AN: Hello and welcome! This is the first story I've wrote in a very long time, and I do hope you enjoy it. Kick back and relax in my little corner of the Variant Loki universe we've all come to love playing in.

And as you'll come to discover I tend to be just as long winded as the trickster in question, so we're here for the long haul! I do hope you like lengthy reads because you're in for one.

Story will update as I am able and chapters will vary in length and POVs. Thank you for your consideration and please do enjoy!

--

01 Crescendo

The frantic clacking of heels briskly making their way across the tiles wasn't a typical occurrence. Those who worked at this department of the TVA maintained a strong sense of decorum; were known too well for it, truthfully. The heavy footfalls of Minutemen and the desperate shuffling of Variants were more likely to be heard. Thus, the desperate falsetto ringing off the sparse halls proved to alert several occupants, a combination of muttered disapprovals and raised eyebrows following the culprits' every step. Not that she paid them much mind—not when she, ironically, had very little time at the moment.

Of all the instances Hazel had fallen behind, this one would prove to be the most complicated.

The turbulent bounce of her short ginger waves fluttered well behind her, the sudden rush forcing it to fray on ends. The files clasped tightly to her chest caused the TVA standard issued blouse and skirt to crease, the ascot about her neck almost getting tangled in the process. She couldn't afford to stumble now, not at this rather important juncture, no matter how these cursed heels were attempting said crime. Rounding the final corner proved difficult in this task, steps fumbling a moment before she paused, leaning heavily against a nearby wall for support. She struggled to breathe evenly, grip ever tightening on the most important case file to ever land in her arms. At least, according to the one she was hurrying to deliver them for.

Boss has been waiting a long time for this. I can't mess this up! Get it together already, Hazel—

She wasn't sure exactly when she came to be Mobius' personal assistant. Like everyone else at the TVA she had been formed for the purpose of maintaining the Sacred Timeline. It just so happened that her path led to being the right hand of their top Special Variant Agent. For as long as she could remember, Hazel had always been at Mobius' side, attending to his requests and helping with each case he brought her in on. It was an important role dealt to her by the Time Keepers, and she was determined to honor it for their sake—and her boss'.

Mobius was a complex man, but at his core laid a rare kindness not often seen at the TVA. He regarded her well, provided whatever was needed, and frankly could be a mother hen at times. She felt indebted to him in a way; not that he'd had any say in her assignment, but he certainly did his best to accommodate her. More so than she'd observed other P.A.'s treatments by their superiors. No, her boss was quite unorthodox in his consideration, particularly given she wasn't the most apt person for such a job. There had been several instances in the past that should have landed her a proper demotion, when the world was still new and her processing had barely been completed. Yet Mobius unexpectedly stood up for her, insisting she remain at her given position, passing grace over her slip ups again and again.

The thought brought a wince across her features, before she straightened up and properly fixed herself. She may not be an expert in many things, but she liked to think Mobius at least thought her well enough at this job. And she was determined to do just as right by him as he had for her. It was the least she could do, for her boss and the Sacred Timeline. There was too much on the line, especially now.

Hazel quietly entered the necessary office, greeting the desk clerk with a warm smile. "Hello Eliza," She stopped just before the edge of the dark cherry wood, trying not to flinch as the elder woman barely paid her a glance. "Here to check out a TemPad fitted with the Agent Locator. I have an urgent delivery for Mobius." The files against her chest wiggled slightly for emphasis, her expression growing ever more awkward as she waited for a response. The salt and peppered woman gave a barely audible sigh, fingers moving swiftly along her keyboard with eyes locked on the screen. Without a word the needed TemPad was passed into Hazel's waiting grip, the younger woman managing a small word of thanks before skittering away. She bid the ache rising in her chest to quell, swallowing down noise of frustration before carrying on.

It wasn't her fault that P.A.'s lacked the clearance to possess their own TemPads. Mobius had even gone to bat for her once, trying to convince the higher ups of its necessity. Yet he was waved off with hardly a word in edge wise, as the can of worms it would open wasn't worth the headache. Granted the man tried to casually leave one within her reach for emergencies, but given the severity of cases lately, he hadn't managed to swipe an extra this time around. Which forced the woman to do her least favorite activity with this job—attempting to gain a shred of acknowledgement from those around her. Would it Prune anyone here to actually look at her when she talked? Keepers knew everyone took their jobs seriously around here, but for goodness sake—

She shook her head to clear it properly, swallowing down her indignation. Hazel had to remind herself that she spent way too much time at Mobius' side, and forgetting how rare of an anomaly his personality could be would only lead to more issues. This was a serious place, with a severely necessary purpose. There was nothing personal, everything was just business. Forever.

Hazel tried to ignore how much that reality hurt, because it shouldn't matter, nothing mattered besides maintaining the Sacred Timeline. A long breath escaped her as she moved, shifting to balance the file in her arms as she struggled with the TemPad. If nothing else, getting to Mobius would at least ease the ache in her chest for a little while. And seeing the look on his face once she presented this particular information would be worth it.

The portal sprung to life before her, allowing Hazel to easily pass through. Although Mobius had permitted her as a tag along for minor missions, each time she stepped foot into the Sacred Timeline was a gift. Everything was so different on the other side of that glowing door. She'd been educated in many things about the outside universe, given her job allowed her such luxury. Yet nothing compared to actually being within it. The feeling it gave her was unusual and slightly frightening; as if it were a warm blanket wrapped about her shoulders after being left in the cold. Yet this time she had little chance to enjoy the sensation, popping out behind the man in question and breaking out in a relieved grin.

"Boss!" It fell from her as an excited call, instantly grabbing the older man's attention. He spun about at the summons, a gentle smile easing over his conflicted features. She approached him quickly, holding the file outward as if it were the greatest gift in all the Timelines. He moved to meet her, amusement passing his gaze as the file was accepted. "Breaking news: I think you're really going to want this case."

The familiar image of Loki, Asgard's deviously infamous son, caused the most excited grin to pass over Mobius' features that she'd seen in weeks.

Hazel was more than aware of what this would mean to him, but it didn't stop the pride bubbling in her chest. Mobius was regarding her with such approval that it warmed over the incidents from earlier. He had an odd knack for always knowing how to ease situations. Granted it was part of his job, but she privately hoped that she really was of use to him. Not being able to fulfill one's purpose was met with great disdain in the TVA, and she was loathe to garner such a thing from him. There was enough indifference floating around this place, she certainly didn't envy anyone who managed to gain such a thing from Mobius, of all people.

"Great work, kiddo! Did they just bring him in?" He quickly scanned over the paperwork, hurrying back through the portal with Hazel right on his heels. Part of her regretted leaving the beautiful building so quickly, questions dying sharply on her tongue. It didn't matter what that place was if Mobius didn't bring her in the first place. Those kinds of questions were pointless. They were. She quickly cleared her throat, offering a nod to the hurried man, trying hard to keep up with his quickening pace. It didn't help that she barely reached his shoulders in height, legs working overtime whenever her boss moved like this. She spared a glance towards the hall, predicting where exactly they'd be heading next.

"No, he just got through processing," She managed, turning the sharp corners with him and mentally begging her shoes to comply just this once. "They're bringing him before Madame Ravonna soon—"

"Then double time it, missy! We got a trickster to catch!" He called back to her, flashing an excited grin before ever increasing his pace. They were practically running a marathon at this point, though she couldn't blame him. They had to reach the Verdict Chamber before that gavel fell, or this would all be for nothing. She couldn't let her boss be disappointed again. It had taken a lot of coaxing to grab this file in the first place, and she didn't want him to miss yet another opportunity to crack this mysterious case wide open.

They needed a Loki, whatever it took to get one, and Hazel was determined to help make that a reality.

Mobius managed to file into the chamber first, door swinging quietly in his wake. It took her a moment to catch up, trying hard not to gasp for air as she settled beside the tense man. Mobius silently passed her the files, eyes locked tightly on the jumpsuit-clad figure before the podium. She fumbled with them, desperately willing them not to spill and exhaling with relief when they didn't. The commotion up front drew her attention, the unorthodox sound of laughter followed by a swift gavel sending a chill down her spine.

Hazel was well aware of the Verdict Chamber's purpose. There was a strict system in place to deal with the countless Variants who got dragged through. They were given a proper, albeit brief, chance to plead their cases before the gavel inevitably fell. It was a sound meant to bring relief, a confirmation that order was once again being restored and the Sacred Timeline was healthily protected. That these cosmic deviants would no longer plague existence with their unnatural presence. It was at the core of their practices, done for the sake of something far greater than anyone in the room.

Yet it never stopped her stomach from dropping the second that bang rang out.

Hazel felt churns of guilt at such a reaction. If she were to speak such sentiments aloud, she knew even Mobius would severely chastise even the barest protest. This was what they existed for. There was an order to the universe and it had to be maintained. That was how it was, how it would be, for all time. Always. Being a part of that, protecting and preserving all those lives, it meant everything to the TVA. It should have meant everything to her.

So why then, every time she had to sit through a Judgement, did nothing inside her rejoice at justice being properly served?

She couldn't help but feel her heart twist for the Loki Variant, arms spread wide before the Madame, attempting to play some trick or another. Previous Loki's had tried this as well, but given the magic prevention in place, it always ended the same. Yet the way that Minuteman laughed, how the Madame smirked so deeply—Hazel clenched the paperwork tight, jaw clamping at the sight. It was one thing to judge a Variant, and another altogether to humiliate them. It just felt like salt being scrubbed harshly into an open wound. And judging by how the raven-haired Asgardian slowly began to panic, Hazel found her stomach racing up her throat.

So many Loki's had passed through, the majority of which she'd never once laid eyes on. Mobius thoroughly enjoyed regaling his experiences to her, typically over one meal or another. His eyes would light up, face practically shining as he'd detail whatever Loki had come through that day. The man had his hobbies, but he was also a staunch workaholic. Finding a balance there usually came in Mischief God variety, and through him the younger woman absorbed all she could. The fallen Prince of Asgard caused the most issues of all the Variants, and typically was viewed as the ultimate pain by other TVA workers. Yet seeing how energetic they made her boss, Hazel couldn't help but wonder just how and why this Loki person kept varying from his set timeline, in so many ways. What might cause him to stray again, and again, and again—

And what could make someone of such a status sound so terrified as he did now.

If that wasn't enough to process, Mobius' sudden approach of the bench nearly tipped her over the edge. Fumbling quickly from the wooden pews, she managed to keep a few paces behind him, trying hard to walk both briskly and professionally. Her eyes casted downward as she approached the bench, the acidic gaze of Ravonna Renslayer passing across the smaller woman before focusing on the task at hand. Hazel repressed a shiver at the silent exchange, eyeing the light scuff marks on her standard issue heels. She knew her place, and it certainly wasn't anywhere near one of the TVA's top authorities. The Judge herself, whose gavel caused her to flinch, and who's abrasive treatment felt like sandpaper across her very being. If there was anyone she'd rather not be around, it was the Madame. But her boss was so close to Ravonna that it rendered her wish completely impossible. They'd been companions long before Hazel came along, and while she knew her place was at Mobius' side, she couldn't help but feel the Madame would prefer otherwise.

It was during their hushed conversation that Hazel felt something. It wasn't often that her intuition had to kick in; being a desk personnel with next to no field experience rewarded her with such a thing. Yet for whatever reason something began to feel off. Her gut instincts urged her to act, head raising slightly and allowing her gaze to wander the room. The usual occupants sat in bored reprieve, Minutemen posted at every door, nothing out of the ordinary. So why—

He's looking at me!

The startled thought crossed her mind before she could truly process it. Hazel felt her breath hitch, and the conscious part of her prayed no one would hear that unprofessional reaction. Yet the remainder of her attention locked solely on the Loki Variant being restrained nearby. For whatever reason, the man had decided she was a point of interest. The protests died on his tongue as their eyes met, a rare beat of silence passing from the usually mouthy prince. Her throat ran dry as they simply stared at each other, doing an odd assessment that was equal parts confusing and admittedly intriguing. Hazel found it difficult to turn away, her brain taking this astute moment to completely stall out.

His eyes are so blue—

It wasn't like she hadn't seen a Loki Variant before. In truth she'd been able to peek at quite a number of them, given Mobius' responsibilities. Yet none of them had looked exactly like this one. She supposed that was to be expected, yet to such a degree as this? After all, she'd never met a direct Variant out of someone's Prime before. And according to his file, this particular prince was fresh off the very start of his harrowing escapades in New York. She couldn't help but glance him over, convincing herself it was more out of sheer professional curiosity. Nothing to do with the thousand questions threatening to attack her tongue, aimed at this admittedly unique Variant. The tall build, the dark hair, all so very Loki by design. But his face—that look in his eyes—

—but so very…sad.

And even still, he refused to look anywhere but her. Whatever his reasons, his stare remained, boring into her twin namesakes like a man searching for something more.

The world seemed to spin around those eyes until the moment Mobius stepped between them, giving his assistant a pointed look and raised brow. The motion caused her to start, an apology building up as her gaze darted towards the floor in utter embarrassment. It died quickly on her tongue as the Variant addressed her boss, the sound of his deep timber causing her to peek upward. With his attention shifted it was easy to see the defenses slide back into place. His jaw tightened as the Minutemen relinquished his custody to the Special Agent, those shock blue eyes glancing about as they moved into the hall. Only once more did they pass over her, lingering for a moment before facing whatever lied ahead. And yet again she felt that odd sensation rise, that curiosity of why banging behind her teeth.

No one ever just saw her. That wasn't how this worked. Even the few other Loki Variants that had viewed her did so with anything from disinterest, to disdain, to outright disgust. It was nothing new. She was a pointless mortal in the eyes of one who considered themselves a god. Something not worth paying mind to. Hazel knew her place in this universe. She did. But—

He saw me.

And as they made their way towards whatever laid next, Hazel couldn't help but wonder—

why?