The Long Way Home
Warnings: None for this chapter.
Disclaimer: I own neither anything related to Doctor Who nor Marvel. All canon characters belong to their respective owners. Any OCs belong to me.
Pairings: Eventual Lokane, Sif/Thor, mild Jane/OMC, Jane/Thor, Fandral/Darcy.
Length: 40 chapters
A/N: So this came about from the 50th Anniversary episode and one of my many personal head canons being that Jane and Loki could be like the Marvel equivalent of the Doctor and his companion with Loki's ability to travel between worlds and Jane's general awesomeness. So…I decided to go there. This first chapter literally takes place as Loki falls from the Bifrost in the first film, and Jane won't come into it for awhile. Loki's got a lot of character development to do before we set him loose in a Tardis ;). Two, the Doctor will occasionally show up, but this is by no means a Doctor centric story until the last few chapters. Since it's set before the Time War, most of the characters will be Classic Who characters. At the end of each chapter, I'll leave explanations for those who aren't informed about the Classic era. So on with the show!
Chapter Playlist: 'Letting Go' from 'Thor', 'Gallifrey' from 'Doctor Who: the End of Time Part 2', 'Lokasenna' from 'Thor: the Dark World', 'The Doctor's Theme' from 'Doctor Who' and 'This is Gallifrey: Our Childhood, Our Home' from 'Doctor Who Series 3'.
The Bifrost, Asgard
Loki could feel the dragging pull of the vortex beneath his feet, its depths just waiting to consume him whole, the cold metal of Gungnir's shaft burning his hand where he gripped it so tightly. His body ached from his battle with Thor, and his grip on the shaft felt weaker by the moment.
But none of that even impinged on Loki's consciousness. All his thought, all his focus, was on the man who held both Thor and him in an iron grip, his single, piercing blue eye burning into his with disappointment and regret, his words echoing in his ears like the thunder of Mjolnir.
No, Loki…
No? No? Pain and anguish ripped through him, tearing anew wounds which he had thought safely patched over, his heart shattering in a cascade of ice, leaving nothing but an empty void behind. Care, pride, even his anger at Thor for ruining his plans, bled away as Loki's heart broke asunder.
The winds of the Universe battered and picked at his cloak, chilling his skin, as he hung precariously above the void below his feet, mimicking the void in his heart. Without truly thinking it, without conscious decision, he loosened his grip on the shaft, never taking his eyes from his former father, even paying no heed to the entreaties of his brother.
"Loki, no!" Thor begged, a tone in his voice Loki had never heard before, but he paid it no mind. Thor could no longer hold him here; Odin could no longer command him. He saw himself in Odin's piercing stare, and felt nothing but revulsion. He would take death over the fate that awaited him here, to be the stolen relic, the prize captive, the pet Frost Giant of the Aesir's rulers. No more…
He would rather take death and welcome it, like the old friend he had evaded so many times before in battle, than remain here to be that.
Thor's final cry of denial thundered in his ears, as Loki's grip finally slipped from the staff, and he fell, his eyes never leaving Odin's in one last show of defiance and heartbreak. The old King whispered something, but it was lost in the rushing wind and freezing chill of space as he tumbled away from them, away from the broken shards of the Bifrost, away from Asgard and all he'd loved.
All a lie.
He should suppose it was ironic, really. He had once been infamous for his ability to lie and spin a web of falsehoods so complex only the sharpest of minds could untangle them, but now he was being destroyed by one so simple, so unlooked for, one he could never have foreseen. A lie that penetrated deep into his very being, his very identity.
Agony unlike anything he'd ever experienced tore him from his thoughts as his sight of Asgard faded away, replaced with darkness and fire and lightning. His nerve endings felt like they were on fire, his body stripped of being, of flesh and blood and masks, leaving only his mind, howling at the dark and fire and the agony. Time slowed, then disappeared entirely, Loki couldn't know. He existed not at all, and he existed everywhere at once.
He tried to fight, tried to force himself to remember who he was, that he was Loki, that he existed but even that belief was fast eroding. He couldn't move, he couldn't speak, he couldn't think. He could only fall.
Exhaustion claimed him, and with it, consumed the last of his resistance. He no longer had a body to know if he closed his eyes, but he stopped fighting and just let the winds of Time carry him where they would.
He fell. And he saw everything.
Time Control, Gallifrey
Far away, on a planet removed from Time, an alarm began softly bleeping, in the large octagonal room filled with consoles, visual screens on every surface lighting up with readouts, circular symbols interlinked with one another dancing across them in a chaotic whirl. From across the room, two men in long robes, one of deep red, the other of forest green, looked up from their conversation, the younger-looking of the two rushing to the nearest console.
"There's been a disturbance in the Vortex. A self-sealing tear in the fabric of space-time…" he trailed off, as his companion joined him, brows furrowed.
"Then why the alarm? As long as the rip has sealed itself, as you said, then there is no danger," the other asked, his eyes scanning the data readouts, then widening. "Impossible!"
"No, it would appear it is not. We need to inform the Lady President," his companion replied. "There is someone falling through the Vortex, and they're still alive."
The Lady President's office
The Lady President of the High Council of Gallifrey's office was an opulent, high-ceilinged room hung with paintings from the history of the Time Lords, deep red sofas dotting the wide expanse of marble flooring, leading up to the desk at which a figure with long blonde hair, tied tightly back into a severe, yet graceful, style. Deep red robes swathed her slender figure, her pale hands tapping out a rhythm on the desk's surface, as she heaved a bored sigh.
Outside, the twin suns of Gallifrey's solar system were setting in a blaze of scarlet light, bathing the planet in glory. The shields on the windows lessened the glare, nevertheless, the snow-capped mountains threw shards of light over the citadel of the Time Lords.
Lady President Romanadvoratrelundar, or Romana to those closest to her, looked up from her paperwork as the communications unit on her wrist blared at her. From beside her, a computerised voice piped up. "You have an incoming message, Mistress," K-9 Mark II trilled helpfully.
"Yes, thank you K-9, I can see that," she sighed wryly, nevertheless bending down to pat the metal dog's head affectionately. In all her time travelling with the Doctor, she had never fully understood the older Time Lord's affection for the mechanical dog, until she unexpectedly found herself copying it, without conscious decision. Nevertheless, K-9 was her closest companion and confidante in her new role as the Lady President of Gallifrey. "Well, let's see what this is all about."
"Visual clarification impossible, Mistress. It is an audio message only," K-9 piped up again, and Romana restrained the urge to roll her eyes.
"It's a figure of speech, K-9," she murmured, rising from her desk, gratefully leaving behind the paperwork she had been dutifully forcing herself to complete, and hurrying towards Time Control, K-9 in her wake, as two Chancellery Guards fell behind them, as they marched briskly through the halls of the Panopticon to Time Control.
What she saw when she marched through the doors and went straight to the console, made her go pale and her eyes wide, the halting explanations and exclamations of the two Gallifreyans working there falling on deaf ears. "What in Rassilon's name…?"
"Madam President," a deep, cool voice behind her almost made her startle but years of training and time spent in the backstabbing, tricky waters of Time Lord society prevented her from showing it, as she turned to meet the tall, imposing figure of Lord Cardinal Braxatiel.
"I don't know who is worse, Brax, with your propensities for sneaking up on people, you or your brother," she muttered, earning herself a slight smirk from the older Time Lord, who just inclined his head in reply. "Has all the High Council been made aware of the situation?"
"No, just me. Well, well, what do we have here?" Brax stepped up beside her, dismissing the two Time Control technicians and Romana's guard with a wave of his hand. "A rip in the fabric of space-time, and a physical object falling through the Vortex?"
"Not just an object, Brax, but a living being. They should have been torn apart by the Time winds the moment they entered the Vortex," Romana shook her head wonderingly.
"Do we know where the rip occurred?" he asked.
"Co-ordinates 10-2-44-0-0 from Galactic centre, in the 21st century, in the year 2011 in the Human measure of Time," Romana read off, her brow furrowing even as Brax nodded.
"Asgard. So they're Aesir. Well, the Aesir are a hardy bunch," he remarked, but Romana shook her head.
"You know as well as I, Brax, that not even the Aesir are strong enough to survive falling through the Vortex. Even a Time Lord would struggle to survive intact, let alone their sanity…." Romana shook her head. "Whatever this being is, they're different. Something new."
"So what course of action are you considering, Madam President?" Brax asked. Romana thought fast, and short of leaving whatever poor soul in the vortex to their fate, there was only one course of action left to her.
Romana chose to ignore the knowing look in Braxatiel's eye, as she made her decision. "We can't leave them out there, whoever they are. Regardless of the dangers, we do not know what their journey through the Vortex has done to them, and we cannot have them landing somewhere in Time and Space without consequences. Have a Tardis sent out to retrieve them and bring them here."
"The calculations will be difficult, even for us. They, whoever 'they' are, are travelling throughout all Time and Space at once. It will not be easy," Brax pointed out.
"K-9 has the operational capacity to make those calculations quickly. K-9?" Romana turned to the robot dog, who trundled forward, with an almost human eagerness if they didn't know better.
"Affirmative Mistress, the calculations are simple enough," the robot dog trilled.
"I'm glad someone thinks so," Brax muttered. "The High Council won't like this, Romana."
"Leave the High Council to me, Brax," Romana smiled an unholy smirk, that had the older Time Lord rolling his eyes.
"My dear brother would be so proud of his little protégée," he muttered, walking briskly away to organise the needed Tardis and K-9, for their impromptu rescue attempt. As the doors closed behind them, Romana's smirk faded, and she looked back at the data rolling across the screen, uncertainty and doubt in her eyes.
He was still falling.
All sensation bar that of the fall had left him, even pain. It was almost…peaceful. To float in nothingness, free and unburdened, his past and his pain left far behind him…or above him…or whatever direction he was falling in.
Until, suddenly, there was sensation again. There was pain and cold and heat, in contradicting waves of sensation that left him gasping and shaking, as he realised he had lungs again and could breathe, as he remembered he had a mouth and could make sound, and then…
A melody, soft and gentle, comprised of a single voice, that washed away the burning agony and the sensation of falling, filling his mind, the dark crevices of his soul and to the very extremities of his body. The infinite complexities of Time and Space whirled through his mind, and it was a fight to hold onto his sense of self, his identity even as a part of him yearned to give it up and just forget who and what he truly was. He just wanted to let go…
Abruptly the music in his head stopped, and with it, all sensation of pain or falling. Numb, he gratefully sank into it, everything going dark and relief washed through him. A voice, soft and soothing, echoed in his mind even as the pain faded away, and unconsciousness beckoned.
Rest, Loki of Asgard. You are safe now.
When he awoke, light burned through his eyelids, as consciousness slowly came back. Images flashed across his mind, strange things, dark things, places and peoples and battles and worlds yet to come…with an internal snarl, he regained control and forced them away, levering his lids up with effort.
His gaze met a wide, arching ceiling above his head, painted a bland shade of white. He was lying on a soft bed, plain covers drawn up to his chest, his arms folded atop them. Turning his head to the side, he saw a long room stretching away from him, filled with empty beds until they reached a large pair of double doors, closed.
"Ah. Good, you're awake," a feminine voice spoke from his other side, and his head whipped around, faster than perhaps he should have done, as pain wracked his neck and he winced. "Careful, you're still recovering from your ordeal."
The speaker was a slender woman, with straight golden hair in a tight bun, clad in flowing scarlet robes trimmed with gold and orange. She sat beside his bed, hands folded demurely in front of her, seemingly ordinary, but her gaze, direct and strong, spoke of knowledge and dark things beyond even Loki's experience.
"Who are you? Where am I?" he asked, his voice a harsh croak. "I don't remember…"
"Anything after falling from the Bifrost on Asgard?" the woman gently prompted, and Loki's gaze narrowed, spearing her, but she was unaffected. "I hope you will forgive me, but when you were pulled from the Time Vortex, your mind was greatly damaged. I was forced to enter yours to heal the damage."
At her words, Loki felt terribly vulnerable, a feeling he knew he did not like. "So you know everything? It was…your voice in my head!" he replied questioningly, careful to keep his tone light and unconcerned, but by the smile on her face, his apparent saviour was not fooled.
"Yes, I do. Loki of Asgard, and yet not. A child of two worlds," she murmured softly, and he flinched, looking away. The woman sighed, rising from her seat to reach for a carafe on a side table, pouring some brilliant green liquid into a glass. "This is a restorative. It should help you regain your energy, and we will talk more, Loki of Asgard."
She held it out to him, and Loki eyed her pointedly. "You still have not answered my question. Where am I and who are you?" he replied firmly. His interlocutor smiled, but Loki wasn't going to give up this time. Their wills clashed, and the woman inclined her head.
"Very well. I am Romanadvoratrelundar, Lady President of the High Council of Gallifrey, and you are in the Citadel of the Time Lords. We rescued you from the Vortex when we detected your presence there."
"Gallifrey? Impossible, you are but myths," Loki scoffed, as Romana spread her hands.
"Yet here we are. Millennia ago, we removed ourselves from the flow of Time in this Universe, and we intervene only rarely," she explained. "We are but legends to many, even among the advanced species such as Asgard. Nevertheless, that is where you are, Loki Laufeyson-"
"Do not use that name!" Loki bit out, snapping without thought. The woman stopped, eying him thoughtfully. "If you truly looked into my mind, you would know that I am not- that…name is not-"
"One you prefer?" she cut in. "Then perhaps it is time to fashion yourself another, Loki of Asgard. Now drink, rest, and we will speak later."
Loki reluctantly took the glass, staring suspiciously at the liquid inside, briefly considered throwing it at the wall, then swallowed it in one gulp. That would be Thor's reaction, and…he flinched from the thought of his pseudo-brother and the thought of what he had left behind as he drank.
It was acrid and burned his throat, but the moment he finished it, he felt sweet, blessedly dreamless sleep beckon.
Once more, Loki did not know how much time passed between sleeping and waking, only that this time when he awoke, the last lingering dregs of pain were gone, and he felt rejuvenated. He pulled himself up in bed, and this time noticed he was clothed in a clean, loose set of breeches and shirt, his feet bare as he swung them to the floor. He looked to the side and spotted a long, dark coat and boots awaiting him. He slid them on, and stood tall and strong. Taking a few careful steps, he soon realised he was fully recovered and walked across to the wide windows a short distance away.
And looked out onto an extraordinary world.
The sky and earth was red, the snow on the mountain ranges surrounding them dyed scarlet, and the twin suns burned in the sky. He looked down on reaching spires and tall, majestic towers, enclosed within a great bubble of energy.
So this is Gallifrey…the legends did no credit to its beauty, Loki thought, his eyes scanning the vista before him curiously. Despite the impossibility of it all, he could not fault the evidence of his eyes, master of illusions that he was. Experimentally, he reached for his magic and felt it, soothing and familiar in this strange world as he closed his eyes and let it wash over him.
Just then, his senses picked up the sound of footsteps advancing towards the room where he had lain, and he spun to face his guest, arms folded and his bearing regal and strong. Regardless of all else, he was still a Prince, raised to be so.
Pain twinged in his heart at that thought, but he forced it away and concentrated on the person coming ever close to his room.
The great doors opened, and a figure slipped inside. Tall, tanned and slender, the figure smiled cautiously at him as she stepped closer, clad in leather garments, a knife at her belt and a pouch at her hip. Long brown hair hung to her shoulders, and she walked with the steady grace of a warrior.
And interestingly enough, Loki sensed this woman was human.
"I am Leela," she began calmly. "Lady Romana's official bodyguard. She has sent me to fetch you. She wishes to speak with you."
Loki's brows furrowed. "I thought her name was-?"
"Her full name, yes. But to those closest to her, she is Romana. Now come," the woman, Leela, gestured impatiently for him to follow her. Forcing down his indignation, he fell into step beside her as they left the room where he'd been kept, and into a long, winding corridor.
"You are not of this world," he probed carefully, and she nodded, as they walked along.
"I am human," she replied shortly. "But I am married to a Gallifreyan, Commander Andred of the Chancellery Guard."
"And how does a human come to be on a world so legendary as Gallifrey?" Loki asked, as Leela eyed him suspiciously.
"By many ways, stranger," she remarked evasively, and he smirked.
"You do not trust me," he stated, and she nodded.
"I do not yet know you well enough to judge if you are trustworthy. Now come, the Lady President is waiting," Leela replied, her stride lengthening, walking fast even for a human. As they walked, Loki looked all around him, his eyes drifting over the graceful but functional architecture of the Citadel, as they passed through covered courtyards were fountains trickled, and pleasant green spaces stood out in the minimally elegant style of the Citadel of the Time Lords.
Leela led Loki through several corridors, populated by many. He saw men in red and white uniforms, guards of some kind and guessed they were the Chancellery Guard Leela had spoken of, and then there were the Time Lords, in long robes of varying colours and styles, some old, some young, all talking seriously, only pausing when Loki and his guest walked by.
Leela noticed him looking and smirked. "You caused a stir when you were brought here. Not all approved Madam President's decision to save you," she explained.
"I'm used to disapproval," Loki sighed, as she led him to a stairway, and they began to ascend.
Finally, they stopped outside another set of towering double doors, as Leela pushed them open and gestured for Loki to precede her. "She's waiting for you."
"What, leaving me alone with your precious Madam President?" Loki quipped, with wide eyes as Leela glared at him, before she smiled. Evilly.
"Oh, the people of this planet are not warriors. Well, not most of them. I wouldn't say the same of Lady Romana," was all the human woman had to say before she turned on her heel and walked away.
Shaking his head, Loki stepped inside, feeling the door shut behind him. He was inside a great office, empty and cold, but he spotted the open doors leading out onto a balcony. A flash of scarlet and gold told him where the Lady President was waiting for him.
Romana stood at the railing of the balcony, looking out over the Citadel, and beyond to the wilderness outside the city walls. She was calm and relaxed, as he slowly paced forward to take a place by her side.
"I see you are recovered?" she asked quietly, and he nodded. "Good. I asked Leela to bring you here to discuss some things with you."
"What's a mortal doing here on Gallifrey?" he asked. "If my…if the Aesir are not even Time-aware, then how can a human come to be here?"
"She travelled with one of my people for a time, as his companion. I too have travelled beyond Gallifrey," Romana explained, a warning implied in her tone. "Leela comes from a tribe descended from human explorers in the future who crash-landed on her home planet. While uneducated, she is far from unintelligent. Do not make the mistake of underestimating her as many here do, to their cost."
Loki mentally scoffed but said nothing. Humans, from whatever era, were little match for his strength and speed.
"I did not bring you here to speak of Leela," she continued. "I think you know why you are here, Loki."
"You wish to discuss my future," he replied, and she nodded. Something in the void centred where his heart once was sank, and his hands tightened on the railings. He felt Romana's gaze on him, but refused to meet it.
"You are an enigma, Loki. When I entered your mind to heal you, I saw so much darkness, hatred, rage and loathing, that even now logic would counsel I send you away. Yet, I saw so much more there…" she murmured, moving closer to him and setting her hand over his. He flinched at her touch, his eyes flicking to her face, a wry smile on her lips. "A perception filter built into your very DNA. I would call it fascinating if it were not so cruel."
"Perception filter? Nay, it is an illusion, a spell to shield my true face from myself and others," Loki frowned, his hand tightening into a fist beneath her fingers.
"Magic, science, they are one and the same at their most basic level. We chose the science of numbers, the Aesir chose the science of words and instinct. Whether a perception filter or an illusory spell, it is exactly the same," Romana took her hand away, waving it dismissively. Loki watched her closely. "Do you not think your family is concerned for you?"
"No doubt they think me dead," Loki breathed out. "And they were not my family."
Romana said nothing, making him shift uncomfortably, uneasy. "So, Madam President, if I am so dangerous why have you not thrown me off your planet? I am healed, you have no obligation to me," he began, but Romana held up her hand to ward him off.
"I have not finished what I wished to say. Yes, you are dangerous and bitterness eats at you like a cancer, but your potential….your potential is so much more than that," she breathed, and Loki glanced at her, surprised. Romana turned to the view before them and gestured, spreading her arm wide to encompass it and the stars beyond. "This Universe stands on a constant knife edge, between destruction and survival, the Web of Time the only thing stopping it from disintegrating altogether. Our task has always been to oversee it, to maintain the balance in the Universe."
"As the legends say," Loki murmured. "What is it you are hinting at, Madam President?"
"You say your old life is dead, I do not disagree with you. The crimes you have committed are grievous, and you have the potential to commit far worse. And yet, your potential to be so much more than you are, than you think you can be, is without measure. For some time, I, and others, have been attempting to open Gallifrey up to the Universe once more, to open ourselves up to the possibility of learning from the peoples we protect, and to offer learning in return. I offer you that chance."
"You want me to remain here, on Gallifrey, and learn from you?" Loki asked, his brow furrowed questioningly.
"More than that. For the first time in our history, the Time Lord Academy will admit not only students from our own people, but also from the wider Universe. I want you to join them, to study and learn our ways and principles. I want you to become a Time Lord," Romana finished, as Loki stared at her. "You forget, I have seen inside your mind. You thirst for knowledge as some do for water, and with your power, who knows what new discoveries you may find? And there is more…you fell through the Vortex, you fell and you survived. No other has achieved such a feat in all of Time and Space without losing at least their sanity. You saw things no one should see, could see before. You are already changing, Loki son of none. You do not yet comprehend how much, or the choice you will have to make when you do, so please accept our guidance. Let us help you."
As she spoke, once again those strange images flashed across his mind's eye, and he heard once more that strange, haunting melody in his mind. He closed his eyes, and even as pain washed through him, splintering his senses, he pushed it away. "You wish me to become one of you? A Time Lord?" he asked.
"If you prove worthy and pass the requisite examinations, satisfy your tutors and so forth, then yes," Romana replied steadily. "Like I said, Loki, you have great potential but only you can decide what you will do with it."
A few hours later, and Loki still stood on that balcony, looking out over the Citadel. Outwardly he appeared calm and relaxed, but inwardly he was anything but.
His mind raced and his heart pounded. With effort, he restrained his clamouring emotions and forced himself to think. Such an offer required deliberation and Loki already sensed that Gallifrey was a world on which one did not make rash, impulsive decisions if they wanted to stay alive.
The truth was, his old life was dead and he had nothing to go back to. He shut out memories of Thor, of Frigga and the golden beauty of Asgard determinedly. It had all been a lie, anyway.
He had nowhere in the Universe to go, and these people had offered him shelter, and what was more, a purpose. Oh, he had no illusions that there were other motives to it than that, but the possibilities that existed here outweighed any drawbacks. The knowledge that existed here, the power he could gain as a Time Lord, the possibilities that existed….it was a seductive proposition.
Romana had said he possessed great darkness. In his heart, he had always known it even as he repressed it for centuries, the darkness that was inherent in his Jotunn blood. His failed attack on Jotunheim had proven that, but….what now?
What could he do now? Stay on Gallifrey or…what? Seek vengeance? The prospect was almost as seductive as Romana's offer, but he discarded that option almost immediately. He had no way off this planet, could sense no hidden pathways as he could on Asgard or any of the Nine Realms, and he doubted he would be readily released by the Time Lords for such a purpose. What else? Take a kingdom to rule?
It was his birthright, his soul burned with it. He was born to be a King, but the very man who had uttered those words didn't really mean them. He had lied to Loki, lied so deeply that the lie was buried within his very skin, and…Loki did not find the prospect as attractive as it once was. What he truly longed for, he realised, as he contemplated all he had learned in a few short hours and from his fall through the Vortex, was that he wanted freedom. Freedom from Odin, from Thor, from their shadows and from the shadow of his true birth.
If he were to do as he had been trained, then would he not be merely continuing in his former family's shadows? If he sought vengeance, would he not merely be succumbing to the Jotunn darkness in his blood, a part of his nature he abhorred? Proving his pseudo-father right even as he fought to prove otherwise? Hadn't that been what Odin's last words to him on the bridge were.
No, Loki…
The words echoed in his mind, and he sighed, bowing his head. He let the pain, the rage, the anger wash through him one last time, his fist tightening on the rail and cracking it, his skin momentarily transmuting to a sapphire blue before he carefully locked them all away. Every emotion, every thought, every memory of his former life he suppressed and locked away in a shadowy corner of his mind he had no intention of revisiting.
He sensed a presence behind him, and turned to see Romana there, watching him guardedly.
He had no doubt that he was as much a prisoner here as he had been on Asgard, but this prison had a key to his release. He would wait, and watch, and learn and then one day…he would have the power to claim his due. Freedom.
He allowed none of what he truly thought to show on his face, as he swept Romana a bow, and rose gracefully. Despite all, he was still a Prince, and he would behave as one. "My Lady President," he began, aware that once he started on this path, he could not turn back. "I humbly accept your offer to join the Time Lord Academy."
To be continued…