Loki found himself standing within a giant library, a place unlike any he'd seen before.
Asgard had an impressive library, to be sure, but it paled in comparison to the one he stood within now. Or, he reminded himself, it once had a great library, but the only thing Asgard had now was a pile of ashes.
This library was as tall as three Jotunn standing one atop the other and consisted of four levels. The ceiling itself was vaulted, and each of the wooden beams were decorated in carved reliefs of the history and lore of the Nine Realms. There were small, plush chaises at the end of each row of books and beside them sat small tables with the fanciful lamps to encourage a wayward reader to sit and relax.
But what he found most perturbing was that the library had more rows of books than he could count, and he saw neither beginning nor end to the elaborate room, nor did he see another being. The library was as devoid of life as the far reaches of space.
He attempted to pace the length of the library, but still he could find no trace of an exit or an end, and it was only when he stopped moving that he recalled what had happened moments before—or he assumed to be moments before, at least.
Thanos. The gauntlet. The Stones.
His own death. His hand rose absently to touch the base of his neck.
But if he was dead, then why was he here? This place certainly did not resemble the afterlife in any way he might have expected. There was no great hall full of men awaiting the next battle, no heavenly gardens, nothing at all that reminded him that he was, in fact, dead.
"Do you wish to be?"
He turned towards the direction of the voice—a feminine voice, obviously, but not one he immediately recognized—but he found no one.
He tilted his head, both partially amused that someone had gotten one over on him and annoyed by the same. "Do I wish to be what?"
If he sounded curt, the voice didn't seem to notice. "Do you wish to be dead?" the voice repeated flatly, rather like they were discussing the weather.
His brow quirked. "Perhaps," he answered disinterestedly, turning up his head to study the reliefs. After all, it didn't really matter what he wished. If he was dead, he was dead, and there was little he could do about it.
But he hadn't thought the afterlife would be so dreadfully boring.
Thor had lived, the lucky bastard, else Loki assumed his irritating adopted brother would be stampeding through the library alongside him, demanding answers in that dreadfully loud and obnoxious voice of his. He supposed he had to thank fate for small favors.
"Ah," the voice replied after a moment, "I see. You have lost your purpose, son of Odin."
"I am no son of Odin," he was quick to retort, and the sneer on his face was more reflex than anything else. He was no son of Odin, no brother of Thor, yet still he lived under both accursed titles.
"Did he not raise you?" the voice asked. "Care for you? Provide you a home and kin?"
"He stole me," Loki was quick to remind her, "and took me from my birthright."
"Hmm." The voice fell silent, but it was slowly gaining an irritating familiarity that tickled in the back of his mind. He knew her.
Yet he could not recall her name at all. Who was she, this mystery woman, and why had his eternal soul be shackled to such an obnoxious being?
"Have you no questions at all, God of Chaos?" the voice asked, taunting him with her familiarity. "Perhaps you find the library soothing, for there is little mischief to make here."
Oh, he was sure he could come up with quite a few tricks with minimum effort, but instead his mind turned to Thor and Thanos. Half of the Asgardians had been murdered, and without aid, more would likely perish. Had he still been alive, he might well have taken a moment to tease Thor about being a member of an endangered species. Thanos intended to lay ruin to the universe in the same manner, and given how the Asgardians had failed, and having known Thanos' might firsthand, he strongly suspected the humans Thor so desperately loved would not succeed in stopping him. Thanos was already more powerful than he'd been during Loki's first encounter with the alien, and all of it was likely due to the stones embedded in his gauntlet.
"What's done is done," the voice said calmly, and he took that to mean that Thanos had already done what he'd set out to do.
And then, feeling rather like he'd been trampled by the Hulk yet again, recognition set in. "Vor." He turned on his heels, looking for the Asgardian goddess of wisdom, and a moment later, with a heavy sigh, she appeared before him. Vor, unlike many of the Asgardian court, preferred simplicity. Her brown hair was braided to fall along her back, and her bangs simply framed her face. There were no beads in her hair, no elaborate accessories, but she wore a three tiered plated bronze necklace, the last tier falling to along atop her breasts. Her strapless dress was a simple white, and the shoulderless sleeves ended in leather gauntlets. Simple braided sandals adorned her feet.
The only remarkable feature she possessed, he thought uncharitably, were her eyes, nearly dark as night, but with the reflection of the stars within them. They were hardly enough to overcome her other plain features, but interesting enough to keep her from being totally unnoticeable.
But then, Vor hadn't been one to enjoy the elaborate Asgardian proclivity for ceremony. She'd retreated from the court several centuries ago, and Odin had never bothered to say where. Perhaps he'd never noticed she'd disappeared, for the only regular companion she'd had was Odin's own wife. If Frigga had known herself, she had kept her own counsel.
She simply nodded.
Irritation thrummed through him, but he did his best to ignore it. "Why am I here, Vor?"
She raised a brow. "Have you any place better to be?" When he chose to keep silent rather than answer, she sighed again. "A surprisingly selfless act from you, Loki Laufeyson, to take on Thanos as you did."
The mention of his true name did little to appease him.
"I wonder," she continued with a slight pause, "was it to protect Thor or his people, or was it an attempt to prove Thor's misguided faith in you?"
"I don't believe you have any right to demand an answer," he replied.
"Perhaps not," she agreed levelly.
"Why am I here, Vor?" he finally demanded, his patience worn thin.
"Because I made a promise to your mother." Vor didn't show any emotion on her face at all to hint that she knew of Frigga's fate, but then her next words proved otherwise. "She was not there to help you, and so I have done so in her stead."
"Then why did you not help her?" he demanded before he could stop the words.
For the first time, Vor's face showed sadness, but her tone remained calm. "I could not." Vor turned her gaze towards the carved relief of one of Frigga's own tales, and to his surprise, he saw the mist of tears though she did not allow them to fall. "Frigga knew her fate. It was her gift, you know."
He didn't answer, but he knew. As talented as Frigga had been in illusionary magic, her precognitive magic was renowned. None had been her equal in all of Asgardian history. It was also the one magic she refused to teach him, claiming it was too heavy a burden to share.
"If she had lived, things would have become much worse." Vor's words sounded ominous, but he could hardly believe them.
Worse than how? He barely kept the demand to himself. Worse than the death of Odin, the release of Hela, the demise of Asgard and half the Asgardian race—and his own death? Worse than the destruction of half of all life in the universe?
Vor smiled back at him, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Are you?" she asked cryptically. When he raised a brow but refused to play her game, she added, "Do you believe you are dead, Loki?"
The question irritated more than it had the first time. "Are you?" he countered.
"Hmm." Her smile seemed much more real. "I am glad you think so positively of my home, but I'm afraid it is no afterlife. Can you feel your magic straining inside you?" At her words, he absently reached for it, and gasped as pain wracked his body. "Your magic is damaged from trying to sustain your broken body, and I imagine it will take some time to recover. This place is hidden from the universe, and few know of its existence. You will be safe here until you recover."
The tremors subsided, leaving him leaning against a shelf for balance as he attempted to regain his breath. Never before had he felt so weak and vulnerable as he did now without his magic flowing lively within him.
"I attempted to shield you from reaching for it, but you're so stubborn." Vor's lips twitched. "You remind me of Frigga when she was younger."
The comparison pleased him as much as it irritated him.
"And then?" he demanded.
Vor shrugged. "Then you do as you please." There was a knowing look on her face he immediately disliked. "Help Thor if you wish." Before he could counter that assumption, she added, "You'll find clean clothes, bathing and sleeping chambers to your left if you but will for them. Food and drink will be provided to you wherever you are whenever you ask for them."
"And you?" He scowled at the way she easily dismissed him.
She seemed to ignore his irritation. "I rescued you to fulfill a vow, Loki Laufeyson, nothing more. I have little interest in what you do until you leave. But," she cautioned suddenly, "you will not be allowed to leave this place until you have recovered. Only then will the exit make itself known."
To his immediate ire, Vor disappeared before his eyes in a gentle wisp of magic, leaving him alone with his thoughts in the library. He decided almost instantly that he'd find a way to escape before Vor saw fit to release him, and not, he told himself, because he wished to help Thor and his little spandex band of heroes, but because he had a score to settle with Thanos, and he saw no reason to allow Thanos the delight of killing Loki without repercussion.
Sooner rather than later, he'd escape this accursed library, but for now, he had a plot to devise for ridding the world of the tyrant Thanos.