Chapter 36:
It leads him back to this place.
This barren rock of nothing.
Of cold, lifeless death.
Floating anonymous and lost in the darkness of the void.
It leads him back here; to his own place of torment.
And Loki thinks, through his unwanted and burgeoning dread, how fitting a place it would be for the end of two monsters.
He pushes that dread down as the rock forms around him, blue and black and silent, hard and stale beneath his booted feet.
How strange this place…
How strange.
He did not notice before, through his own, panicked agony.
Through his own desperation.
It gives no sound.
No echo.
No noise as he steps forward, boot against ground.
Nothing.
He smiles grimly.
Fitting indeed.
Loki would almost think he had been borne of this wretched scrap of rock, if not for the stifling, dead weight of the air, cloying uncomfortably at his cool skin.
Another step forward, and there is the unease of certain danger along the hairs of his arms, the back of his neck, and he smothers it with a sneer.
He will not be afraid.
He will not be weak.
Not he…
Not Loki…
Warrior…
Prince of Asgard…
He will not.
"Thanos!" He calls, loudly and unwavering, his voice falling flat and unmoving around him.
And that is all it takes.
Around him, the silence shatters and out of stillness explodes hundreds upon hundreds of them, snarling and roaring and hissing grotesquely, baring their fangs and their claws and their weapons.
Those same instruments of his own torture and defilement.
The Chitauri.
And fear is quenched by rage.
Growing, hot rage.
And Loki draws his power to him, thick and thrumming and cool; like relieving ice through his very veins, spreading and expanding and threading through him in almost uncontrolled, chaotic waves.
His eyes fill with it, lighting and glowing with its strength, its promise of life and death, creation and destruction; burning green fire.
They surround him, and he moves not, standing and still.
A sharp hooked staff forms and materializes, sure and balanced in his hand.
And in them, he senses hesitation.
His lips quirk up, only faint, and he looks up ahead of himself.
Staring ahead…
"Come on, then." He says softly.
They lunge towards him in a throng.
/
"My husband!" Frigga calls, hands buried in the flowing train of her nightgown as she runs towards him, as he mounts his steed without delay. "My husband, answer!" She goes on, at last reaching him, stopping and breathing heavy as he settles himself into the saddle of his stallion.
"You see him?" She asks, looking up, hand to chest. "You see Loki?"
"I sense him." Odin replies, staring ahead. "I must seek Heimdall. Loki is in great danger."
"From whom?" She presses. "What?"
Odin glances down at her, brow heavy with weariness.
For several, long moments, he says nothing, and the Queen feels dizzy with dread.
"… It is Thanos, the Mad Titan."
Frigga gasps, tears immediate and unbidden to her eyes.
"… No." She breaths in barely a whisper. "It cannot be…"
"I did not know… I did not realize until this moment…"
Odin's voice trails, and his eyes lower.
"It is Thanos who took Loki in the void. I have seen it, in a dream. Thanos who took him… tortured him…"
The Queen looks away, eyes closing as her tears fall, hot and painful down her white cheeks.
Her hands begin to tremble.
"I have been a fool Wife." The All-Father goes on. "Such a fool…"
"Is… is Thor with him?" Frigga questions urgently.
Odin hesitates a moment.
"… No." He says after a moment. "Our first son resides still on Midgard, with his shield companions. Loki has left him behind."
Frigga cannot keep the strained worry from her expression, her hands clutching at her chest, fingers folding against her palm.
"He is alone then?" She says. "He faces this danger alone?"
Odin nods grimly.
"Aye." He says, hands clutching tight round the reins of Sleipnir. "But not for long."
And he kicks against the great steeds sides, whipping the reins.
"Hye!" He calls. "Run horse! Carry me swift!"
And the eight legged stallion roars forward, hooves thundering and loud as he carries his rider from the stables and out, charging like lightening out towards the Rainbow Bridge.
/
It is a wave of raw energy which drives them back, blasting their second and third waves clear off their feet, onto their backs, the first wave evaporating in the heat of magic and fire.
And Loki spins, violent and fast and all fluid grace, twirling his staff in a curving arc, his other hand filling with a razor edged blade.
Halfway through his rotation, and he lets it fly, hearing it reach its mark, sinking several inches into the throat of an approaching soldier, dropping him dead as Loki's eyes fix on the three before him, and his staff comes around with him momentum, charged at the end with magic.
He slices it through them, across their abdomens, and their insides implode before they ever get within five feet.
Dozens more hurl themselves towards him at once, no apprehension, and Loki meets them, more daggers coming to his hand, slicing with lethal precision through the air, felling several in quick succession as he takes out another approaching swath with his staff, ripping it through them as he spins, a roar tearing from his lips as he calls his magic to his hand, letting the energy coil and conduct through the hilt of the weapon and explode outwards in a blast, taking another wall of Chitauri.
What seems forever, this keeps on, the trickster god never moving from his position at the center, only turning to meet his attackers, sometimes not as he fells them with knives and encompassing blasts of his power, cracking his staff against the ground and sending the shockwaves of it outwards and fully around him.
Any who manage to come within a few feet, he impales at the staffs end.
What seems forever.
Until it is not, and there are only a few dozen left, and in blinding rage and hate, Loki destroys them as though they are nothing, and he cries out, voice broken and ragged and breathless.
Head dizzy with the berserker lust.
"I am not so weak as you found me!" He says, looking around him at the destruction of their army, the bloodied and lifeless corpses of the dead creatures. "Useless worms! I am a GOD! And you taste the power of a god undiminished!"
There is a sound, metal against rock, and scurrying fear, and Loki turns, eyes narrowing, green glow from between enraged slits.
"YOU!" He snarls, and in an instant, he's thrust his hand out towards the fleeing form, feeling the surge of power through the tips of his fingers, rippling through the air as it seizes its target.
The figure freezes, paralyzed, a horrified scream tearing from his ugly mouth.
He tries uselessly to break free.
Loki stalks towards him, reaching out as he comes within distance, long, thin fingers burying in the material of the creatures hood, ripping it back to reveal his gnarled and deformed face.
The trickster god doesn't smile as he comes round, facing the Other, his mouth set into a disdainful line.
The Other stares back with wide and terrified eyes.
"Where?" Loki hisses, reaching out and grasping the Chitauri general by his jaw, squeezing down with crushing pressure. "Where is he?"
The Other's face twists in hatred, jaw moving and gnashing as he stares back at the god with venom.
"You will pay for this, trickster!" He spits. "You will be torn limb from lim…"
Loki backhands him, hard, and the Others voice dies in his throat, bone cracking and fracturing beneath skin.
"Coward." The god hisses. "He is a coward then. Sending his low and pathetic minions to face his enemy."
An expression of shocked indignation comes over the Others face, and he snarls…
"You dare speak of him in your filthy tongue!"
"Your master deserves no less than the finest of insults." Loki shoots back, unflinching. "For so refined a bastard only the sharpest tongue should be reserved."
"You insolent…! Wretched… Jotun scum RUNT! You will be destroyed for this! You will be…"
He hasn't the chance to finish, a surge of power crippling his voice.
And his eyes go wide in the instant after, as his insides come undone; and blood trickles deep from the holes of his face, the life in him flickering out.
Loki's face sets in unhappy lines, and he lets the dead creature slip from his hand to fall crumpled on the barren and cold dirt.
He turns, eyes casting up, arms thrown wide.
He hollers into space.
"Do you hear me, Thanos! You are a coward if you will not come and face me! A vile disgrace!"
Nothing in response.
The rock has again grown silent.
And Loki feels the rage boil over, drowning him in it, washing away thought or fear.
"YOU LOVE DEATH? YOU CLAIM THIS LOVE? DEATH WILL ONLY FROWN UPON ONE SO SHY TO FACE HER! NAY, SHE WILL SPARE YOU NOT EVEN HER NOTICE FOR SUCH A GESTURE, YOU SO BENEATH HER ATTENTIONS!"
"Your tongue betrays you, little god." A base voice behind him says.
Loki freezes, feeling his frame tense.
Fear returns, and he pushes it back down.
"… My tongue does not betray me." He answers, and his voice is strong and steady.
Deep laughter.
"It betrays you." The voice repeats. "As it always has. As it always will."
And Loki shakes his head, and he turns, and he sees before him the Mad Titan.
Stares up at him, and forces himself to stay.
"It does not." He answers back again. "As it produced the desired affect."
Thanos grins, and Loki struggles to keep the chill from his face.
"You are your own greatest enemy, Loki." He says, hands folding behind his broad back.
"And so too am I yours." The god replies smoothly, effortlessly, keeping his eyes locked on the being before him.
Thanos takes a step near, cocks his head aside, narrowing his gaze on the trickster.
"And you have grown bold since last we met." He goes on, as though he hasn't even heard Loki's threat.
Loki remains silent now, refusing to look away though every part of his being cries for him to.
"Do you think this encounter will be any different, godling?" The Titan presses, moving around, beginning to circle.
Loki remains as he is, determined not to move with him, to not allow Thanos to dictate this.
"It will be different." He says.
Thanos laughs.
"How then Loki?" He goes on. "Your power cannot match mine. You know this. And you have given away any ambush you might have hoped to spring, though futile it would have been."
He is moving around behind Loki now, and it takes every ounce of discipline the trickster god has ever known to not turn and face him.
His hands clench at his sides, fingers tightening around the staff.
"… It matters not." He grinds out.
Thanos affects a surprised expression.
"Oh?" He asks. "And why not?"
"I will not cower before you, Thanos." Loki answers. "I will not run. And that is different."
A soft chuckle from the Titan.
"And you have claimed word for word the same in the past."
And now Loki turns, face composed but tight with rage. He glares unblinking at Thanos, meeting him steady and strong.
"You will not use me again, Titan." He says. "You will never force me to willing bended knee again!"
"And we shall test these claims, boy!" Thanos suddenly roars, and without further warning, he lunges at Loki, striking out with vicious speed and strength.
And Loki dissipates before him, wavering with his strike before vanishing to nothing.
Thanos stumbles slightly, and turns, for a moment, his face twisted in unfathomable rage.
But as quickly as the emotion comes, it goes, and a humored grin spreads over his features.
"Clever, Loki. You are so clever." His eyes scan around him.
Searching.
Grin widening as he sees what he looks for.
"Oh, but not quite clever enough!"
He reaches out, reaches in, to the spaces between, and tears…
Loki cannot help his startled gasp as the Titan rips him from the other plane, or the momentary loss of breath as he's pulled unforgivingly back and hurled like a toy across the unyielding landscape.
He lands, hard, against his shoulder, curling in on himself and rolling back to his feet, holding himself crouched only a moment before springing back up. And with a yell of enraged power, he thrusts his hands forward, a massive flash of green light and swirling energy blasting forth from the tips of his fingers, towards Thanos.
It takes the Titan by surprise, and he barely is able to lift his arms in time to block before the blast hits him, sending him flying off his own feet and back several meters.
Loki doesn't hesitate, striding a few paces before breaking into a full run, leaping into the air as he goes, staff forming in his hand, and he drives it down over the felled Titan, aiming for his heart.
Thanos rolls, narrowly avoiding the strike, and as Loki comes down, the Titan lashes out, slamming a fist against the back of the gods head, throwing him off balance to stumble forward.
But it is fast Loki regains himself, turning, eyes blazing and bright.
Thanos grins.
"You are fast, godling." He says. "But you are outmatched. You will die if you continue against me."
Loki's lips twist in hate.
"Then so be it!" He spits. "But I will not yield!"
Again, fiercely, he throws himself at the Titan, drawing his staff up and around in a wide arc, pushing his magic through to its hooked end.
And it strikes true, slamming with all the gods strength into Thanos' side, burying deep.
Loki's teeth grit as he pushes, dragging and turning through with the blow, tearing a wide gash along the Titans flesh.
Thanos grunts in pain, and for a moment, a brief, suspended moment, Loki allows himself to hope.
Maybe he can…
Maybe he truly can win this.
But as quickly as the hope comes, it is trampled, as Thanos grabs round the staff, giant hands crushing and twisting, and in a single tug, he tears the weapon from Loki's hands and out of his side, tossing it away with a vicious snarl.
"Insolent whelp!" He hisses.
And in the next instant, he has gathered his own energy and let it erupt from his hands, towards the trickster.
Loki throws his hands up, a field of his own magic forming around him.
Still, the blast pushes him back, his feet digging into the hard ground, sliding underneath him, and his teeth grind so hard they feel as though they may crack, eyes squeezing shut.
Thanos' energy is near overwhelming, and the god pushes back against it with everything he has.
He knows it will not be enough, and for an instant, panic blooms in his heart.
… Fear.
Thanos moves forward, increasing the strength of the blast, pressing.
And Loki's knees nearly give way from the pressure; from the strain on his own magic.
It is taking all of it just to hold the Titan off.
"Foolish little boy…" Thanos is saying, coming closer. "Did you think you could actually challenge me? Me, who is as ancient as the Nine themselves!"
Closer, and Loki collapses to one knee, hands held up before him, arms shaking with the struggle to maintain his shield.
He can't hold it much longer…
He spares no energy on replying.
And still, the Titan moves closer.
"As I said, you are your own greatest enemy, Loki. Your sentiment controls you."
Loki's eyes clamp tighter, moisture gathering in their ends, teeth grinding harder.
"… No." He breathes, trying with everything to focus, to maintain.
Thanos smiles, seeing him start to weaken.
"You could have had it all, child." He goes on, closer still. "You could have had power beyond your wildest imaginings. Master of an entire Realm, slave to none but myself, if only you had done as you were told and stayed at my side."
Loki's other knee gives out, crashing to both now.
Tears escape down his face, contorted in strained concentration.
"If only you had not failed me, as you fail everyone." Thanos pushes.
And Loki's eyes snap open, clouding with rage.
"No!" He spits, looking up.
His entire form trembles now, near uncontrollably.
He is losing this.
He knows he is.
Thanos' power is too much, too great for him.
And it will consume him the moment he lets his shield break.
It will kill him, he knows.
But it matter not anymore.
It matters not.
He will not yield.
He will not cower…
"No." He repeats, locking his blazing eyes on the Titan, unfaltering. "Those are pretty lies."
Thanos stares back, almost curious.
"But you cannot lie to the god of lies!" Loki goes on, undeterred.
His hold on the shield is crumbling, weakening.
It will not be much longer.
"You think… you think I did not know your true intent?" He asks.
Sweat forms, thick and heavy across his face.
He can feel his magic depleting, lessening…
"You wished only to use me as the prophecies are writ!" He cries. "You sought me as your instrument to the end of all things! As your tool to please your mistress!"
Thanos steps towards him, pushing harder, and agony sears through Loki, a sharp gasp tearing from his lips as he fights viciously to uphold his energy.
"You thought me too weak to defy my fate! You would have had me retrieve the Tesseract as your key to the gates of Asgard!" He struggles out harshly. "As your means to obtaining the Infinity Gauntlet!"
Another step, and the field wavers, flickering.
Loki's eyes squeeze tight, more tears down his cheeks.
"And you would have used it to end all things! All the Nine Realms! The promise of Midgard to me was empty! Hollow! As you would have taken it too as your gift to her! All the world tree!"
Thanos grins.
"Clever, clever boy." He whispers.
And his power presses harder, pushing slow through Loki's own, touching the tips of the gods fingers, white hot burning.
Loki chokes out…
"But you… y-you read me wrong Titan." He spits. "You read me wrong. I never… never wished to rule. I ne-never wished to sit upon a thrown!"
He looks up, eyes opening, thick with tears and anger.
"And no matter how you may have taken my rage and twisted it further, twisted it to hate…"
His magic begins to crumble around him.
"No matter Thanos! I never have betrayed my home! And I never will! I failed you on purpose!" Loki cries, voice rising. "I failed to retrieve your key to power with INTENT!"
Thanos rages, voice erupting in a deafening boom as he pushes one, last time, shattering Loki's field, his raw energy washing over and taking the god, lifting him from the ground and blasting him backward through the air.
A sharp cry rips from Loki's throat, the heat unlike any he has ever felt, tearing into him, beneath his cool skin, seeping into him and grasping, crushing, strangling as it latches to his energy and consumes.
He lands far, and broken, unmoving, an involuntary gasp tearing from his throat as his body fights to breathe.
And he can't.
He can't…
He feels no breath in his lungs.
Another, panicked gasp, and the pain is worse than any he has ever known, radiating, burning, and he feels sure the very meat is being rent from his bones.
Thanos moves towards him with unnatural speed, on the god in mere moments, reaching down.
And Loki can do nothing, lying shattered and limp.
The Titan takes him by his hair, lifting him, face twisting in disgust.
"You have no home, little god!" He spits. "No place you belong!"
Loki stares back, the fierce green of his eyes faded to pale, the taste of copper filling his mouth.
"… I am… of Asgard." He replies weakly.
Thanos sneers.
"No, foolish child." He says. "You are an unwanted runt, a cast off from a race of monsters. Stupid boy! You defend a Realm which has no love of you! No use of you even!"
Loki's hands lift, grasping loose hold of the Titans wrist, fingers curling.
"… And still…" he says. "still I have more than you ever have, or ever will."
"You have nothing." Thanos hisses.
"… No." Loki replies. "I have… h-have a brother. I have a brother."
"He is no more your brother than I."
Loki's head shakes slow.
"He is my brother, and he l-loves me. He loves me Thanos, and that is more… more than you will ever have."
And for a moment, for a singular moment, there is a flash in the Titans eyes, of rage and hate and horror.
A flash of understanding.
And Loki smiles.
He smiles, because he knows, in that way, that one, small way, he has won.
And that small way is all that matters.
He is not alone.
He is not.
And he will die easily with this truth.
He will die, and that will be alright.
That will be alright.
Because he knows he is not alone, and that though he may have no home to return to now, he had once, and that place he defended with all he could, and all he knew how.
And that is all that matters.
And he has lived long enough, he thinks.
He has lived long enough.
And it will be alright…
He doesn't struggle, doesn't fight as Thanos takes hold of his face. Doesn't beg as he feels the pull on his magic, feels it being torn, ripped from his core.
Doesn't cower as the pain consumes and takes him, punching through him, paralyzing.
He is dying.
He will die here.
And it is alright.
He has lived long enough…
Long enough…
Long… enough…
Black begins to press in round the edges of his vision, and he feels so tired now…
So very tired…
Somewhere in the back of his consciousness, he is aware it is his body failing him, the loss of too much of his energy.
Somewhere, he is aware of it.
But all he wants suddenly is to close his eyes and rest…
He is so tired…
And he feels so heavy…
Everything so heavy and tired and fading…
Fading…
… Fading…
And then, suddenly, he thinks he sees a flash of white, so bright it is blinding, and instinctively his lids close against it, head twisting aside.
He barely registers the release of pressure around his jaw, or the way his body sags to the ground, crumpling in a still heap.
There is a rush of sound, filling his ears, so loud and raging, and he wants it to stop. To stop and go away.
Because everything is still so heavy and tired and wasted…
Until, finally, the thunderous noise begins to shape and form, and he thinks maybe the noise is voices.
That they are speaking…
Yelling…
Rage and fury and fire…
"Come to save your stolen bastard?" He hears.
And then…
"You are finished!"
And the second voice is so familiar.
So very, very familiar.
Like something he's known all his life.
And his eyes come open, only just, vision blurred and unfocused and thick with filmed tears.
He blinks, and blinks again, and again, and there are shapes before him, tall and broad and so, so strong.
And he blinks again.
And he sees…
And he smiles…
Oh, this is a nice dream.
This is a nice, kind dream.
To him the fates are perhaps not so cruel in his final breaths, if they would let him have this vision to look upon before he goes.
Odin…
All-Father…
… His Father…
It is such a nice, nice dream, Loki thinks.
His Father come for him.
Even if it isn't true.
The sight is enough.
And Loki sends his silent thanks to the fates for letting this be his last vision.
For letting this be the last thing he sees.
He thanks them silently…
And the last of his energy leaves him…
The world for him fades to nothing…
/
Thanos' power is great, Odin knows.
But without the Gauntlet, it is not enough, and the All-Father wastes no time in useless banter and idle threats.
He sees his boy, his son, there on the ground, unmoving, and absolute rage consumes him, nearly blinding in its intensity.
Dread tries working its way up through his chest, and he pushes it down.
He hasn't time for it now, as he turns his one eye on the Mad Titan, blazing with blue, glowing fury.
"Come to save your stolen bastard?" Thanos asks.
Odin sneers, wielding Gungnir.
"You are finished!" He rages.
And he says no more, gives the Titan no time to respond, thrusting his spear forward, all his great power directed through it.
And it is enough.
Even Thanos, the Mad Titan, cannot withstand the power of the All-Father.
King of the Nine Realms…
/
Thanos flees.
And Odin does not care.
He can find him later; deal with him then.
Now all that matters is Loki.
All that matters is his son.
His son…
Oh, by the Nine, what has he allowed to happen?
Odin goes to him, dropping to his knees beside him, hands reaching, hovering over Loki's still form.
And he feels his heart seize, frozen and sickened in his chest.
Sight clouded over by unbidden tears.
Loki is not breathing.
He's not breathing.
And when finally Odin lays hands on him, thick, strong fingers touching delicate to the boys face, brushing his hair aside and back, Loki's skin is so cold…
So freezing cold…
And the pale of him is fading, blue, marked and raised skin, spreading slow and stark, the glamour failing.
His magic failing…
His life…
Failing…
And Odin scoops him up, and holds the boy against him.
Loki is so small…
Seems so small…
So light and small…
Like so much shadow and dust and fanciful illusion…
Like the pretty and seemingly insubstantial castings he would conjure for the court, when he was truly but a child. When he would tell to them all tales of adventure and glory and joy, with his unmatched wit and silver quick tongue. And they all would laugh and clap and smile with delight at the beautiful illusions he gave with them.
Such beautiful things…
Parts of himself he would share for all of them.
Parts of who he was.
And none of them ever knew…
None of them ever understood…
Loki liesmith, they whisper behind his back…
And yet of himself he gave a truth none of them ever would of themselves.
Allowed them to see a part wholly of the soul…
And they never understood the beauty of it…
Of what they saw…
Never knew to grasp and hold it to them.
For none of them ever understood the fleeting nature of such beauty.
There one moment…
… And gone the next.
Odin presses Loki's limp and broken form to his chest, arms wrapping tight.
So cold…
So cold and small and light.
There one moment…
… Gone the next…
…
Odin weeps.