...
A truly Glorious Purpose
...
Summary: Loki was always a little bit of a slut for attention... but he really just wanted people to know how amazing he was. Not for the crackophobic, Seriously. Cameo appearance by Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. OR, The AU where Loki falls to Midgard, surprisingly likes it, and becomes a down-to-earth good guy in the rehabilitation process.
Disclaimer: I don't own Loki or the Avengers – neither the movies nor the comics. I claim no ownership of the quotes used in this fic (from the movies and the fan-made 'You just got Loki'd'), nor do I have any claim on the amazing video on youtube of Tom Hiddleston's full appearance in Comic-Con-2013.
Rated T for swearing, drinking and suggestive words. Come on, it's Tony Stark (though Loki's no saint either).
...
It started, innocently enough, with a diary.
Reflecting on his unique set of circumstances, Loki, former prince of Asgard and now fugitive in Midgard, leafed absentmindedly through a massive leather bound book, his diary since his fall from the Bifrost.
Strictly speaking, his entries began from his landing in Midgard - floating in nonethingness manifested as a seamless endless night, punctuated only by bursts of intense pain. Landing on earth and slipping among the blessed multitude brought about a veritable flood of new (and often baffling) experiences, but it was infinitely better than his literal existential crisis in the Void.
The Diary was an outlet for his not inconsiderable negative emotions, starting from his childhood in Asgard (a lie, all of it), his dreams, his ambitions (no longer matter), his descent into darkness –a monster that parents tell their children about at night, jὂtun runt, monster, incapable of sincerity–
Loki shut the book with a snap, memories flowing too fast and overtaking the words. Gradually, he calmed, and resumed reading.
At first, the diary was only a jumble of hateful emotions, ink flowing in tandem with the poison in his heart, finally expressing all those things which Odin had never bothered to ask, to hear, to find out what drove his actions (desperation for acknowledgement, his inferiority to the golden prince regularly thrown in his face, the blasted coronation-).
But his characteristic meticulousness had taken over, and it formed into a neat, coherent rendition of The Life of the Unfavoured Second Prince of Asgard (that person no longer exists, not when his so-called father rejected him so completely-). The small one-page-for-every-day booklet morphed and expanded into multiple volumes, a saga of Mischief and Lies.
A sorry tale, even as Loki read it to himself.
Growing up with a desperate need for affection, skulking in the shadows waiting for his time to come... it's no wonder Loki grabbed the opportunity to prove himself by taking the throne.
And then they had thrown his heritage in his (blue, marked, ridged, twisted) face.
(He always thought that others' dislike for him arose from his mischief, his tricks, his magic... but no, he was unloved from the day he born; let to die and taken as a political tool.
Perhaps it was only natural. Who could love a monster?)
Loki shook his head. Get a grip, he told himself. Channel your inner snark. You never let tragedies bog you down. (There was only so much sadness one could take. And he no longer had the desire to mock or belittle pitiful martyrs, when all it took was a single No to make him give up on living.)
But he had tried so, so hard. He destroyed his birth realm of Jὂtunheim as proof of his loyalty to his adopted family, and to showcase his might and planning skills, that he may be worthy of being king; despite being the second, the unpopular prince. And if Thor got killed learnt responsibility and humility from his near death experience in the process, that only made it so much better.
(Loki wasn't trying to kill Thor, oh no. The Destroyer was hardly a tool for subtle assassination. But naturally Thor was too dumb to see that, his misunderstanding encouraged by the Lady Sif and Idiots three. Thor was convinced that Loki tried to kill him, and was doggedly determined to return the perceived favour.)
But that plan was a failure (seriously, did Asgardians have no appreciation for psychotic villainy? Only scorn for Loki, his mind whispered, and he quelled it viciously); and Loki fell from the Bifrost.
The erstwhile God of Mischief spent a good deal of time fuming about it. After all, he had orchestrated the elimination of an entire hostile race without loss of a single Aesir life; and he had been rewarded with a plummet to death.
Asgard should really look into its public service remuneration policy.
(The snark is working, he thought cheerfully. At least his self-hatred helped make light of his mess.)
He had the good or bad fortune to land up on Midgard. Good, because he could slip into the human multitude with little difficulty, without being recognized for who he was (or wasn't. Really, who was he anymore?)
Bad, well... he had no idea what to do anymore. And boredom was an active mind's greatest enemy.
...
Loki pottered about, and he found his calling quite unexpectedly.
It turned out that Midgardians were staunch proponents of fiction (Asgard's libraries were restricted to wisdom and lore and other boring documentations of warfare) and encouraged works in varied 'genres' for all ages of general public. Humans even had an amazing invention called the internet, which enabled online books to be read from any part of the puny planet.
And Earth was supposed to be a backward realm? Showed how much the All-father didn't know.
Storytelling had always been a special skill of Loki's (also unappreciated, of course). He decided to put it to good use.
And so Loki chronicled the saga of his exploits, rich with humour and flair, and of course, psychotic villainy – the tale of a master magician who forged his own life despite the constraints of his family and antagonism of his peers. A brave tale, or so it read, though Loki could not completely keep his jaded outlook from leaking into his work. After numerous edits, revisions and strewn papers, he decided not to fake too much of his account. So what if the questionable protagonist is desperate with nothing to lose, so long as he finally tricks everyone and has the last laugh?
(Happy ending, always a happy ending... for why should dreams be dreary, when life already is?)
He started out without much expectation. After all, no one ever listened to his silver-tongue (how ironic).
That's why the email from Amazon took him so long to absorb.
5,000 copies sold already? Loki knew that Midgard's population was much greater than that of Asgard, but still... wasn't his book doing quite well?
Clearly it was, if the offer to publish 25,000 more copies was any indication.
Loki smiled, and typed his acceptance. It turned out to be the first email of many.
Scarcely a year ago, it seemed inconceivable to the refugee God that even a hundred people would want to read his griping about unfairness and dashed hopes and progressive psychosis. Now, as his book settled into its third week atop the New York Times® Bestsellers List, he finally realised that, for once, he had actually become, as the mortals would say, a 'hit'.
It was a decent earning, and one with no malice or disdain attached.
Loki thought he was quite lucky.
(Thor, poorly-read, brutish Thor would not have been able to achieve this, Loki thought; and soured immediately when he thought of a thousand other ways in which Thor, charming, popular Thor, could have managed to make things work.)
Aside from momentary lapses (like just now), Loki's success had quite a positive impact on his outlook. Happiness is healthy, or so his therapist said. Loki quite liked her, and her pleasant attitude seemed to rub off on him a little. His neighbours were friendly enough that the solitude inclined prince- no, author; he was an author now- might even consider them as friends.
Overall, he was quite enamoured of Midgard, and had even taken to calling it Earth, as per the mortals' kennings.
Banks, what a fascinating concept. Put money into an account, and the amount grows at a steady rate without any intervention, physical or magical. The mortals even had tiny cards which could be fit into special 'ATM machines' to withdraw money at any time.
And democracy, where everyone had a vote. (Where Loki could voice his opinion if he felt that Thor wasn't ready. Where a king was chosen by the people, where one did not become king simply because he was the eldest son- only. Only son. Loki was no son of Odin.)
But real estate, to Loki, was the real deal-breaker. A sound investment, especially the insurance when Midgard's so-called Mightiest Heroes went on one of their 'butt-kicking sprees'.
Loki shuddered inwardly. Midgardian slang had such a terrible influence on his grandiose eloquence. No matter, his novellas were teaching the puny race the subtle art of conversation (and deception, and psychotic villianry… goodness, he had so much more to write, so much illumination to provide, so many more sagas to chronicle).
Loki had always been the flamboyant type. It was the curse of all those born with style and class, and Loki had more 'pompadour' (fascinating word) than the whole of Asgard put together (excluding him of course, but then again, he wasn't one of them). And if he chose to exercise his talents in order to gently usher a weaker race into an era of enlightenment… well, the old Midgardians could hardly be blamed for calling him a god.
...
Tony was absolutely livid.
Unfreezing stars and spangles was one of the most painful ordeals he had ever gone through, and that is saying something for a man with an arc reactor instead of a heart.
Getting the good captain out of the ice was the eariest part. The challenges came in putting up with good ol' fashioned cap'n America's good ol' fashioned righteous, patriotic bull. The model hero (weren't heroes supposed to be models anyway) seemed determined to rub his moral high-horse into Tony's capitalistic face.
Outrageous. Tony was showing the world how to be smart, intelligent, savvy and modern – how could old fashioned ideals of honour and patriotism ever hope to compete?
The whole 'Avengers Initiative' was completely unhinged, if you asked him. (That's why no one asked, but he gave his insightful input anyway.) Tony snorted. Who wanted to be an 'Avenger' anyway? The name was lame, and look, that rhymed!
To cut a long story short, Mr. Stark was tired, hungry and pissed off, and in desperate need of a pep-up. The first and second were addressed by a generous measure of fine old scotch (the only time of good ol' Tony could stomach). The pep-up came in the form of a beautiful girlfriend aptly named Pepper.
The only thing Tony needed now was a bit of ego-stroking.
Fortunately, the pep-up by name of Pepper had been thoughtful enough to leave him a present that would hit the perfect spot.
"Pepper, you're wonderful, you truly are. You recorded this 'World's Favourite Superhero' newscast just for me? I'm touched. You seem to know my needs better than even JARVIS. Ha, wait till I show this to Capsicle back at SHIELD, I mean who does he think he is, trying to compare me to my shitty dad? I'm Tony Stark, and I'm in a league of my own. Isn't that right, sweetheart?"
The angelic girlfriend shuffled awkwardly, trying to redirect Tony while surreptitiously stealing the remote from him. "No well, actually, I um... recorded it for myself, to um.. watch later... it's nothing really, I don't think you wouldn't enjoy it." Rambling now, "I'm sure, ...in fact, I'm more than positive you wouldn't." She made hopeful puppy eyes at Tony, "So why don't we watch something else?"
"Aw, Peps~ don't be shy. There's nothing wrong in cheering for an amazingly hot, charming, rich genius – especially when the genius is also your boyfriend. I'm flattered, actually, that you would record all my press coverage. I thought you didn't like that stuff."
"I don't." A beat, then, "The program isn't about you... it's just, well..."
But Toyn had stopped listening a while back. "JARVIS, play it. Oh, and don't forget to put it on full volume."
A bubbly blonde woman appeared on screen, gushing excitedly, "That's right folks, this year's 'Favourite Superhero' has been officially announced! In humble gratitude for his landslide victory, this wonderful and deserving and amazing person has consented to rock the stage at the San Diego Comic Con-"
Tony stopped smirking. "I don't recall consenting to anything like that. Not that I wouldn't rock-"
"Hush Tony", Pepper shushed him, leaning towards the scene in anticipation.
The blonde commentator seemed unable to keep a lid on her cheer. "Without further ado, let's go over to the live show, where this person, unheard of even a year ago, who suddenly captured the hearts of people all over the world, is giving one hel of a performance! Please clap your hands for... LOKI!"
The screen switched to a raised podium, where a green-dressed man appeared from nowhere in the most bizarre introduction ever:
"I am Loki of Asgard, and I am burdened with glorious purpose."
"Ass-guard...?"
Tony looked to Pepper in askance, but no tangible answer was forthcoming. Pepper was too busy staring into the screen.
On stage, the man – the so-called hero – was pointing a threatening finger at the announcers. One immediately jumped off the platform, while the other attempted to hide by crouching behind the podium.
"Stand back, you Mewling quim"
"Mewling quim... Come on, what does that even mean?" Shaking himself, Tony got back on track. "Is this guy really the Superhero of the Year? He doesn't look like much."
Announcers now dispersed, the drama evolved quickly into a one-man monologue. And that one man seemed to have a lot to say, and a lot of evil cackling to accompany.
"The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy-"
"Forgive me for being too uncultured to appreciate his highborn English, but did he just say that freedom is a bad thing? Or rather, a sad thing, which is essentially the same?"
Tony was flabbergasted; the events on the screen were unfolding too fast for his genius mind to process. "Who does he think he is? Look, the gold-plated armour is kinda my thing. I mean, he's totally ripped his whole dashing-armour shtick off the 'Iron Man'. I suppose I should be flattered… but still, I think I'd like my fans back now."
Pepper sighed. "His outfit is armour. Your 'Iron Man' is a suit. They are completely different. You must admit he possesses a certain ...finesse which your obnoxiousness lacks."
"Pepper, please don't tell me you're a fan..."
Self consciously, the Stark Industries CEO denied, "What no, I just read his books... and browse his interviews on the net sometimes..."
To say that Tony was dumbfounded would be an understatement. "You never see my interviews! I mean, your appointment book is too full to pay homage to my awesomeness, but this guy's prancing is worth valuable corporate time?"
Pepper huffed, her voice laced with annoyance and just a bit of embarrassment. "I never enjoy your interviews because I always write your script! And then I feel like hitting my head against the wall, every single time, when you don't mention a word of what I wrote for you, no matter how many hours I slaved over your stupid statement; and I wince every time you simply mouth off with utter disregard for confidentiality and prudence-"
"Ok, I get it", Tony interrupted hurriedly, "My interviews raise your blood pressure. Fine. No problem. But why do you have to go for this guy" pointing his thumb at the screen. "I mean, what's his deal?"
"Firstly, your interviews are a problem. A nightmare, in fact, for the entire PR department, and especially for me. Second, he is famous for his stories, not his looks. Which, admittedly, are not bad at all" Pepper coughed delicately, "I mean, if someone was into that."
Which lots of people apparently are, she left unsaid, letting the salivating fans scream her point.
Getting her drift, Tony turned his eyes back to screen. "Yeah, these guys are uh- pretty crazy about him, I suppose."
"Oh, this is nothing." Deceptively casual, the former secretary leaned forward and whispered conspiringly, "You should see the cosplayers."
Tony would say something to that, but his tongue seemed to have gone on holiday, probably along with his fame and fans. Ignoring Pepper in favour of the TV, he wished he hadn't started the topic; he desperately wanted his eyes to stop zeroing in on the multitude of green clad people in the audience, some of whom sported freakishly huge golden horns.
He focused on the words instead, but they were hardly any better.
"-in this meagre palace of Midgard, the arena they call Hall H..."
"Midgard? What's that?"
The question was purely rhetorical, but –surprise, surprise– Pepper already had an answer ready. "That's what Earth is called in Old Norse. He seems to be a big Norse fan."
It was too much information for Tony, but his girlfriend didn't seem to get that. Probably too busy fangirling. "Apparently 'Loki' is the name of the Norse god of Mischief, whose life is speculated to have influenced this Loki's stories quite a bit. You know, the Loki of myth had been cut a pretty bad deal; the other gods used to blame him-"
"Hush, really? Are you a historian, Pepper?"
"I think the word you're looking for is 'mythologist'," she replied primly, "And no Tony, I am not. I'm a CEO, and also a babysitter, advisor and clean-up crew for the world's most irritating boss, who also has a problem with me enjoying good literature."
"Hey, I don't have a problem with you reading good literature. I'm just trying to show you that, if you continue like this, you'll end up being a member of his lame fan club."
To his shock, Pepper didn't contradict him, only mumbling something that sounded like "LA".
What? "Sorry, didn't catch that."
Pepper shrugged vaguely, trying to make light of her slip. "That's what they call themselves – the LA. You know, like DA is Dumbledore's army, LA is-"
"Loki's army? This guy's got an army? He has that many fans? Seriously? I mean, even 'Iron Man' doesn't have an army."
Pepper sighed, explaining patiently, "You are a superhero, Tony. You don't need an army."
"Doesn't mean I don't want one. Or can't have one. It would be pretty useful actually, especially when fighting bad guys. I mean, a few Iron Man suits would make the entire 'Avengers Initiative' redundant. Besides, this guy's a writer; why does he need an army?"
"To stop the rampage of fangirls, for instance." Pepper replied smartly.
Tony had no answer to that.
On stage, the author-superhero-whatever smiled winsomely.
"You should have let me rule you when you had the chance."
Tony scoffed. "Is he really a hero? Because he doesn't sound much of a hero now. More like 'I'm-so-great-I-deserve-to-be-king-of-the-world'... not really the selfless, patriotic image people apparently go for in this day and age."
Pepper winced. Apparently the Captain America incident still stung. "He's.. well, not a good guy exactly. At least, not by the normal definition. He is..., well, you could say he's 'morally ambiguous'-"
"Is that fan terminology again? 'Coz those people are crazy. He might be threatening to subjugate the entire planet and they'd just urge him on."
"Realm. He always calls it 'realm', not planet. I'm not sure why, but it fits in with the rest of his writing style - like an old-world, Shakespearan tale of intrigue and drama."
Realising she had digressed, much to the amusement (and slight terror) of her sort-of-but-not-quite-it's-kinda-complicated boyfriend, Pepper brought the original discussion back.
"As I was saying before you interrupted, his protagonist has more of a morally ambiguous personality, doing things that might not necessarily be honourable, but working for the ultimate good."
Tony was really starting to worry. Maybe he should make Pepper sign some iron-clad lock-up contracts to ensure she stayed in his company (well, now hers) and did not get sidetracked by possibly handsome writer aspirants.
While Tony's thoughts were spiralling, his girlfriend was still harping on her precious god-complex writer. "It adds depth to his story, actually. It shows how one sometimes has to make hard choices in life, how doing the right thing is not always enough."
They should have switched channels long back. Tony would have been infinitely happier not knowing about Pepper's weird norse-crush. At this point, only his pride stopped him from throwing the remote at the screen. That, and the fact that the TV was one-of-a-kind (custom-, or rather, self-made) and the slimmest in the world.
'Loki' seemed to agree, too. "Yet here you are..."
Tony did not like having the obvious pointed out to him. Particularly coz' the creepy guy seemed to be talking straight to him, even though he was only watching a recording. "Okay, who IS this guy?!"
Pepper's brow crinkled, like when the interns and temps botched up corporate reports with their bad spelling. "To be honest, even though he's so famous, no one's been able to get any info on him – his background, his history, qualifications, where he lived... it's like he just dropped on the Earth from outer space."
"I've been to outer space. It's kinda chilly there."
Pepper raised a disparaging eyebrow. Now Tony was trying to compete with the author? She knew, more than anyone, not to underestimate Tony's ego, but still...
"Kneel"
"Did you see that? He's got a fetish. Are there children in the audience? Because I don't think they're supposed to be seeing this. Or hearing this. Whatever."
Pepper wasn't shocked by the indiscretions of the man on screen. In fact, she had the audacity to look amused by Tony's antics. "As if you don't have a record of saying inappropriate things to children. And he clearly doesn't mean it that way. You are taking his words out of context. If you read his book, you'll know he doesn't mean anything dirty by it."
"Read his book? Not in a million years."
"But 'Kneel' is rather like a catch-phrase with him." Seeing Tony's disbelief, she went on, "Really. I saw this article on the net. A whole group of his fans gathered at Stuttgard when he was on a book tour. They all assembled in the square and knelt to him, swearing fealty till their dying breath. It was very...devout."
"It's not like he's really a god..."
"He's a novelist, his works are amazing, his style of writing totally unique – but he's also got tremendous stage presence, I mean, look at him, the crowds just can't get enough."
Pepper then proceeded to scar Tony for the rest of his career by saying, "That's why the director wanted him to play the lead role in the movie adaptation of the book."
Oblivious of his despair, she continued, "It makes sense when you think about it. Since the book is written in first person, people already relate to Loki as the protagonist."
"So what? I'm Tony Stark. I'm the Iron Man. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Every kid in the country knows my name."
Tony's competitive streak was going to be the death of her. But it wasn't like Pepper to let him go easy. She knew exactly how to make her former boss stew and sweat in his designer suit. "Oh, I don't know, Tony. I'm pretty sure by now all the kids know Loki's name as well. And while you're Iron Man, he's still a god."
Drawling out her words, she pretended to ponder. "But if you really want to argue over the semantics, then fine."
"Huh?"
"First, intelligence. He's definitely a genius. Again, if you read his books, you'll know."
Overriding Tony's outraged denials, she ploughed on, "Secondly, while he's not quite a billionaire, he's well on his way there. Do you know, his first book topped the bestseller's list for 18 consecutive weeks?"
"No, I did not know that. I did not want to know that, so no thank you."
"As for playboy... seriously, Tony; only you would introduce yourself like that with pride."
Tony shrugged, a bit of his charisma returning. "Hey, only I can pull it off. And don't say anymore; I bet he's a generous and charitable man with a heart of gold."
"As a matter of fact, he is. He's been involved in several campaigns to promote literacy and free speech, and in orphanage activities-"
"Say all you like, but he probably just does it for the satisfaction of having people kneeling at his feet."
"Okay, Tony; that's too much. What's your problem?"
"He got a movie! The Iron Man hasn't got a movie (yet)! What makes Mr. oh-so-narrow cheekbones special?"
Even as he said that, Tony eyed the green-gold performer from the corner of his eye, as he held a finger to his lips in a call for silence that only had the fans cheering more deafeningly. Panache, indeed.
"Your ears yearn for untold stories, your eyes crave unseen sights, your imaginations ache and hunger... Where are your Avengers now?"
Oh no. He did not say that. He did NOT just say that. That was like, a direct challenge! The sly bastard made it personal.
Tony clenched his fists, determined. He would find every piece of dirt on this guy, hack every account, examine his credit card details, track his mailbox, tail his contacts... and if all else failed, he would personally crash every damn fan website the stinky sneak had and effectively erase his fame from the world.
As if reading Tony's admittedly unflattering thoughts, the 'god' on screen held long elegant fingers (damn, such style) to his chest in welcome.
"Claim loyalty to me, and I will give you what you need."
"And I suppose that isn't an innuendo as well? He's talking about sunshine and rainbows and- and, and magic, and you seriously expect anyone to believe that?"
"Tony..." Pepper threatened exasperatedly.
Apparently, the audience took it Tony's way, but agreed with Pepper's opinion. Shrill voices began screaming variations of 'I love you', culminating in a steady chant of 'Loki, Loki, Loki'.
Apparently the author/actor-wannabe was also tone-deaf (in Tony's not too kind opinion), for his rejoinder was:
"Say my name."
"This entire conversation is more suited to a bedroom rather than a television. So let's just add exhibitionist to his many positive qualities, shall we?"
Pepper gave up, letting her charge stew in his pointless belligerence. Like every good nanny, she knew that kids get cranky after a long day, and Tony could be insufferable even on his good days.
Meanwhile, fans screamed the Norse God's name in ecstasy, delightfully unaware that their hero worship was doing quite heinous things to another hero's moxie.
"SAY MY NAME!"
Unlike the billionaire on the opposite side of the flatscreen, the man on stage was lapping up the attention with borderline-insane glee.
"It seems... I have an army."
"We have a Hulk" pouted Tony from his recliner. As usual, he was ignored.
...
Notice Tony's "we" at the end. Oh, Loki... completely changing the game, yet still managing to bring the Avengers together... that's a god for you.
It wasn't supposed to be this long. That's kind-of a standard A/N now.
I feel Pepper can't have worked for Tony for so long without developing some snark of her own (snark seems a crucial element of this tale). Do you think her dialogues came out ok? I wonder, but then I always remember the 12%.
Btw, entirely Comic-Con compliant, though I haven't included all of Hiddleston's lines.
Sorry, but I really don't know how one goes about publishing a book on Amazon. Bear with me, serious novelists out there!
As always, a big thank you to all those who are reading this! Your support and encouragement mean a lot. Special thanks to Sumi-Sprite and zzSnowWhiteQueenzz for the lovely messages.
I'd love if you readers checked out my other Loki fic 'My Own Home', and added me to your follows so you get updates on my planned Loki fics! Also, I run a community on FFnet for Jὂtunn works. Please read and review!