A/N: Just another quick reminder that this Epilogue has SPOILERS for Endgame in it. It's not a huuuuge spoiler, but I would recommend holding off until you've seen the movie if that kind of thing bothers you.
Happy reading!
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He'd failed.
It was the single thought running through Loki's mind, a repetitive chorus burrowing into his brain as they herded him down one sterile corridor after another, like an animal being led to slaughter. Thor stalked beside him, keeping a heavy grip on Loki's shoulder, as though distrustful that the chains they'd trussed him in would hold. His brother's rage was palpable; Loki had felt the muted strength of it the moment Thor landed on Stark Tower, and it suffocated him now as they stood side by side. Already, he was dreading the lecture that was to come once they returned to Asgard.
The others hovered like flies, hands twitching to their weapons any time he so much as blinked in their direction. It would have been amusing, had Loki not been so infuriated with himself for losing to such a motley collection of inferior beings. They should have been beneath him, yet here he was, trussed up like a turkey at their mercy.
He'd been so sure of victory, it hadn't even occurred to him to make a contingency plan for defeat. But somewhere along the line, he'd miscalculated. He hadn't counted on his brother's persistence, nor the brute strength of the Hulk turned against him. Loki could still hear the green monster, bellowing rage as it was forced to navigate a hundred flights of stairs. The sound sent ricochets of remembered agony through his body, and he scowled, muscles tightening with impotent rage.
They herded him into an elevator. Loki glanced around at his captors, sizing up his chances of making a run for it. With the obnoxious Captain off playing hero, and the beast exiled to the stairwell, only his brother and the man of iron were left to guard him. The rest of the mortals filling the building were no more a threat than a swarm of troublesome mosquitoes. If he could just get his hands on his sceptre...
But he couldn't. The sceptre was gone, carted off by fools who'd probably never be capable of even contemplating the true extent of its power. Loki swallowed a clod of bitterness in his throat. He'd come so close. So gloriously close to victory. Yet somehow, success had never felt further away. He clenched his chained fists until he felt his nails pierce skin, smirking humourlessly at the pale satisfaction of drawing blood.
They'd muzzled him, just to add to the humiliation. Loki chewed his tongue in silence as they travelled to the ground floor, wanting to lash out, to tell them they were all making a horrible mistake. If the Midgardians thought wrapping him in a straight jacket and hauling him back to Asgard was going to solve anything, they were as stupid as he'd always assumed them to be. As if Thanos would accept defeat so easily.
No. The mad Titan was many things, but a forgiver of failure was not one of them. This Loki had understood from the moment he fell into his clutches. If he did not succeed in his mission here on earth, his life was less than forfeit. No amount of protection, no army, no Avengers, would keep Thanos from exacting his revenge. And once he was finished with Loki, he would come for the Tesseract, and for the sceptre. For Earth.
Midgard would burn beneath the Titan's rage. Thanos' army would make the Chitauri look like friendly neighbourhood watchmen by the time he was done. Noone would be spared in his quest for victory.
Darcy. Loki groaned, furious with himself for allowing her name to penetrate his mind. He'd kept a fierce barricade around thoughts of that pesky woman since he left Jane Foster's house, for his own sanity as much as anything else. But the idea of her being anywhere near Thanos shattered every defensive wall he'd ever constructed. It made his blood run cold. It made him want to do something stupid, like fight tooth and nail to free himself of these chains, then find her and ferry her to safety.
Loki clenched his jaw, shaking his head to clear it of this madness. Desperate for a distraction, he swivelled to make evil eyes at the Shield Agent beside him, using the man's absurd display of terror as a diversion from his treacherous thoughts.
He had to get off this planet.
Finally, they reached the lobby. Loki hadn't been paying close attention, but his ears pricked when he heard the bionic man, Stark, mutter something to Thor about 'expecting trouble' and 'letting him talk.' Intrigued, he watched with interest as they approached a crowd of official looking agents, strategically placed to block their exit from the building.
One of the men stepped forward, steely gaze travelling over Thor and Stark before coming to rest on Loki. "May I ask you where you're going?"
"Er, lunch and then Asgard," Thor replied, giving the stranger a cold once-over. "I'm sorry, you are?"
The man was still looking at Loki. Loki cocked his head and stared back, unblinking, as Stark muttered the answer in Thor's ear. "Alexander Pierce. This is the man who bought the folks behind Nick Fury."
"My friends call me Mr Secretary," added the man, still in that curt, business-like manner. "I'm going to have to ask you to turn that prisoner over to me."
Loki stiffened, hoping to convey with his eyes what a bad idea that would be for everyone involved. Asgard, he could just about stomach. Remaining on Midgard to be paraded around their pathetic laboratories and treated like an escaped science experiment? He'd blow up New York again before he let that happen.
Thankfully, Thor seemed to share a similar sentiment. Loki rolled his eyes as his brother rabbited on about returning him to Asgard to face Odin's justice. He could well imagine what the Allfather would have to say about his activities here on earth. Nevermind that Odin himself had had no qualms exerting dominion over the mortals in centuries gone by, revelling in their worship and drawing strength from their eternal devotion. Nevermind that even Thor had seen nothing wrong with bedding a mortal woman and then -
A giggle echoed in his head, followed by a very familiar voice.
I'm sorry. It's just - you're a God, for god's sake. And you're standing in the kitchen talking about fucking and bedding and -
Loki ground his teeth and banished the sound of her voice from his thoughts. The last thing he needed right now was a reminder of what followed that comment, not when he was trying to concentrate. As if his weakness hadn't been made clear enough already.
With a concerted effort, he dragged himself back to the present. It took a moment for him to realise some kind of scuffle had broken out while he was lost in reminiscence.
"Get your hands off me!" snapped Stark, as the man called Alexander Pierce made a lunge for the briefcase. There was a brief, pitiful scrabble, before a rush of bodies closed in around them, thickening the already tense atmosphere. Loki edged forward, eyeing the Tesseract hungrily while his brother was distracted.
"Give me the case!" snapped the Secretary, no longer calm and collected, but seething with unbridled lust for power. Loki could recognise the smell of it from a mile away. His lip curled.
The situation was threatening to escalate to weapons when Stark gasped, his entire body going abruptly rigid and his arm seizing Pierce in a death grip. He sagged to his knees, then toppled sideways and crumpled to the ground, dragging the Secretary with him. The case fell from his hand and hit the floor, but nobody seemed to care or notice. All attention was fixed on the convulsing man. Including his brother's.
Loki held his breath. He took half a step, eyes pinned to the briefcase, weighing his chances of being able to summon it closer without anyone noticing. Before he could find a way around his chains, the case suddenly span across the floor, as if someone had kicked it forcefully away from the crowd. Only, nobody had. Thor was still on his knees before Stark, trying desperately to help him, and the rest of the agents huddled around the pair, some with their hands on their weapons, others radioing urgently for medics.
Nobody seemed to notice that the most important power source in the entire universe had gone skidding across the marble floor like an oversized hockey puck.
A rush of intuitive understanding swept through Loki as he watched the scene unfold. Something was happening. Something unplanned, unanticipated, and potentially catastrophic.
Something that might help him escape.
He turned in time to see a dark-clothed Shield agent snatch the case from the floor. Loki growled as the man hurried off, frustration pooling at his fingertips and making the chains around his wrists crack to breaking point. He had just enough time to contemplate the bitter irony of watching the Tesseract vanish from sight a second time when the door to the stairwell exploded outwards and a furious Hulk burst through, knocking the Shield agent off his feet and sending the briefcase flying. It hit the floor with a crack, the force of the impact snapping the lid open. Loki watched, stunned, as the Tesseract jolted loose and slid across the polished marble toward him.
He didn't stop to think. His boot came out instinctively to stop the cube's path, and he stared down at it in disbelief. There it was. The Tesseract, glowing innocently, just resting there within his reach.
Within reach.
Loki blinked. He glanced around, checking briefly to make sure it wasn't some kind of trap. Then, before he could second-guess himself, he bent down and snatched it up with both hands.
Nobody noticed. Stark was still writhing on the floor, none of the Agents were looking at him, and his brother seemed to have completely forgotten his existence. It was an impossibly fortunate boon. Luck rarely smiled on him in such a way, but Loki wasn't about to look this gift horse in the mouth.
He closed his eyes, letting the power of the Tesseract ripple through him. Possibilities expanded in his chest like air. He could go anywhere. Anywhere at all. With this power at his fingertips, he could return to Asgard, triumphant rather than in chains. He could travel to the furthermost reaches of the universe, where noone would know him. He could disappear and start over. He could take the Tesseract to Thanos, and earn the Titan's respect. Who knew what kind of opportunities that would unlock.
All this flitted through his mind in an instant. And yet… Loki knew what he should do, but it was not to any of these choices that his thoughts turned. Not to Asgard, where the Tesseract would at least be nominally safe. Not to somewhere he could run to, and disappear. Not to power or fame or fortune.
No, as soon as that glowing cube of light tapped the toe of his boot, there was one thing and one thing only on Loki's mind.
With a smirk, he channelled the power of the Tesseract and disappeared into the aether.
He had a visit to make.
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Darcy Lewis was chopping carrots in her best friend's kitchen when the God of Mischief materialised before her. A glowing blue cube rested between his chained hands, his mouth was muzzled by some kind of metal guard, and an expression of pure mischief danced in his green eyes as he regarded her.
This time, she didn't even want to scream.
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A/N: Ta da! So, I'm totally over the moon with this because okay, it's short and not really a complete story arc BUT I STILL FINISHED IT, which is a big deal for me as readers of my other fanfics well know (*cough* sorrrrry guys I'm getting to a RaR update I promise). And also I rarely write out-and-out smut so that was a nice change of pace and a good chance to try something different so, yah.
I hope, if anyone makes it this far, that they enjoyed my little offering to this world of the MCU and its untapped Darcy/Loki potential. Please consider letting me know. I adore any and all feedback and am constantly striving to improve my writing. Plus it just about makes my day hearing that others have found enjoyment in my work. That's all a humble writer could ever ask for, in my opinion.
Peace and love, ~A