Author notes: For KyraTheurge , who was so nice as to provide me with a two-words prompt (sacrifice and fire). This little mix between norse mythology and the movie "Thor" is the result.
Special Thanks:Thanks x 100000 to the always amazing Tania_chan for helping with the beta-reading. All remaining mistakes (if any) are mine and mine alone.
And I Bid You Goodbye from the Frontier of the World.
There is no more light in Asgard but for that born from the fire.
From the rim of the world, Odin Allfather beholds how everything precious to him crumbles down into dust, leaving behind only the ghosts raised from memory and ash. There are no more stars, for they fled the sky after the great wolves sated their ages-long hunger with the Sun and the Moon.
Ragnarok has arrived and it won't forget any of Asgard's children.
"Your son has fallen like a hero." The words slither from the dark, velvety and almost gentle, but touched by a much too ruthless satisfaction to be able to disguise the cruelty in their nature. "The Great Serpent Jormungand has met its end under Mjolnir's merciless strength but I fear its poison proved a persistence not even the well-loved Thor could overcome."
Odin has been waiting for him since the moment the earth stopped its tremors and fell into a deceiving calm, knowing that such tranquility only heralded that his lost son had finally found himself free from his chains. Their reunion is as unavoidable as Surt and his fire that will consume all.
For Loki wouldn't be Loki if he was able to resist the need for a last joke, to write the Aesir's epitaph with the venom dripping from his silver tongue.
"Loki." Odin whispers, remorse from their parting long ago placing a heavy weight upon his old heart.
It takes only a couple of steps to erase the dark chasm separating them. Odin wraps his son, Laufey's son, in an embrace brimming with unspoken words, that once upon a time got lost in their path from the heart to the mouth.
Loki's tall and thin body tenses in his arms like a snake about to strike. For a moment, it makes Odin fear that all they'll be remembered for will be this last rejection. But it's an empty fear the one that flutters razor-sharp wings in the King of Asgard's mind, for Loki, after that instant suspended above the blade of a decision yet to be made, returns the gesture with the gentleness of someone who fears breaking the delicate affection held in his hands.
Now that all that remains of Time is but a fleeting murmur of its existence, now that the nine realms go towards their end with steps that cannot be taken back, the Father of All discovers that it's not that difficult to allow himself to simply be the Father of Loki. The one the King of Asgard had never allowed himself to completely be.
If Ragnarok, the end of everything that was and is, is all it takes to mend old grievances, to forgive disputes never gone from memory and to relight the embers of a love he thought long extinguished, Odin welcomes the sacrifice, glad he's been granted this last goodbye empty of resentment.
"Heimdall awaits." Loki gently disentangles himself from the embrace, his green gaze steel-firm but devoid of malice.
"So does Fenrir."
Both share a grave silence, pregnant with the knowledge that their paths part here to never cross again, before the thin line of Loki's mouth bends down in an amused smile, ready to offer one last joke.
"We mustn't delay our fate any longer then, Father." He urges Odin with masterfully crafted earnestness. "I couldn't bear arriving late to my final fight with Bifrost's ruthless Guardian. I daresay you remember those highly disapproving looks he used to bestow upon me in the years of my youth."
Loki lets out a theatrical sigh and brings a long-fingered hand to rest upon his heart, as if deeply affected by the thought. "I certainly don't want to be rewarded with one of those looks precisely on this day!"
Odin lets out an unstoppable laugh that disappears into the starless night. "Indeed I remember them!" He says, with a voice brimming with mirth. "And if my memory serves me well, every single one of them was well deserved!"
Loki's laughter, warm and bright, chases after his into the abyss and Odin tucks the loved sound away inside a gold-edged memory.
With a spirit far lighter than one would expect when facing the end of all there is, Odin Allfather, King of Asgard and Protector of the Nine Realms, throws an arm over his youngest son's shoulders and leads him with resolute steps towards the flame-craddled darkness.
"Let us go then, my son. It is due time that I pay my respects to the old fleabag."