I know the stones are the wrong colours. Can't be changed without a full-story edit.
Trigger: discussions of death that verge into suicide territory
Tony didn't recall how he got back to the tower.
He didn't remember what happened with the suit, or how he ended up on the living room sofa. Tears had passed; he was completely numb to whatever was going on around him. Jarvis was quietly filling in the group as they arrived back one-by-one, making the choice to tell people in person. The last thing they needed was another injury or fatality because someone was too distracted by the news out in the field.
One of the tiles making up the patterned floor was slightly off. Tony stared at it, trying to mentally line up the edges of the ceramic, anything to occupy his mind rather than letting it dwell on what had just happened. Someone was talking. Some distant part of his brain acknowledged that his name was involved, but the overwhelming white noise filling the rest of his mind over-ruled it. The tiles didn't line up, and that was annoying.
"Tony…"
There were hands on his knees, someone crouched in front of him. He blinked and of all people it was Merlin. It took a long moment for his brain to catch up on what the hell the warlock was doing there. But of course, Merlin and Loki had been keeping magical tabs on each other – the young man must have felt what had happened.
He tried to say something, although he didn't know what and it was probably for the best that no sound came out. In the end all he could manage was shaking his head. Merlin's expression crumpled, as if he had been holding out for Stark to inform him of a mistake. Or a miracle.
The two could hardly say they knew each other well, or were that close, but in the moment they were unified. Merlin was over two thousand years old, but grief is universal across ages and species. Tony pulled the sorcerer into a tight hug and they clung to each other, Merlin sobbing hoarsely.
It was the scream that told Tony his eldest daughter had made it home. The horrified broken scream, echoed by a large peal of thunder directly over the Tower. Jarvis must have told Evie and Thor what had happened. Merlin seemed to take that as his cue to let Stark have some personal space back and the man was able to see his daughter over by the balcony doors
Evie still had Thor's cape draped around her shoulders, her wet hair plastered to her head. Given the circumstances it hardly mattered and Steve had pulled her into a tight hug. Any injuries were obscured, but couldn't be immediately concerning if The Captain was prioritising mental-wellbeing. Thor had disappeared back outside and the sky had turned dark as night with storm clouds.
Tony felt the pieces of the Ironman suit around him suddenly loosen and begin to fall away from his body. It took a long moment to realise that Jarvis must have activated the release. Well-meaning hands silently removed the pieces from around him. A blanket replaced the metal, the silver material rustling as it was tucked around him.
"Where's...?" His voice was a croak and he couldn't finish the sentence regardless. The words the body just didn't seem real enough to say yet, but Loki's name was also far too painful. Thankfully Bruce seemed to understand what he was trying say, and crouched down as Merlin had, taking Tony's cold hands.
"Jarvis brought him back. He's downstairs at the moment."
He didn't want to ask where.
"Tony...the twins know you're back. What do you want us to do?"
Gods he hadn't even thought about that aspect yet! Trying to break the news to the two five year olds.
"I can speak with them." Well meaning as ever, Jarvis turned to leave the room, only for Merlin to catch hold of his arm. "Yes?"
"It must be Stark."
"But-"
The Warlock seemed to be succeeding in pulling himself together a little. "Take this as a human thing, it has to be Stark." He didn't know the droid well, but managed to correctly interpret Jarvis' long pause as confusion. "Those kids are five years old. They don't understand death yet, but they are going to remember this moment for the rest of their lives. When they are older they are going to want to be able to remember that their Father was the one who broke the news."
"And that will make it easier?"
"No. Nothing makes this easier. But Tony will regret it, and they will always question it if he isn't the one."
Jarvis still didn't understand, but took it at face value that Merlin would know more about the very fragile interactions of grief. He wondered if this meant he had made a mistake in telling Evie and Thor as well, or if age made a difference and it didn't matter so much because Evie was so much older.
The one thing he could know for certain was that Merlin was right: nothing was going to make this easier.
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Sleep didn't come easily to anyone that night. Even though not everyone was as emotionally affected as the nuclear family the grief resounding through the tower was impacting everyone. In certain cases, it was also opening up the barely-healed wounds left by Clint and Pepper's deaths.
Tony didn't sleep at all, but rather sat on the sofa in Hope's chilly room, both twins cuddled up against him. It was eerily reminiscent of Evie when Loki had been taken by the Chitauri all those years ago. Evie herself had requested to be left alone.
Although requested was the polite way of putting how the young woman had stated that she needed space. Jarvis was keeping an eye on her and in true Stark fashion she had holed up in Tony's labs, painstakingly fixing the shredded wingsuit.
Anything but concentrating on what had happened.
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The huge paw on Loki's chest suddenly receded, allowing him to roll onto his side and cough in a few lungful's of air.
He stared up at Fenrir - huge, easily larger than Sleipnir - who was now limping backward on three legs
"What the fuck?!" The voice was far deeper than he remembered, a definite snarl.
"Well that explains a lot."
He twisted his head and stared at his own out-flung arm, deep blue skin throwing frost out across the ground. He tried to concentrate, to bring his more familiar skin back. However, the end of a staff – the aged wood as solid as iron – was slammed through his palm, the shocking pain over-riding the necessary concentration.
"No, you can stay just like that, Jötunn."
It was the tone of voice he had heard directed towards the species his whole life and it was all the more haunting to hear it from his estranged daughter. The staff had gone fully through his hand and into the sandy ground below, effectively pinning him there.
Hel…Fenrir… Their names stuck to his tongue as his brain frantically tried to catch up and make sense of the situation. He'd been on a street in New York, trying to save someone, what by the Norns had happened?!
He didn't have the opportunity to make the logical connection when Fenrir swatted at him again with a huge paw. He was thrown over onto his back, his hand still pinned by the base of Hel's staff. There was a flash of teeth and then –
There was a dark ceiling hanging over him.
Loki blinked up at it in muzzy confusion, trying to work out what the hell had just happened. Something at the back of his mind was desperately trying to get his attention; trying to alert to pain? Danger? Where was the New York street? Or rather; where was he?
The question went unanswered as claws slashed out of the darkness, there was a sudden bloom of pain and –
There was coarse grit under him as he lay face down. Not tarmac. Grit. That wasn't…right. He was on the street, there were Orks, a woman, he had to save her –
On his back again, his brain trying to catch up. The sense of deja vous as confusion reigned supreme and he felt certain that this had just happened –
On his side –
Back –
Face down, trying to push himself up on his elbows –
Time didn't exactly obey usual rules, wherever he was, but he suspected that a considerable amount of non-time had passed by the point that his brain caught up with current events and he realised both what had happened and what was happening.
Finally he opened his eyes and when there wasn't another attack managed to sit up.
"Are you two quite done?!"
"For now. Fenrir needed to get that out of his system." Hel said it as if repeated patricide was a healthy coping mechanism. She was sat a few feet away, cross-legged on the dark sand.
Loki looked around, now in a better position to take in his surroundings and put the pieces together to realise what had happened. "…I can only assume that things didn't go so well for me in the last battle."
"Even you could not withstand a direct headshot." Hel smirked at him, and not in a particularly nice way. "Your husband wasn't very happy about the situation, I must say. Quite put out about it really."
"Tony was there...?" The thought that Stark had seen him die made his blood freeze.
"He tried to shoot me." Hel's flippant response went straight over his head.
He was dead. It wasn't like he hadn't faced the thought of this before, even hoped for it once or twice, but now that it had happened it didn't seem real. Despite everything going wrong with the universe he had finally managed to find peace within himself and now it was gone.
"Did you know?!"
The question was snapped at him, coiling like a whip in the air.
"Know? Know what?" He could hardly process the question, far too many other thoughts of his children and husband crowding out his head.
Hel gestured at him, drawing his attention back down to his hands. They were a deep navy in the dark hall. He was sat in the centre of a ring of ice.
"You never said a word of this to us!"
"Oh that….No. No I didn't know. Odin told me of it only in recent years." Getting on for three decades, but near enough. "It was quite a shock."
"Finding out you were a monster? I cannot imagine it was that surprising."
"The Jötnar are not monsters."
"Not what you told us as children. Not what you have demonstrated over the years."
And there it was; the not so subtle nod towards the real anger his older children held towards him. It was too much for Loki to try to process given the context of the situation.
"Take a moment, you look like you need it." It was a disdainful sneer and Hel rose fluidly to her feet.
The Trickster didn't watch her go, too focussed on his new circumstances. There was just too much to process. Death was such an immense concept, especially when it is ones own. Whilst he had always had a vague belief in something else after life, he had never given it much thought beyond existing. The grief of the living was well known but the grief of the newly dead was an unexplored well of emotion.
The twins were so young. And Evie, just coming into her own and flourishing as a young adult. Merlin and all of the missed chances that the two of them had squandered.
Tony.
The stupid, arrogant, fragile little mortal who had found a way to cross the universe for him. Who had stood by him despite everything he was and everything he had done.
Ice slid down his cheeks in place of tears and with a brusque gesture he brought up the glamour that had been destroyed with his death. No longer Odin's magic but his own. At least magic still worked in the strange and terrible world.
"I expected you to be more angry." Hel obviously couldn't leave well enough alone for very long.
"Why would I be angry?" He couldn't muster up any more emotion than grief. It was far too early to be worrying about any other feeling.
"Your human begged, you know. He thought that he could persuade me to spare you, and when that didn't work he tried to threaten, and then he pleaded." If she was trying to get a rise out of him it wasn't working. "He didn't take my refusal too kindly."
"Tony Stark doesn't like being told no." Loki had to do his very best not to flinch when a sudden huff of breath messed his hair and Fenrir was suddenly right there behind him, huge muzzle just coming into his peripheral vision. For such a huge beast the wolf moved like a shadow.
"Is this what it looks like when you care, then?" The words were bitter, the hot breath across his ear a quiet threat of what the oh-so-close teeth could do. Each fang was easily as long as his forearm. "Because we wouldn't know."
Back to that again. Whilst Loki's world had been turned inside out, his children had been waiting for this confrontation for millennia. They obviously weren't intending to really let him take the time to sort his own mind out before they went in for the kill.
"Say what you want to say and lets be done with this." He said quietly.
"Do you think it is that easy?"
"I don't know. I'm dealing with quite a lot right now." This was hardly the right time for such a contentious issue to be raised, and he only had so much brain-space to spare with the enormity of his current circumstances still sinking in.
"We do not care. You owe us answers, Father!" Hel snapped.
Did he? Frankly he was pretty certain he didn't owe them a damn thing given how things had turned out. And even now did he actually know himself what had happened? It was so long ago now, and the whole event was so mired in emotion that it was hard to pull the facts out.
He had been on Earth. That was a known fact. Hadn't spoken with his family for near twenty years and hadn't assumed he would do so any time soon. Receiving a cry for help from Angrbođa was the last thing he had expected – a plea of desperation sent across the realms to find him. She was the last person he had thought to hear from given they had parted with a fight, and her pride – as great as his own – made it a very unlikely thing for her to do.
So he had answered Arrived at her home to find the mother of his children already dead and the fire raging. Fenrir slumped unconscious in the doorway, his fur alight. Hel further inside, bleeding, burned and broken. Jormungandr pinned under fallen timber, skewered through. And then two of those three had chosen to blame him for it.
Not just not arriving in time – he could have understood those emotions – but rather actually initiating the attack itself. In those moments of waking, safe in the sanctuary he had brought them to, they had lashed out at him and run.
"What do you think happened?" It seemed the safest way to broach the whole mess. He knew the past, he had no idea of their present. Well, evidently they were still angry, but wanting to talk was an improvement.
As it was, his question caused Hel to shoot her brother a sharp look. The wolf shrugged his immense shoulders.
"You and our mother fought. Badly. We did not see you for nearly twenty years. When you next turned up mother was killed and all three of us nearly died. We haven't seen our brother since."
"And you still think I did that?"
The pause before the response was telling
"We do not know, anymore." Hel said finally. "We...we went back there. As soon as we were able to. There had been a war going on between two neighbouring tribes of Fire Giants. Our home had happened to be in the middle of it."
"Your mother would have played both sides."
"You cannot know that!"
Loki smiled wryly. "She and I were so similar in many ways. She would have aligned to both sides to hedge her bets." He watched his daughter frown thoughtfully
"So if there had been a call to arms from both sides..."
"They'd have assumed she betrayed them."
"That is too simplistic. Too obvious! Where were you?!" The unspoken assumption that Loki must have been with the fire giants from the start was loud in the air.
"I was on Earth, your mother called to me for help"
Fenrir snorted, and a wolf his size can really snort. "She would never request help from anyone! You least of all."
"Not unless she knew she was dying." Loki gestured out at the expanse of the hall. "But can you not ask her yourself?"
A look was exchanged between the siblings. "Not all who have passed are here. Mother included." Hel's cold answer made it clear that the reasons for that weren't up for discussion.
"Then you are going to have to take my word for it."
"The word of a trickster."
"Am I able to lie to you? Here? In this place?"
"You can always lie, it is what you do!"
Loki didn't have a retort to that accurate statement. However, actions speak louder than words and what he couldn't explain might be easier to show. He performed a fluid little gesture and the air in front of him shimmered to form a small floating image of a new-born baby.
"A child. And?"
His children had apparently also inherited his impatience. He let the picture change, the baby becoming a toddler then growing through the years to teenage-hood and finally young adult.
"What by the Norns is this meant to be?" Fenrir snapped his question, but Hel shushed him with a raised hand. Her eyes were narrowed as she scrutinised the image of Merlin.
"He is your son. Our half-brother?"
"Your full brother. When your mother and I last fought she was arguing for me to stay. When I refused she threw one last spell. It took me a while to realise what she had done, but the result was your brother."
Fenrir prowled around the image; teeth bared as he inspected it. "That would count as assault these days, I am certain."
"I wasn't very happy then either, but whatever you think of me I do try to do right by my children. I went to Earth where I wouldn't be disturbed to raise him." He left it there.
"So that is where you were? Raising this..."
"Merlin."
"Raising this Merlin?"
There was jealousy there – that this random little brother had had their father's undivided attention which they had always craved and never achieved. Fenrir was looking between the image and his sister, evidently seeing the family resemblance. Hel glared at him and he shrugged his immense shoulders.
"Why by the Norns did you come back for us?" The wolf rumbled, his dark gaze turning to Loki again. "Say we believe that you were not involved in the attack, why would you come back for us? You had everything right there on Earth, you had your child. Why come back if you needn't?"
It was a question that shouldn't have needed an answer
"Because you're my children and I love you. Because your mother would rather die than ask me for help, but she would never rather you die. I knew if she asked for aid then you were the ones she wanted to save."
Fenrir grunted and turned his back on the Trickster, staring at the image of Merlin again. "You did not save her, though."
"She was dead when I arrived." For the briefest moment Loki could smell the smoke, see the blood across the snow. "I tried to save her...it was too late." He looked up, shaken from the memory as Hel rose to her feet and stalked a few paces away, agitated.
"These are all just words." Her dress swirled around her in an unfelt storm. "You just spin these words, all the time, there is no substance to anything you say!"
There wasn't much Loki could really say to that. She wasn't wrong; he was known for turning bullshit into an art-form, it was hardly surprising it was difficult to believe him at times. All things considered, that they had managed to advance from believing he had actively tried to kill them to grudgingly accepting that his timing had let them down was more than could have been expected really.
"Why did you not just stay?! You could have stayed, and none of this would have happened!"
"I..." She had a point. "I should have stayed. And I intended to go back. Once Merlin was an adult and didn't need me, I was going to return." It needed more than that and he knew it. "I am sorry. Truly. For not being there enough, and for not being there when you needed me. I let you down as a parent, and it has had lasting consequences for you."
Hel opened her mouth, then closed it again with a grim expression.
"That was...appreciated." The snarl had left Fenrir's voice. "An apology was the last thing we ever expected to get from you.
"An apology does not solve a thing." His sister hissed.
"It can be the start." The huge wolf padded back over to where Loki was still sat and flopped down onto the ground beside him, raising a monumental cloud of sand. "Apologising, talking. It can be a start."
Hel looked at the two of them. "We are a broken excuse for a family. Talking will not sort that."
"It is a start." Her brother repeated. "You and I have discussed this long enough. We never saw reconciliation being possible and now it is. It is worth trying."
The woman didn't look convinced.
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Tony couldn't remember the funeral.
In an abstract way he knew it had happened but could not have given any details. Thor and Evie had put the funeral together after it was clear Stark wasn't able to contribute.
He'd spent most of his time with the twins; doing his damnedest to hold together whilst the two small children tried to work their way through the emotional confusion of what their world had become. Five year olds struggle with the concept of death, and they still weren't really getting it.
They had sent a message back to Asgard through the Bifrost, but no one had been able to come through. Any movement between realms was likely to arouse suspicion from Thanos and set his sights back on the home of the Gods so the funeral had only been attended by those already on Earth. It was an added emotional hit that Sleipnir wasn't able to attend his mother's funeral.
Tony didn't think he was doing the whole parenting thing very well at the moment either. With all his time spent on trying to support the twins Evie was distancing herself from everyone. She would get up, go to the gym, then lock herself and Arthur in the labs all day. According to Jarvis she wasn't actually doing much work. More, she was using the familiar space as somewhere to mourn in private.
The attacks were still ongoing, but had lost their fear for the immediate family members. When 'what's the worst that could happen?' had been answered you realise you stop worrying about it. The worst had happened, and soon enough it would happen again. It had happened with Pepper, it had happened with Clint, and now it had happened to Loki. It was only a matter of time before it happened again.
The roulette wheel of fate spinning red hot on its axel.
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"This realm is...quite different from what I imagined." It wasn't a word of a lie either. Outside of Hel's hall it was a bright summer's day and they stood knee deep in vibrant grass and wild flowers. Loki was absently pulling the seed heads from the stalks as he stared out at the fields.
There were residences dotted as far as the eye could see, and from nearly every culture and era that humanity could boast. There was a lack of British 1960's concrete jungle, but that was likely down to taste; there was only so much Hel was prepared to tolerate and bad council housing didn't make the cut.
"How did you accomplish this?"
"It required a little effort in the beginning, but once the souls were here it has very much run itself." Flowers were winding their way through Hel's dark hair out in the sunshine. Her pride in the realm was evident. "I greet those new here, judgement is proclaimed and life goes on. Metaphorically speaking."
Loki had to smile at his daughter's accomplishment. "I don't believe I have ever told you that I am proud of you, have I?"
Finally, finally, he managed to say something which shook her carefully crafted mask and there was a fleeting look of shock across her face. "No. No you have not."
"Well, I am. I always knew you were powerful, but this is something more. This is wisdom, and kindness, and those are far more important for a ruler than power alone. And I'm proud of you; for what you've done here, but also what you've done for yourself."
Had he said something like that to Evie there would have been tears and most likely a hug but he and his eldest daughter had never had that sort of relationship, especially after so many years of animosity. Instead Hel nodded, ever so slightly, then inclined her head back towards the hall they had just left.
"Come, I need to show you something." She sounded like she had come to a decision about something.
Loki didn't question the need to be back inside away from prying eyes; all of his offspring had inherited his flair for the over-dramatic and theatrical, it was apparently a very dominant trait. Fenrir slunk out of the darkness to greet them, and seemed to know what was on his sister's mind. Slunk, lurked, crept, he had yet to display a movement that Loki didn't automatically attach a spooky verb to.
"It would be disingenuous for me to say that I built this realm entirely without help." Hel said. "And I believe this may also answer a question that has been plaguing you for some time." She twisted her hand and a bright green glow began to seep out from her closed fist. Loki recognised the gesture as the same that he used to pull an object out of space. However, he was more concerned with the object that had appeared.
Hel opened her hand to reveal a walnut-sized stone that glowed like the Northern Lights. She was able to hold it just long enough for Loki to get a good look before the power forced her to banish the thing away.
It could have been a moment for awe and surprise, but with the trickster flippancy would always come first.
"Well. I wondered where that one was. I was beginning to think Earth had it after all!"
"No. It has been here." Hel's scarred palm was reddened from the simple act of holding it more than a second or so.
"And you...what? Found it? Went looking for it?"
"Hardly. When Fenrir and I ran, we ran blindly for as far and for as long as we could. We did not want to be found by anyone. We found the spaces between the voids and disappeared through them."
Having chosen the void once himself, letting go of Gungnir and simply allowing himself to fall, Loki understood that sentiment all too well. Something must have shown on his face since Hel recognised the solidarity there and continued with a little more certainty.
"We ran and we found here. It was an empty realm of nothingness. No life, no features, completely empty – it was a blank canvas. Somewhere that could be ours and we could hide from the universe." Hel cast a fond look around them. "Of course we had no idea there was an Infinity Stone here at the time."
"What happened?"
"There was a spot here where everything seemed…concentrated? We knew there was something unusual there and that was likely the reason for this realm being so different." Hel shrugged. "We probably should have left it alone, but there is too much of you in us for that. It was only after we uncovered the Stone that souls started arriving here. It seems to attract them and hold them. Fenrir and I can leave – because we are alive and not souls I assume – but the dead cannot leave."
"Just Midgard?"
"My realm is a realm of fractals. There is a Helheim for Earth, for Asgard, for Jötunheim, all of them. You died on Midgard, so you are here."
Loki could see the holes in that, but didn't think that line of enquiry would help.
"And you are saying I can't leave. You can, I cant."
"You are dead, Father. You cannot leave the realm of the dead." Hel saw his thoughtful frown and sighed. "You are not the first to ask, or try. And it is not through my keeping you here. I cannot control the Soul Stone; I rather think it has a mind in it's own right. I cannot use it to free anyone."
That would rather put a dent in his grand plans to bust out then, but he'd think about it. There was always a way.
"Those with magic have the ability to move freely through this realm." Hel made it sound conciliatory, as if it were some great favour. "But not out of it."
"And your mother? You said she isn't here?"
"No, I found the stone after she died. I do not know where souls went before the stone started drawing them here."
He couldn't say he particularly wanted to see his ex again after all these years, but there was a pang of sadness for his children's sakes.
"Why are you so intent on leaving? Your family will be here soon enough."
That was quite true. Normally the thought of his family dying was too painful to contemplate. However, from this side of the equation it could be seen as a blessing; all together again...
Loki shook his head wearily. "No. It won't work. Thanos is never going to stop until he has the Stones."
"Thanos will not find us-"
"You have no idea of what he is and is not capable of!" He gestured out at the halls. "You've seen for yourself; he's destroyed whole realms, killed billions. Others have found this realm before, and that was without the Infinity Stones that Thanos has at his disposal."
Hel's brow furrowed and Loki suspected that she hadn't taken those powers into account.
"He is coming. You can tell me the rest of my family is going to be here soon. You can tell me we will all be together again, but that is a fairytale. As soon as Thanos is done with Earth he'll be looking for this place."
"He cannot destroy death."
"You hold an Infinity Stone; he will destroy you." The trickster watched the emotions play over his daughter's face. "Bravado doesn't work against him. Strength, bravery, fortitude, they don't matter."
"You say that as if-"
"As if he tortured information out of me in the past. Yes."
It was good that he wasn't expecting a reaction to that since Hel didn't grace him with one.
"Well, I do not know what you hope to do about it. You cannot leave. And they cannot defeat Thanos. We will just have to come up with a plan after Earth falls." She said it so casually, waving her scarred hand in the air. "We have time."
"No we don't. My family is on Earth-"
"Part of it is. For now."
"You have two brothers on Earth! One half brother and two half-sisters, don't you care?"
"Caring will not help them." And then her expression softened. "Father, I know you do not want to hear this but there is nothing we can do. We do not have the means to help anyone."
"But-"
"There is nothing we can do."
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Youtube video 569: ….Hell I don't even know what to call this, guys.
So. Oh fuck I don't even know what I'm saying here.
So it's been a few…it's been a few days. I'm sorry about that. We…uh…we've lost some friends since my last video. I've had confirmation that Ben and Atefeh didn't make it out of the New York attack a few days again. I still can't get news about Amina, so I don't know if…if they're okay or not.
Uh…there's…yeah. So.
I also lost my mum.
I know there was a lot of speculation that Pepper Potts was my bio-mum and no-ones ever really believed me when I've said that she wasn't. But she wasn't. I…I loved Pepper so much, but-but she wasn't my mum. And now I-I've lost her and my mum.
It looks like-like things are coming close to-to the end. I…I don't know what's going to happen. We can't stop this now. The Avengers can't st-stop this. Fighting to the death sounds re-really good in theory, but when y-you're facing it….shit doesn't seem so noble. Just messy.
I don't know what to tell you guys. I…I'm probably not gonna make any more of these blogs. Don't think there's…there's going to be time frankly. I want to-to say thankyou to everyone who's watched and co-commented. It's been a-amazing getting to know you all.
The best advice I can…I can give is to get low. Hide if you can. If you want. I can't-can't promise it will help for long. But staying away from pop…populated areas and staying low. It will help for a while.
I love you guys. Good luck, and see you on the other side.
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"Father...?" The voice was quiet, a tremor of fear underlying it. The shock of it pulled Loki out of his gloomy contemplation, turning to face the speaker before his brain could actually catch up and process what he was hearing.
The young man that stood before him looked terrified. Long dark hair hung heavy across his face, so that he viewed the world from behind a protective curtain. A pair of brown eyes were just about visible. There was an air of coiled energy about him, like a hare about to spring away at any moment. That was new: Loki had always seen him more as a raptor prepared to strike. Stalking, predator-like energy had become nervous.
"Vali..." The name was a whisper.
"Father, I'm so sorry..." The young man was tightly hugging his arms around his waist, hands twisting into the fabric of his shirt. The words trembled, just on the edge of tears, but trying to hold it together enough to speak. "I...I never meant to..."
Loki wouldn't have said he was naturally a good parent, but in that moment he could suddenly so clearly see himself and Odin, and knew exactly what sort of response he would have so desperately needed and never ever got.
"I didn't…didn't mean to…"
"Vali." He turned so that they were facing each other, causing the young man to take half a step back, then held out a hand. Vali looked at it like it was venomous.
"I'm sorry…." The youngster stumbled back a further few steps as his father stood up. He didn't seem able to run, as much as he evidently wanted to.
"I know. So am I. It wasn't your fault and I understand why it happened."
How to explain the absolute mess Odin's secret had caused them. How Jötunn genetics had struggled against Aesir genetics. Jötunn magic unable to work alongside the Aesir magic also flowing through Vali's veins. The way two worlds had collided within one young body and torn him apart, sanity first.
With the words for the story failing him Loki chose actions instead and his out-stretched hand ran with blue. He saw his son's eyes widen, a myriad of emotions chasing across Vali's face as his true Jötunn skin settled into place.
"...you didn't know." The young man whispered.
"No. I only found out in the last few decades."
Vali was smart. All of Loki's brains with a helping handful of Sygun's too. Loki could physically see the thought processes of what this meant, what the implications where, and then pieces of the puzzle slamming into place as the original tragedy was seen in a whole new light.
The broken shards of Jötunn and Aesir magic had shredded his mind from the inside out. Reality had been stolen away, leaving him unable to tell friend from foe, seeing monsters and threats surrounding him at all times. Endlessly paranoid, on high alert, scared.
And finally, trapped in a reality only available to himself he had defended himself against a perceived attack, unable to recognise his brother and father when they tried to stop him. Both twins had died.
"I..."
"You were never at fault. It was a terrible accident, but there was no fault."
And then he had his son in his arms.
Loki had never truly believed that he would have this moment. The chance to try to reconcile and recover from the cruel hand fate had dealt them. Vali was just that little bit shorter than him, and still as slender as a willow wand, Loki could feel every rib under his hands.
Even in life Vali had been very withdrawn and undemonstrative, any sort of physical contact had been rare. The willingness to embrace his father said more than actual words between them ever could. As if actual words could ever truly encompass everything that had happened and required discussion.
"Hel taught me to use my magic." Vali mumbled into Loki's shoulder. "So that I won't hurt anyone else."
"You never meant to hurt anyone to begin with."
"But I still did."
And Loki knew that emotion alright. Accidently hurting every single person he ever got close to. Who knew that was an inherited trait too? It made sense that Hel had found it easier to teach Vali than he had – she had been brought up on Muspelheim, able to evolve her powers naturally without the constraints of Aesir lessons pinning her down like Loki had been subjected to. Her magic was much closer to the original ancient Jötunn craft and probably more suited as the outlet Vali had needed.
"I'm sorry." Loki had never said those words enough in life, maybe in death he needed to start using them more. Vali obviously thought so since he snorted quietly with laughter.
"A rare thing to hear from you." The words were caustic, but the tone cheerful. Loki turned in surprise at the new voice, so caught up in the moment with his son. Vali seemed completely unsurprised though, which was obvious given where you found him you usually also found –
"Narfi!"
"Hey Dad, it's been a while!" As bright and cheerful as ever – and the Norns knew where he got that from since neither the Trickster nor Sigun were predisposed to jollity – Narfi was jogging across the dark sand of the hall towards them. Vali moved aside just in time for his twin to grab the both of them up in a tight hug.
"You haven't changed a bit!" Especially the lad's propensity for hugging like Thor did – if ribs weren't cracking it wasn't a good hug.
"Just a bit more dead than when you last saw me! But looks like that caught up with you too." Narfi finally released his father, but kept an arm around Vali's shoulders.
"It was always going to one of these days." Loki took a step back so that he could take a look at both of his twin sons. Whilst he had already noted that Vali's nervous energy had become flight instead of fight, Narfi really hadn't changed one little bit. Even with the circumstances he was beaming. It was hard to keep in mind that he wasn't actually blood-related to Thor.
The darkness of Thanos was still looming, Earth was still in the firing line, and he was still dead. But for just a precious moment it didn't matter. For just a moment
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It didn't stop raining for a solid week.
They had seen Thor grieve before: his home, his mother, his friends, Pepper, Clint, but this was something new. There was such a deep anger buried in the grief this time that no one quite knew how to approach him about it. Whilst Tony and his children had been open with their sorrow the God of Thunder had closed up and removed himself from company.
"I thought you might appreciate some food. Scavenging leftovers at two in the morning isn't sustainable."
Thor had ensconced himself in one of the labs lower down the Tower. It would have been considered strange normally to find him there, but this particular lab had been used to grow various flora from Vanaheim during the creation of the seed bank, and to the alien God it felt a little more like home. He was slumped in one of the office chairs, staring at a small yellow sapling that had sprouted thin tendril-like flowers, but looked up at Bruce's soft comment.
"I don't need mothering."
"Just take this as a friend wanting to help."
Thor's gaze moved to the two bowls said friend was holding. He had been keeping his kitchen-forays to the early hours of the morning to avoid having to talk to anyone, but Bruce was right that it usually meant slim pickings. He hadn't really noticed if he was hungry or not, but wouldn't turn food down if it was offered. He shrugged and kicked one of the other chairs out from under the desk so Bruce could sit down too.
"Here, home-made ramen. It was Sam's turn to cook and he was feeling inventive."
Bruce made very light conversation regarding the plants surrounding them as they ate. He noted that whilst Thor was at least eating, he was hardly hoovering up the food like he had been known to do. As they finished the meal he stopped talking and let the silence begin to stretch out. Not uncomfortable or insistent, just waiting and inviting.
Finally the thunderer sighed heavily and pushed the bowl away so forcefully it nearly went flying off the edge of the desk.
"I have thought him dead so many times now you would assume I am used to this feeling."
"I can't imagine anyone could get used to it." Bruce said quietly.
"Do you have siblings, Banner? I don't think I've ever asked that before."
The scientist smiled slightly. "No. Only child I'm afraid."
"I miss him." The tone said more than the three simple words could ever manage. Thor seemed to have run out of tears over the past few days. "I never envisioned a confrontation with Thanos without Loki by my side."
Bruce didn't have a response for that, and it didn't really require one. Whilst they all missed Loki in their own ways – just as they still missed Pepper and Clint – Thor had lost a sibling. Tony's explanation about Hel taking Loki's soul had raised a lot of questions in the human Avenger's about life after death, but Thor was already comfortable with the concept. However, it would never take away the pain in the moment.
"What will you do?" Thor saw that he had confused his friend by jumping on a tangent, and clarified. "When Thanos comes. Assuming the rest of us don't survive, what will you do?"
"You're the only person who's asked me that." Banner said quietly. It was true – whilst there had been a lot of conversation around death recently everyone seemed to have forgotten that the Hulk really was invincible. "I don't know. I suppose I'm sort of hoping that Thanos will be able to kill me too with the Stones. They seem to be able to do everything else; maybe they can kill the Hulk too."
"You'd want that?" Thor seemed shocked.
"Well…I won't be running into battle waving him down, if that's what you mean, but I don't fancy the idea of being the only living being left alive on a wrecked planet either."
The unspoken assumption that they would be losing this fight seemed to be a given.
"At least he won't have all of the stones. Loki gave us that at least." Tony had shared with them that the trickster had been holding onto one of the two missing stones. It wouldn't make a difference for Earth – Thanos had already proven he didn't need them all to destroy a world – but it might be enough to protect civilisations beyond the Nine Realms. Thor scrubbed his hand over his eyes. "Sorry."
"Never apologise for mourning."
The Thunder God smiled tremulously. "Part of me wants the final fight to just start now. This waiting…we know the fight is coming, and we know we can't win it, but…I just want it to start. And be over."
"I used to feel the same before a show, back when I was in the drama club at school." Bruce grinned at his friend's incredulous expression. "I know, slightly different situation, but same feeling. You just want to get it over and done with."
"I suppose the analogy works." Thor glanced out of the large window. "This needs to end."
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"I suppose we should be grateful that at least our family has been able to reconcile." Narfi said cheerfully."
"That's not much of a silver lining in the grand scheme of things." Fenrir rumbled.
"Thanos might be ripping the universe to pieces but at least we have time before he comes for us."
"It's something. Time is…" Loki trailed off, staring intently into the distance as the words he'd heard finally caught up in his brain and caught his attention. Something that had been niggling at the back of his brain since speaking with Hel about how her realm worked. "Wait. What did you say?"
Narfi raised an eyebrow. "Wow, way to make a kid feel listened to, Dad. I said at least we've been able to reconcile-"
"No, no, after that."
"Uh…Thanos ripping the universe up? Coming for us?"
He was coming for them. A rather worrying set of circumstances, particularly when one is already dead. But it was ringing a lot of very loud, very attention-grabbing bells in Loki's head. Why was Thanos coming for them….
"You're staring at me like I've grown another head." Narfi said.
The trickster ignored the words, slowly moving his gaze from his twin sons to his older children, who likewise were looking confused.
"I have just had…the most ridiculous idea." And it was. It was crazy to even entertain it, but with every passing second the thought was growing into a bigger and more comprehensive plan.
Thanos needed to be stopped; preferably in time to save Earth. That had been impossible so far because he had never entered the field of battle until his opponents had already been defeated – they needed to pull him out into the fray. None of the other realms had had the firepower to prove a threat to the titan, and Earth didn't have the military capability either. But if they had help there might just be an opportunity to draw Thanos out early and take him down on the battle field.
It was a discussion the Avengers had had before with no answer but Loki was suddenly faced with the crazy thought that just maybe he had a solution.
"We need to get back to Earth."
Hel exchanged a glance with Vali. "Father, you can't, you are dead. That is the whole point of death; it tends to be permanent."
"…But not for me." The certainty was settling across him, and he would have said it was like following a pre-written path if it weren't for the fact that he knew was the last person to do what destiny wanted. "This is exactly where I am meant to be, but not where I'm meant to stay."
"You want to break out of death?" Hel's derision was clear.
"Yes. Because I can." Loki looked around at his four children. "Have you ever known me not to have an Ace up my sleeve?"
Hel opened her mouth to retort, frowned and closed it again. Narfi and Fenrir also appeared to be confused but Vali – always the bookish one, always the smartest in the room – was beginning to grin.
"What did you do?"
"Hel; you said we are all held here by the power of the Soul Stone, yes?"
"Yes. And you are not powerful enough to fight against it."
Loki grinned and with a flourish materialised his small box in the palm of his hand. Whilst Stark hadn't been able to tell what was under the raised lid, his four children were all beings of magic and could sense the raw power radiating out from the container. As the holder of an Infinity Stone herself, Hel was the first to draw the correct conclusion.
"Father! How by the Norns do you have that?!"
He quickly explained the story, but already his mind was jumping ahead, always planning, always finding the stepping stones five steps ahead. One Stone was holding them in Helhiem, and he had the one that was able to bend reality and get them out.
"So it is possible you could leave here. So what?" Fenrir's coat was glowing in the yellow light of the gem, causing strange highlights. "If you were able to bring Thanos out yourself you would have done it already."
"I won't be going alone."
"All five of us would not be powerful enough." Hel knew what she was talking about; she had seen for herself the armies that had already fallen across the realms before Thanos' army. "You would need an army to draw him out. Thousands."
"Millions more likely. And we don't need power, we need the numbers. We're going back to Earth and we are going to take an army with us."
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There had been a full day and absolutely no where on Earth had seen a single attack. The few remaining news outlets had first been confused, then hopeful as they started to wonder if this meant an end to it all. After years of attacks this was unprecedented.
However, the Avengers were pretty certain they knew what it meant, and other less optimistic media sources were coming to the same conclusion: this was the calm before the storm. Thanos was regrouping before the big push.
"What's the plan then?" Evie had Brandir on her lap as the three of them sat with their father down in the lab. "Because this is about to get intense."
Tony didn't really have an answer. How do you talk to your children about their certain impending deaths? It wasn't something he'd ever considered having to do.
"There's nothing we can do to stop this." He said quietly. "And, frankly, we won't be coming out of it. Decisions have to be made."
"Decisions." Evie was experienced enough by now to know what he meant by that. She hugged her little brother tighter and the five year old squirmed irritably. "I'm staying with the twins."
"I want to send you guys to Asgard."
"Dad-"
"You'll have a chance there, Birdy. It's not likely Thanos will go back – he already cleared the place out once. And if he does come back you'll be with people who can get you out of there."
The young woman scowled. "But you're going to stay here. Aren't you?"
"I'll get to the Bifrost site in time for Heimdall to pull me through, but I've got to do what I can here first."
"Oh yeah?" Evie raised an eyebrow that for a moment made her look painfully like her mother. "And when you don't make it? Because we both know you won't."
"Evie-!"
"No, you know it's true. You'll do your best, but you won't make it."
"Evie-!"
"Dad. You don't want to. It's as simple as that. You'll try, you'll actively try, but subconsciously you don't want to."
Ironman looked from his eldest child to the twins, then back again. "You honestly think I would do that to you? To all three of you?"
"Not intentionally." She sounded so tired of it all. "But all of the spark in your eyes has gone out, and that doesn't fill me with confidence." Brandir was squeezing her hand tightly, clearly attempting to follow the conversation and not liking where it was going – Evie squeezed back in a small attempt at comfort. Hope looked as impassive as ever, but likely was picking up on more than her brother. "And what if we agreed to go to Asgard? Would you come with us."
"You know I can't."
"Dad. What good would it do to fight? Anyone you save will only die five seconds later. There's no where to run, no where to hide and no way to survive. Why are you so desperate to fight?"
Whilst Tony tried to find an answer Evie frowned at him. "In the end we can't leave here. After all, we know there's an afterlife so it can't be all bad-"
"Not an option Evelyn!"
"Dad…" She smiled sadly. "Dad. If we go through the Bifrost, Thanos will follow. You know that. If we leave now he will see it and think we're running off with an Infinity Stone. He would follow and what's left of Asgard will be destroyed too. We can't leave, and you know it."
"We don't know that!"
"Yeah. We kinda do. There's a reason we can't evacuate anyone else. There's a reason we couldn't hold the…the funeral there. We're stuck here and we all go together."
The same conversation was being carried out by the other Avengers in the tower. If it was possible to escape what was about to happen, to get away from the planet before Thanos reached them. Quietly questioning if it was worth staying on Earth and dying, or just turning tail and running. Abandoning the rest of humanity to certain death went against everything they stood for, but there was the argument that they would do no good by staying. They wouldn't save anyone and would lose their own lives.
And even if they found somewhere to run to was running worth it? It was Natasha who raised the thought, but she wasn't alone in thinking it. They could run to Asgard, and put the remaining inhabitants at terrible risk, but then what? They would be the sole remnants of the human race, and there was no guarantee that Thanos wouldn't eventually come after Asgard again anyway. Was a life-time of running worth it?
Was the guilt of leaving everyone behind worth it? And they were seeing Thor having to live everyday with the overwhelming loss of his culture and history – they were having to take that into consideration too. Asgard had lost their single culture, Earth had thousands if not millions of separate cultures, some so intertwined as to be nearly indistinguishable but still distinct in their own rights.
They would lose everything and it was highly likely Thanos would follow them anyway.
As it was the question never made it further than the hypothetical.
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"Enemy inbound." Jarvis made the usual announcement to the tower at large.
"How many and where?" The shield was never far from Cap's hand these days and he was already picking it up from under the kitchen table as he asked the question. There was that very small pause that Jarvis had started affecting when about to deliver bad news. "Now isn't the time to mess around, Jarvis! How many, and where?"
"Numbers unknown. In the high thousands or higher. This is worldwide. This is it."
There was a sudden corresponding explosion, near enough to the tower to shake the windows on the north side and setting all of the alarms off.
"Here we go guys; you know your roles!"
There had been enough battles that they each knew how to utilise their skills best. The Orks had proven very adept at scaling the outside of buildings, so although they couldn't fly it often felt like they could.
"Evie!" With the suit assembling itself around him, Tony managed to grab his daughters' arm as she ran past him. "You need to get to the Bifrost site! Take the twins and go!"
There was a look in the young woman's eyes. Something quite resigned and frustrated. She didn't need to speak in response, just holding his gaze with that look. And Tony knew exactly what she wasn't saying and didn't need to say.
There was no time, no chance and no way she would be able to successfully reach New Mexico.
"Evie-"
"If we go to Asgard, Thanos will follow."
"Evie-"
"I'm going to manually control the guns up on the roof. That will spare Jarvis the processing time and let him get more suits in the air. I'll take the twins with me and barricade us in."
Tony stared at her as around them the chaos assembled itself.
It was hard to look at the determined young woman and remember the little girl that had once stood in her place. The child who had grown up without a mother and the teenager who had had to mature way too fast, dealing with concepts far too big.
"I wanted to make this world a better place for you." Was all Stark managed to say.
"Wasn't your fault a bunch of aliens decided to fuck shit up. Again." She waved a hand. "And yeah I know, no swearing."
"The gun turret on the south west corner can't turn a full 180 at the moment. You'll have to cover the gap with-"
"The other two, yeah, not rocket science, Dad."
"If you can hold out in one of the panic rooms you could make it to the Bifrost before Thanos nukes the planet."
Evie's smile was resigned. "Sure. I'll do my best."
They both knew that wasn't happening.
"And I'll meet you there"
Also not happening.
Tony pulled her into a tight hug, trying to put all of the words he couldn't articulate into the gesture. It seemed to work since his daughter was clinging to him just as tightly. An explosion nearby threw large cracks down one of the windows and they both turned to stare at it.
"Go. Get the twins and lock yourselves in."
Be careful seemed like a stupid thing for Evie to say in the circumstances. Instead, as the suit resumed assembling around her father she managed as quick "Give 'em hell."
"You too, kiddo."
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"You can be heard from here."
The dais Hel had led him to was playing tricks on the eyes. Or perhaps physics just didn't apply here. Of the two options that was more likely: they were still in the huge dark hall, with vaulted ceilings stretching away into darkness. But at the same time Loki would also swear that they were stood under a moonless night sky, with soft black sand underfoot. There were walls, and yet there also...weren't? The ghost of stonework hovered between existence and non-existence.
"What is this place?"
"I do not know. I found the Stone here; it is everywhere and no-where, all at once. You get used to it after a while. But if you wish to, you can speak to all of the souls from here."
"You do that?"
"I have never needed to." Hel smiled at the 'so how do you know it works?' look that immediately floated across her fathers face. "I knew it was waiting for something. For the right moment."
"Do you think this is the right moment?"
"I think it is finally upon us, yes. It was never my place to speak from here; I guide and care for the souls. You need to lead."
"Historically never my strong point."
There was a grumbling laugh from Fenrir behind them. "Historically a lot of things have never been your strong point; however, it looks like you have made a lot of changes recently. Give it a go."
Loki looked around at his four children.
Hel was staring at him expectantly, every inch a ruler graciously conceding a favour. Fenrir lurked beside her; even given his size and standing out in the open he lurked. It was a skill. Especially given that Narfi was nonchalantly leaning against him, watching the proceedings with the interest of a child in a cinema. A bag of popcorn would have looked right at home with the elder of the twins.
"Well?" And there was number four. Vali, always a little apart from everyone else, and partially hidden in the shadows. "Are you going to do it?"
Good question. If what Hel had said was true, theoretically Loki could just stand on that little raised area, talk and get the message out to everyone. In practicality that felt a little stupid. It was one thing trying to give a rousing battle speech to an army, and quite another giving it to thin air with four judgemental onlookers. Inspiring calls to arms usually required a rabble of sulky peasants, unmotivated mercenaries or a hopeless army. Not to mention Loki wasn't usually the one tasked with delivering such a speech. Oh sure, he would often write the damn thing, since Thor could never string more than three words together in front of an audience, but it was always the much-loved older brother who people wanted to follow into battle.
"I mean, take your time. Not like the fate of the universe hangs on this at all." Fenrir bared his teeth in a grin. "No pressure."
It was such a...okay, Loki had to admit it was such a Loki thing to say. His own snark directed straight at him with unerring accuracy. It definitely concluded that personality was a nature over nurture thing. He ignored the comment and directed his attention to his daughter.
"I just talk?"
"Just talk. Something you are good at, I hear." She smirked. "And Father? Try to make it inspiring?"
He ignored that too. If nothing else he could hear the under-current of concern: this was a crazy plan and if it failed there was very little hope that they would have any push-back against Thanos.
Stepping up onto the dais was disorientating. If Loki had been confused before it was now a whole lot worse. From this small platform he was able to see down the full length of the grand hall, but at the same time midnight desert tundra stretched out to the edge of vision. Pillars hung in the air, both real and not. He caught Vali's eye and the boy raised an eye-brow at him. 'Go on then'. It was easier to turn around so that he didn't have to see the four of them staring at him.
This small area was humming with power. The trickster could feel it like a second heartbeat; raw and ancient. It would have been impossible to say if it was from the Soul Stone itself, or some enchantment cast over the stone in that place, but either way in the moment it didn't matter. He closed his eyes and tried to centre his thoughts - mapping out the crux of the problem and what points he needed to get across.
What would work if I was hearing this message? What would make me realise my help was needed?
"Hear me..." It wasn't loud. In fact it was almost unintentional, but he felt the words buoyed up by whatever power resided there. They echoed around the hall and whispered out across the black sand. "Hear me." A command now. Take note. Listen.
"I am Loki. Silvertongue, Liesmith, Skytraveller, son of Odin. Many of you know of me and many know of me through other names. I have been with you since humanity first began to walk. I built pyramids, I ran with the Mymidon's, I rode in Azincourt. I have been there with you.
"Earth is in trouble. The realms are in trouble, but it is now Earth in the firing line. Millions have already died, and without help the rest will also perish. Many of you have seen war, and I can promise you that this is bigger than anything that has ever been seen throughout the history of the Nine Realms. If Earth falls Thanos will find his way here, and I cannot say what will happen then.
"These are your children struggling to survive. Your grandchildren, your descendants. They need us now. Enough cultures still venerate you: The ancestors, the Elder Ones, the glorious dead. They pray to you, revere you, ask you for guidance. Today is the day we can answer.
"I am asking you to join me. Anyone who has fought before, anyone who can handle a weapon, anyone willing to do their part. From flint axes to rocket launchers, every single person here is important, and I need your help. I intend to take us back to Earth and to fight. We need to draw Thanos out onto the battle field and Earth doesn't have the resources to do that itself.
"I am asking you to die. Join me. Fight with me. Die with me. And in doing, give Earth the chance to live!"
Live…
The word echoed and bounced back as Loki fell silent.
It…yeah it hadn't been his best speech. In days gone by he had certainly done better, usually by filling said speech with grandiosity and pomposity. That wasn't him these days, and with something with stakes this high it didn't seem right. He wasn't asking people to lay down their lives for king and country; this was for the very right to continue as a species.
"That was not bad." High praise from Hel, certainly. "Could have been a little more succinct, but not terrible."
"You can do it next time." Loki stepped back down to stand beside her. "But it doesn't look like anyone was particularly moved by it."
The hall was empty but for the five of them. If the trickster had been hoping for some grand army to appear over the horizon he was disappointed.
"What contingency plans do we have?" He asked quietly. "How defensible is this place?"
"We can hold out for a while. It is very difficult to find my realm outside of death, and difficult to enter even once it is found." Hel's brow furrowed into a frown. "But Thanos is tenacious and you have given me no doubts he will succeed on both counts. From there, we have to simply barricade and hold out."
"And what do-"
"Look!" Narfi pulled himself away from where he was lounging against his canine brother so that he could point.
Making their way across the dark sand was a large band of men, near a hundred in total. There was a certain prevalence of helmets, heavy cloaks, fur and a lot of weaponry. Most had large round shields as well, painted in a huge variety of patterns.
"Well…better than nothing." Vali said.
The apparent leader of the group hefted his spear with a shout, bringing his men to a halt, and continued on to the family alone. Removing his helmet revealed him to be middle-aged, with a neat beard and some impressive scarring. He bowed his head with deference, but only a little deference. This was someone with pride up to his eyeballs.
"Lord Loki. I am Jarl Guthrum of East Anglia. Later known as King Æthelstan. I place my household at your command."
Loki knew of him. The man evidently wasn't aware that his army had lost a pivotal battle for the control of England thanks to the Trickster's backing of the opposite side.
"As you can see, we aren't many, but we are ready for a fight." A wide grin moved the scars around on Guthrum's face and Loki reached out to clasp arms with him in the ancient greeting.
"Any and all help is most welcome."
There were other figures beginning to arrive on the periphery. Nearly all of them dressed in a similar way to Guthrum's men, but some slight differences in shield design and some carrying battle standards. There were a lot more women there than historians usually wanted to admit too. Danes, Norsemen, Finns, all of those peoples whom history had summed up under the heading of 'Vikings' rightly or wrongly. But these were the people who had worshiped the Pagan Gods. If anyone was going to heed his call to arms it would be these people.
A shout went up from the back of the jostling crowd and then the warriors were scattered as a small group on horseback cantered through and up to Loki.
Different again. Neater hair, different colour play in their clothes, and despite who they were answering to, their banners were of Christian saints. Guthrum looked less than impressed as the approaching leader made eye contact and nodded in acknowledgement.
Loki had to smirk at the interaction between the two men, knowing their history together.
"King Alfred, of Wessex. I have brought my men to answer your call." He was a slim man, but at home on horse-back, and there was a sheathed sword slung over his shoulder. A plain circlet kept his thinning hair back from his face. Not quite the formidable warrior from the history books, but someone who had proved themselves more than competent all the same. And a fearsome tactician by all accounts.
"You are very welcome here."
The confusing physics of the hall/desert meant that whilst the assembling people couldn't fit into the grand room they spread out across the sand without a problem. Loki couldn't say that they would have that much of an advantage against Thanos with the might of the Viking and Anglo-Saxon forces, but anything was better than nothing.
In the next few minutes more filtered in too, leaving them with a good few centuries-worth of Dark Ages armies. That was a lot of man power, although man power armed with swords and axes.
Not that much good against plasma guns, but they needed anything they could get.
"Well…it is something." Hel said quietly.
"It's better than nothing. There's a few hundred thousand here; we can-"
Loki's proposition was cut short by a sudden high-pitched whistling. It wasn't a familiar sound, and could have been deemed eerie if it weren't for the fact that they were already stood in a room of dead people. The assembled warriors scattered again, and this time with more urgency than when Alfred's men had come through.
Horses. Hundreds and then thousands in tight formation, each section led by a man carrying a tall snake-like standard that emitted the shrill whistling tone. There was absolutely no question as to who they were, from their uniformed armour and helmets down to the famous eagle standards peppered throughout. They were followed by the foot regiments, also in uniforms of scale mail and leather. Some carried the famous rectangular shields, whilst others had oblong or circular.
Hundreds of thousands, the might of the Roman Empire that had once taken over Europe and stretched out into Africa and Asia. Some of the more battle-inclined emperors were amongst them; Loki knew Hadrian on sight, and thought he recognised Vespasian.
Hel's hand closed on his wrist – he could tell she was as tense as he now was. They still weren't doing well: numbers counted but they still didn't have any weaponry more advanced than a catapult.
However, before he could speak, either to his daughter, or to greet the newcomers more and more began to appear along the horizon of the desert.
Shang Dynasty chariots began to thunder into view, followed closely by their Egyptian counterparts. Centuries of Mongol empire were jostling alongside Spartan warriors. And then – finally, firepower! - Napoleonic troops made an appearance.
Greeks, Celts, Aztecs, Incan, Colonial British, American Civil War, Maori, Renaissance Italian, Templar Knights, Ottoman Empire, Macedonian Empire, Zulu, Samurai…
The armies of Earth were assembling.
Someone shook his arm, making Loki realise that he had been staring in shock. Whilst he had hoped, he hadn't actually thought it would work. Humanity was ready and willing to help defend their descendants.
There was a roar overhead and a Flying Fortress sailed over them to a cheer from the arriving World War Two troops. It made the family turn to see who was assembling behind them and they were faced with a wall of tanks. Shermans, Panzers and Churchills were lined up side by side, and behind the more familiar ones the Mark 1's of World War One were rolling up.
"You know, this might just work…" Fenrir sounded as surprised as Loki felt. "This could work!"
"It better bloody work!" The voice made the trickster spin to find the source. "Hey boss!"
"Barton!"
"What? You wanted anyone who could fight. I can fight."
Despite the assembled mass of militarised humanity before them, Loki still found himself dumbstruck by a single person, who was now laughing at him.
"Your face in an absolute fucking picture!"
"Barton!" With the enormity of the situation, it hadn't occurred to Loki that this would obviously happen, and he pulled Clint into a crushing hug.
"Oof, get off!" But Hawkeye was laughing as he said it, and the returned embrace was just as tight. "And this!" He stepped back to gesture around at the still-assembling forces, "This was fucking inspired!"
A Sopworth Camel had rolled up close enough for the pilot to hear that and rev the small plane's engine in agreement.
"We need to pull Thanos out into open battle. He's been keeping away from the fight and letting his army do the work for him. We need a large enough force to make it a struggle for the Orks and for him to decide to fight."
"And then we take him?"
"And then we take him." Loki's attention was distracted by a group of women approaching, all in neat uniforms. "Yes? You aren't military."
"We're near enough as damn it. Royal Naval Nursing Service, HMT Argyllshire, we went down during the evac of Dunkirk. You're going to need staff to look after the panicking civvies."
Behind them there was a large and still-gathering group of emergency services. Police, firefighters, ambulance crews, paramedics, nurses, forest rangers, search and rescue, coast guard, mountain rangers. There was a huge number of women from the various women's corps of the world wars; not front line, but as absolutely instrumental in a battle as anyone else.
"Well, you've got an army." Clint sounded amused. "And if we get back to Earth we may even have a Hulk."
"No one is ever letting that go, are they?"
"Hell no! And we're taking…everyone?"
Loki didn't quite get his meaning until he followed the man's gaze towards a certain set of insignias on some uniforms.
"Everyone. Now isn't time to get picky, and the Luftwaffe were extraordinary fighters."
"Yes, but-"
"Barton, we teamed up with Hydra."
It was a point Clint couldn't argue with.
"Any idea how you intend to use the Stone that you cannot even hold?" Hel asked. She smiled as Barton seemed to notice her for the first time and winked at him. He glanced behind her, received a small wave from Narfi and finally put two and two together when he saw Fenrir.
"I can hold it for long enough."
"Wait, wait, wait! You've got an Infinity Stone?!" Clint spluttered.
"Long story, now isn't the time, and yes."
The last time Loki had held the Reality Stone he had been essentially messing around with it and had still only managed to hold it for about ten seconds. Not that his extremely sceptical daughter needed to know that.
"Long enough is not enough of a certainty." Hel extended a hand to him, which earned a questioning look. "One magic user is good. Two are better."
"Three is best." Vali said quietly.
Three was best. Three times the amount of time they could wield the stone, three times the amount of power running through it. They needed to twist reality open to connect Helhiem and Earth and that would require every second they could throw at it and every ounce of talent. Every moment would count in bringing through the army of the dead.
MWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWMWM
"Where the fuck has all of this fog come from?!"
"We've got bigger problems than the weather right now, Sam!"
But the fog was gathering. All across New York, as the Avenger's desperately tried to do what they could to curtail the attack, the fog was gathering.
Steve paused for a moment, trying to regain his breath in the midst of the dust and chaos. Broken ribs were burning, and he was pretty certain his left ankle was fractured. He had ended up on the roof of a burnt out skyscraper – unable to quite say how he had got there – and the devastation of the city was laid out before him. The adverse weather was hardly helping matters, although it was impossible to say where the wretched stuff was coming from.
Thick smothering fog seemed to be converging from all angles, slowly rolling down the ruined streets.
As the Captain stared down, desperately trying to catch his breath, he could see the scattered bodies heaping the street below; displaying the absolute futility of what they were trying to do. A bank of fog was rolling across them, fighting against the thick smoke rising from burnt out cars and subway vents.
As he watched a man ran out of the smothering mist.
The guy was young, maybe early twenties or late teens, but what caught Steve's attention was his clothing. Even from so high, even with so much devastation around him, he stood out like a sore thumb in a military uniform. An old military uniform.
Steve had been born after world war one, but he had been enamoured by the photos as a child, hero-worshiped the soldiers. His desire to join them had been fuelled by those photos. He knew the American uniform of the trenches and right now it was down there on the modern streets of New York. He wondered if he was hallucinating.
The lad had something balanced on one shoulder that, as the Captain stared, turned out to be a very early prototype of a rocket launcher.
There were three Orks charging down the street. The young man seemed to be entirely unconcerned as he dropped to one knee and casually sighted down the rubble-strewn road at them.
"What the hell…"
The words were unintentional. Even as the soldier out of time fired the weapon Steve's bemused attention was caught by a very familiar and haunting sound and he looked up in time to see the fog erupt.
Spitfires.
First three, in tight formation, then twenty, then a hundred or more. They were followed by many other aircraft, American, British, German, Japanese, all from the 40's and all flying together. Wounded ankle forgotten Steve scrambled unsteadily to his feet, staring wide-eyed as a Messerschmitt flew past close enough that the pilot inside could salute him.
"Is…Is anyone else seeing this?"
"What the fuck is going on?" Bucky's incredulous yell confirmed that the Captain wasn't alone in his utter confusion. He looked up as a Vulcan bomber cleared the skyscraper, followed by Ironman.
"Tony, how big is this? What the fuck is happening?!"
No one could even comment on Steve swearing.
From his much higher vantage point Stark was able to see that it was far beyond just the sudden appearance of vintage aircraft. In every direction the fog was spitting out people and machinery. Flickering alerts across his HUD told him that this was more than just the city too.
"Guys, this is world-wide! This is happening world-wide!"
"Look at the Hudson! Guys the fucking Hudson!" Rhodey's shout drowned out the other exclamations of absolute confusion at what was happening.
Tony spun in mid-air, following his friend's direction.
There were blasts coming from the river; the Orks had been targeting the small ships since the attack began. However, as the heavy smoke rolled away it became clear that now the firepower was being aimed back at the creatures. Older and cruder than the finely honed plasma guns, but with the heft to do enough damage to matter.
The smog then cleared enough for Tony to see exactly what was firing and he felt the world spin out from under him.
The USS Arizona, super-dreadnaught Pennsylvania class battleship and, most importantly, resting at the bottom of Pearl Harbour, was now steaming her way up the Hudson, all guns manned. Flanking her in the air were a mix of various vintage aircraft from multiple nations and eras, but most incongruous were the much smaller vessels dwarfed by her huge steel sides.
Wooden-hulled and dragon-prowed, long boats were escorting the much larger battle ship, their sides hung with brightly painted round shields. The decks were crammed with horses and armoured men. And a lot of axes.
"What…" As Tony stared at one of the most famous war ships in American history, and its little escort of Viking longboats very few words seemed to do the bizarre situation justice. In the end all that came out was a tried and tested old favourite. "Jesus Christ!"
And then, in his comm and across all channels, came a very smug and painfully familiar voice.
"Wrong deity, Stark."