tora." Loki mimicked and held his arms out to take the baby again. Mobius surrendered her over to her mother without question and Loki cradled his baby girl close, all the while cooing, "My Tora."
Mobius could have lived in that moment, could have drank in the sight of his lover, the most spectacular being to ever grace the plains of existence, cuddling and cradling their child, for all of eternity but moments like this were fleeting. He had to accept that given how long he had spent patrolling them. So when he felt a sharp tug on his arm, guiding him away from his family and back out into the hall, his surprise was only moderate. Still, he had to ask his assailant just what was she doing? "Sylvie?"
Sylvie made no attempt to offer him an explanation, offering one to Loki and Bea instead. "We'll be right back. We're just going to check on Casey."
"Casey can handle himself I want to spend time with my family-" Mobius attempted to protest but this time Sylvie slapped her hand over his mouth to silence him and all but shoved him out of the room. Her taking the time to gently close the door behind them to avoid upsetting the baby with any loud slams did not go unnoticed by Mobius though he was not in any position to be thanking her for her consideration when she was the one ripping him away from them. "What's going on?" He demanded. Something with Loki. It had to be something with Loki. Something had happened during the delivery and he was hurt or something! "Sylvie please tell me."
"Do you know what Tora means?" Sylvie asked.
"No. I don't. It's a nice name though. It's cute, I like it, Loki likes it-"
"It has several meanings on Asgard," Sylvie continued. "Goddess. Victor. Thunder." Each more than enough reason to justify bestowing the name upon any baby girl. But they were not the reason Loki had felt an immediate attachment towards the name and Sylvie knew that Mobius deserved to know just what his partner was naming their firstborn child for. Maybe then they'd be able to help him better. "But it is most well known for being a feminine version of Thor."
"Thor." And just like that, Mobius' heart was in the pit of his stomach. "Oh my God..."
Someone was missing from their perfect little family portrait; someone who Loki would have wanted in the room with him, to hold his hand, to encourage him forward. Someone who would have been bouncing on the spot, waiting for the chance to hold his niece. Someone whose absence was sorely missed, and who would be missed, in the years to come.
Someone who Loki thought the world of.
And he saw that world being reflected to him back in the form of his newborn daughter.
Loki silently vowed as he laid there holding her, placing soft kisses along her head, to show her that world.
"He would have adored you." More precious to him than any throne, any weapon, any infinity stone. In another reality (though Loki did not want to think about the numbers, about how lucky he was that reality lined up this way to give him this child in the first place), Tora and Thor would have been an unstoppable partnership that, undoubtedly, would have driven the god of mischief completely insane. "I'll show you him, sometime," Loki promised his daughter in between kisses. He would ensure that Tora, that anyone else who came along after her, knew what the rest of their family looked like. She would know her grandmother, know the spark of mischief in her otherwise gentle eyes, and she would know of Odin, though the love he would have carried for his first grandchild would not be as hidden to her as the love he had carried for his son. Tora would not know the rejection, the fear, the longing that Loki had known. Tora would feel the love that her family had for her. Most importantly though, Tora would know her namesake. She would see the giant of a man, the warrior, the hero, and she would see how his enormous heart would have melted for her if only they had the chance to meet. Even if she had not be named for him, Thor would have jumped through hurdles and crossed the volcanic plains of Hell for her.
Something deep within his gut warned Loki that Tora's resemblance to her uncle would not end in appearance. As she would grow, she would become bold and proud, and yet kind and brave. She would start off running headfirst into fights before learning that protecting others, her loved ones, was more important than looking powerful. Perhaps, just perhaps, she would even find her place in a group of mismatched adventurers, fighting for truth, honor, maybe even patriotism. Yes, he thinks as he gently tucks some wayward strands of gold behind her ear, in her own time, Tora would become a protector just as her uncle and not a little mimic, a raven-haired spirit of chaos, as her mother had been what seemed like eons ago now.
His firstborn child had entered this world making a fool out of someone. While Loki would have appreciated it being Mobius or Casey instead of himself, the pride that he felt for her was unmistakable.
She may have been named for his brother, may have even been confused for his in another life, but Tora was, at heart, undeniably her mother's daughter.