Memento Mori

Summary: Of the many people capable of carrying the fate of the universe on their shoulders by travelling back in time, Loki would have been the first choice of exactly nobody. With no allies, no plan and nobody on his side, Loki will just have to wing it.

Or: That awkward moment when you've completed your redemption arc, but nobody else got the memo.

Chapter 21

Loki was quiet as they made their way down the mountain. He hadn't offered to portal them, and Thor hadn't suggested it. Loki had muttered something about wanting to bring distance between them and the Stonekeeper, but Thor suspected he merely needed a moment to digest what had happened before joining up with the Guardians.

Thor allowed him the time, realizing how difficult for Loki it had been to see his secrets revealed against his will.

They reached the bottom of the mountain, and instead of pretending that nothing had happened and transporting them back, Loki kept walking.

Thor furrowed his brows. Loki needed time – he wanted to respect that and give him as long as he needed, but the Guardians were risking their lives in serving as a distraction for Thanos' troops. The longer they waited, the bigger the chance that the team would fail and be forced to fight.

"Loki," Thor started, slowing to a halt and forcing Loki to do the same. "Are you well?"

"Fine."

Thor's frown deepened. "Brother..."

Loki heaved a sigh as though keeping up a conversation with Thor was the most exhausting thing he'd ever done. "I'm well enough," he said, irritation in his voice. "Even if not, what would you propose to do about it?"

Perhaps he wanted to say more. He was interrupted by the sound of static, blaring out of the communicator they'd been given by Rocket. It cut off after a brief moment, only to start anew.

Loki and Thor shared a glance.

"Gamora?" Thor asked after activating the device. "Quill? Are you there?"

More static was his answer, interwoven with unintelligible, fragmented sentences and words. The voice, at least, sounded like Rocket.

"Rocket," Thor repeated, tapping the communicator. "Do you hear?"

" ... you are! ….. it's .… trying … reach you for ages!" Thor slapped the communicator so hard that its metal creaked, and Rocket's voice snapped into focus. "Where've you been?!"

"We are on Vormir still," Thor said, raising his voice so it would carry over the communicator. "Apologies. We have not received your message until now."

"Easy for you to say! You're not the one who's been running circles trying to reach you dumbasses for–"

"Rocket!" Gamora snapped. "Now's not the time!"

"What is it?" Thor asked.

"It's Thanos." Gamora's voice was as grim as her message suggested. "He's on his way."

"What do you mean, 'on his way'?" Loki asked, his voice sharp.

"He's mobilizing his fleet. I don't know how, but he knows." Gamora paused. "He's coming for you."

Thor lowered his brows in grim resignation. Loki and he had both known that this day would come. It had only been a matter of time until Thanos recognized them as a threat to his plans and took action to eliminate them.

"How quickly can you get to Midgard?" Thor asked into the com piece. "If it is too far, we can use Gungnir to–"

"What? Thor, he's not going to Terra!"

Thor threw a startled glance at Loki. "Where else would he go?"

The silence that followed was unnerving and heavy.

"Gamora," Thor said, speaking slowly to make his voice carry weight. "Where is Thanos going?"

Loki's breathing sounded heavily in Thor's ears. His own heart pounded in his chest.

"Asgard," Gamora admitted. "He's on his way to Asgard."

Loki let out a sharp breath at his side, and Thor knew that he hadn't misheard.

Loki should have never allowed it to come to this. Anxiety tingled in his chest with every breath, and Loki forced himself to breathe deeply, to push against the dread rising up by the second, threatening to drown him.

Midgard was no more than a footnote in Thanos' grand schemes. It had been Loki and Thor who'd made waves in their attempt to stop him – them, and not the Midgardians. Of course Thanos would be lured to Loki and Thor's home instead of theirs.

His people would end up paying the price, and it would be Loki's fault.

Loki transported them to the Guardians wordlessly. They did not protest when he made another portal to bring them all to Asgard – they merely sent him looks of grim determination.

"We need to prepare for battle," Thor said upon their arrival, gripping Mjolnir tightly in his hand. "I will inform mother and father. They will notify the troops and–"

"No," Loki said. "We need to evacuate."

Thor looked at him as though he'd suggested surrendering their fate altogether. "We have to fight."

"We have to make sure our people survive," Loki snapped.

"Our people are strong," Thor argued, his brows furrowed in a stubborn line. "Will you not give them at least the chance to defend themselves?"

"I will gladly give our warriors the chance to throw their lives away, should they feel the desire to do so. Everybody else goes." Loki bit off an even sharper comment. "If you still believe Thanos is the sort of foe to be beaten by our armies, you have not listened to a word I've been saying."

Thor paused, taking in his words at last. "How did they fare last time?"

Loki's lips curved in a cynical smile. "By the time Thanos had found us, there were no warriors left to stand against him. He rounded up those who remained, and those who survived only did so because he had no desire to kill more than one half."

Thor paled at his words. Good. If he had still taken Loki's words lightly, then they had clearly fallen on deaf ears.

"Did I miss something?" Rocket looked between the two incredulously. "Sure, makes sense you'd want to rescue your people. I get it. But how exactly are you planning to evacuate an entire planet?"

"Asgard is not a planet." Loki waved him off impatiently. "It is roughly the size of an asteroid. Given some time, I can send our people elsewhere through Gungnir."

"Okay," Rocket said, "I'm gonna pretend like you didn't just say your oh so glorious home is just a floating rock in space. How are you gonna convince them to leave?"

"Yeah," Quill agreed. "Didn't you steal that thing from your dad? Wouldn't they be kind of suspicious if you showed up and asked them to let you evacuate everyone?"

Loki furrowed his brows. Even the space stone wasn't capable of swallowing up the entirety of Asgard – at least it wasn't in Loki's hands. He couldn't repeat his feat with the Dark Elves and create a portal for each citizen without Heimdall's help. If he wanted to save their people, they would need to come willingly.

"We could attempt to talk to mother and father," Thor said, his brows furrowed in doubt of his own suggestion. "If they ordered an evacuation, Asgard would follow readily."

"We have no time to convince them of our trustworthiness." Not with Thanos on his way and distrust spilled between them like ink stains.

Thor's brows dipped further – deep lines of thoughtfulness and worry. "How will we persuade Asgard to follow if neither King nor Queen are there to support our claims?"

Loki paused. Perhaps, if they played their cards right, they wouldn't need to. "I have an idea," he said, and felt pleased when Thor's head perked up in interest rather than alarm.

Odin blamed his decision on the stress caused by his sons' disappearance. (He called it 'disappearance' towards others and to himself so he would not have to acknowledge it as what it was – treason.)

He blamed it on the stress and the pressure and his own, incorrigible nature: the desperate need to act by himself and to do good by his people.

Not a small part of him whispered that it had also stemmed from his need to have a decent, old-fashioned brawl. Odin was a warrior through and through, and his position did not allow for much action – he had soldiers for that, and a rigid, golden throne to call his own.

Odin received word of an intruder vandalizing the palace, and he threw himself at the task as though he was young and hot-blooded rather than the wise king he liked to pretend to be.

"Resume your duties," he commanded his guards, not wanting an audience. "I will not require assistance."

Arrogance, so it seemed, was another trait to add to his long, growing list of flaws. Ever since his family – Loki for the most part, but Frigga and Thor as well – had cast doubt over the choices he'd made, Odin seemed to discover them neatly wrapped into near everything he did.

It was one more reason for him to pretend – just for a few short, precious moments – that he was young, his foolishness justified and his actions not the product of a king weary of his crown.

When he found the intruder, he was busy destroying the statue of a long forgotten ancestor. Odin would not tolerate someone destroying their historic heritage – even one as ugly and worn-down as this one.

"If it is attention you seek," Odin said, "you have succeeded."

The intruder was not startled to see him. "Are you Odin, son of Bor?" he demanded in a voice so grating, it seemed to annoy even its owner.

"I am," Odin said. "Who asks?"

"My name does not matter." The intruder straightened up, intending to convey pride. Odin had trouble focusing on his features – the only thing of note about him was how utterly unremarkable he looked. "Only my intentions do."

"Your intentions? What are those?" Odin held his weapon in a way that looked casual but allowed him to draw it within seconds.

In moments few and far between, he did not miss Gungnir in the slightest. As grand a sign of power it was, every minorly decent sword was more practical in a fight.

The intruder puffed out his chest. "Why, nothing less than Asgard's fall!"

"One man's death is not enough to cause Asgard's fall."

The intruder gave him an odd smile. "We shall see."

He procured a weapon from somewhere – a flashy, huge battle scythe, one only seldom used in combat. It was difficult to use and frustrating to master. It had been a long time since Odin had had the privilege of fighting–

The scythe toppled to the ground with the first maneuver he tried. Metal clattered onto the marble floor, the noise echoing through the hallways.

The intruder grabbed for it, muttering something like "more difficult than it looks" under his breath.

Odin watched stoically as his skills worsened with each of his movements.

"Have you ever held a weapon before?" he asked, blocking a clumsy blow while his opponent struggled to keep his grip around the handle. Odin was tempted to give him some pointers for the sole purpose of making the battle more interesting.

"Of course I have!" The intruder dodged Odin's attack with more skill than Odin thought him capable of. "Just not... this one."

They were rather close to the weapons' vault. "Did you simply choose the most impressive looking weapon in the vault?"

The intruder hesitated.

Odin couldn't believe he'd decided to personally fight such a half-wit. He ought to have sent his guards and not granted him the honor of being defeated by the Allfather himself.

At least it was more entertaining than the scheduled council meeting.

Odin sensed Frigga's presence before he heard her voice.

"I came to offer help," rang her voice from the other end of the hallway, "but I can see that it is not needed." There was amusement in her voice, and Odin took the time to throw her a look.

"You should not have come." The intruder didn't attempt to strike him during his distraction. Unbelievable. "It might be his plan to lure us both away. His accomplices might swarm the palace as we speak."

It was Odin's last attempt to make sense of his otherwise painfully incompetent plan. Surely, one could not hope to stand up to the Allfather without some sort of higher, thought-out strategy. Right?

"The palace is safe," Frigga said, stepping forward at Odin's side. "Nobody has entered who is not allowed to be here. I've made sure."

Or perhaps they were truly being attacked by a fool believing himself capable of toppling Asgard all on his own.

"You were entertaining," Odin said, "but you've overstayed your welcome."

He aimed his sword and surged forward to end it.

His weapon caught on the hilt of the scythe. Odin grunted, the impact sending tingles through his body.

The intruder held him at bay, muscles straining under the effort. "A shame," he said, lips twitching. "It had just begun to be enjoyable."

Beside him, Frigga hummed. Odin felt a surge of energy tingle on his skin. Magic.

"Perhaps my coming hasn't been for nothing after all," Frigga mused, and the energy surrounding her swelled.

It had been a long time since he'd had the privilege of fighting side by side with his wife. Spellwork flared in elaborate patterns, painting illusions and complementing Odin's attacks, forcing the intruder into a dodging maneuver too skilled for the bumbling fool Odin had fought up until this point.

Circumstances be damned, Odin had missed this. His regency did not leave room for much else, and despite the lack of practice, Frigga and he worked together as well as they had centuries ago.

"Have you managed to set eyes on him?" Frigga murmured, conjuring images of herself.

Odin hummed, detecting the question for what it was. "A glamour?" he suggested, thinking of the way his eyes seemed to slide right off of the intruder when he attempted to closer inspect his features.

"An advanced one," Frigga agreed.

The elaborate spell was irritating as much as it was puzzling. The stranger had not used any other magic during the battle.

By now they'd been lured deep into the dungeons.

Odin halted in his tracks as soon as the realization struck. "If you are truly here to challenge me, stand your ground and fight." He would not stand for the undignified chase he'd allowed himself to be tricked into. Not any longer.

The stranger paused, seemingly weighing his options. His head snapped around, his eyes locking with Frigga's before she managed to complete the trap she weaved with her magic.

"Clever." He grinned, hurled the scythe towards them and turned on his heel.

Odin and Frigga dodged (rather pointlessly, seeing as the stranger had aimed with its hilt rather than its blade) and the intruder sprinted down the hallway with a speed almost unthinkable for the opponent they'd fought seconds ago.

Foreboding rose in Odin's chest, and rather than take up the pursuit, he headed towards the palace exit.

"Should I follow him?" Frigga asked, magic crackling with the urge to do exactly that.

"He wants us to," Odin declined, and Frigga fell into step beside him. "We will not play into his hands further." Not any more than they already had, allowing themselves to be distracted for as long as they did.

The silence between them did not hold long.

"He knew his way around the dungeons well," Frigga pointed out.

"So he did." Odin was silent for several strides. "The weapon he wielded. Thor was ever so fond of them as a child."

They'd had to talk him out of picking a scythe as his weapon of choice on several occasions. Only a mishap in the weapons vault that ended with a visit to the healers and a sulky – but chastened – Thor had managed to put a stop to that particular whim.

"He was," Frigga agreed.

A voice that didn't fit its owner and features that were impossible to focus on. His son, fled out of mysterious reasons and currently on the run with his brother. His brother, whose prowess with illusions and glamours was second to only Frigga herself.

Odin should have resisted the urge to leave his throne.

"Come," he muttered, hastening his steps further. "Let us see whether our city still stands."

In retrospect, Thor had always hated the statue now lying in pieces in the dungeons.

Finding the palace empty was puzzling but not yet worrying. It was not swarming with enemies like on the day the Dark Elves had attacked, nor did it sport any form of damage.

Odin kept going, intent to investigate.

He did not expect to find people hurrying past the palace in groups, shepherded by soldiers. The people looked hectic, anxious or grim, but not fallen to panic in the way they might have during an attack.

Frigga stiffened at the sight of the crowd but said nothing.

"What is the meaning of this?" Odin asked, stepping up to the nearest guard.

The soldier startled, then straightened up to give his report. "We have finished coordinating the evacuation of the main city. Citizens of the outskirts are currently being notified. We expect to finish within midday."

Odin stared at the guard blankly. "The evacuation," he repeated when the words refused to make sense to him.

"Yes, my king." Odin kept staring, and the guard stuttered, "A-Asgard's evacuation."

"Who ordered it?"

Sweat began to collect on the guard's brow, and he looked as baffled as Odin felt. "B-But. Y-You did, my king."

Odin closed his eyes. He turned away, ignoring the words being called after him. "Y-Your majesty! Should we abandon the evacuation efforts?"

Odin steered towards the city, joining the steady stream of Asgardians. It took no genius to put the pieces together. An intruder in the dungeons, sporting too many similarities to their firstborn. An imposter in the city, wielding shapeshifting abilities and pulling havoc in his wake.

"Did you know of this?" he muttered, refusing to turn his head to Frigga.

"I did not."

Odin recognized the truthfulness in her words. "Are you intending to put a stop to it?"

Frigga paused. "It entirely depends on what 'Odin' has to say."

Odin let out a mixture of a huff and a snort. His day had already taken a turn for the bizarre.

Only weeks prior, it would have sent him into a rage.

Odin caught sight of the portals first, and the imposter second. Other-Odin was leading the Asgardians through, sending them who-knew-where with Gungnir standing proudly at his side.

Odin did not know what ought to be angering him more: his own refusal to make Gungnir's theft known coming back to haunt him, or the fact that Loki knew him well enough to have predicted it.

"M-My king!" The young woman who'd been next in line stopped inches in front of the portal. She gaped at Odin, then at Other-Odin and back again. "B-But– What–"

Other-Odin gave her a shove and she plunged through with a yelp. The portal closed up right behind her.

If Odin hadn't been certain of the imposter's identity before, he certainly was now. Loki realized the same and dispelled his disguise – causing gasps and whispers to break out among the crowd.

"Father," Loki greeted, his expression blank and his voice tense. "Mother."

For once in his long, eventful life, Odin did not know what to say.

"Father!" Thor came running through the crowd breathlessly, missing his ridiculous glamour. His eyes were wide, his muscles tense as though uncertain whether to run or fight.

Heimdall followed in his wake, and Odin knew that with even Heimdall on his children's side, the issue would not be solved with an extended visit to the dungeons this time. The temptation to try had never been bigger.

"I trust you have an explanation for..." Odin trailed off, uncertain what words to use to describe the mass exodus they had unleashed upon their people. His pause spoke for itself, and the whispers from the crowd grew.

"Father, please." Thor looked at him, half-pained and half-pleading. "Asgard is in grave danger."

Odin's gaze lingered on his son. Without turning to look, he said, "Even you, Heimdall?"

Not a shred of guilt was apparent on Heimdall's face. "I merely followed my king's orders," he answered smoothly. "Or who I believed to be him."

Odin did not believe for an instance that Loki's illusions had managed to fool Heimdall. He felt Frigga's gaze drilling into him from the side, and their conversation sprang to mind: the ultimatum she had given him, to decide whether he wanted to trust in his children or not.

Both of them believed that what they were doing was right. Whatever Heimdall had seen had led him to believe the same. Frigga had wanted to put her trust into both of them from the start.

The list of Odin's flaws grew, and arrogance was at the very top of it. Was it anything other than arrogance to believe himself to know better, even when those closest to him disagreed?

"M-My king." One of the guards stepped forward, clutching her weapon and throwing tentative glances towards the no-longer-disguised princes. "What are your orders?"

"You know my stance," Frigga murmured at his side as though he needed the reminder.

Loki and Thor both looked at him, sporting different shades of apprehension. Loki's expression was grim, almost as though he'd resigned himself to yet another quarrel.

"What are you waiting for?" Odin called, raising his voice to reach the crowd and surprising himself more than anyone. "I believe an evacuation has been ordered."

Loki's baffled expression made it worth it almost all on its own.

Frigga reached out to take his hand and squeezed – likely the most affectionate she'd been ever since they'd been subjected to the stress of seeing their children on the run.

Odin did not allow himself to acknowledge the gesture. Asgard was watching, and if Loki and Thor were to be believed, danger was on its way.

"Thor," he said, keeping all judgement and emotion out of his voice. "Take Gungnir. Continue what your brother has started. Loki." He paused. "With me."

He'd already turned on his heel – intent to get answers out of his son in the privacy of the palace – but changed his mind. He took his sword and offered its handle to Frigga, leaving himself unarmed. The gesture was symbolic more than anything, but it made Loki set his brows in a line and nod.

"Lead the way," he said, and he shared a last look with his brother before falling into step with Odin.

Odin would get his answers while Asgard evacuated from the yet unknown threat. He merely hoped he would not regret his decision by the time he'd finished talking to Loki.

Big thanks to To Mockingbird, PyrothTenka and Igornerd!