Chapter Text
“Hear me and rejoice!”
Once more, his eyes had failed him. What good was a watcher who never seemed to know when a threat was approaching? Unable to see this ship, whether through his own negligence or whether by some sinister magic he knew not, unable to stop Hela from returning, unable to sense Loki’s deception until it was too late and the trickster had seized the throne, unable to see the dark elves before they had already attacked Asgard… And that first time, that very first time an enemy had escaped his watch, once again the young prince’s doing, while Asgard’s gatekeeper was unable to prevent it. Now, he lay in the midst of his slaughtered people, unable to save them.
“The universal scales tip toward balance because of your sacrifice.”
What balance was this? Had Asgard not once been guardian of the peace, or had that only ever been an illusion? Loki might not share blood with Odin but he had certainly inherited a gift for deception. Why were his thoughts so bitter now? What point in thinking treasonous thoughts turned at those who he had sworn to serve?
“… Thanos.”
So the titan had come. At last. And Asgard was… Asgard was diminished to a few people. That was it. Thousands of years of history, however bloody, did not deserve to whither within a few short years.
You fool. It was not only Asgard’s king you swore an oath to, you know.
He sighed as the ghostly voice came to him, perhaps a sign that the end was near. Would he see its owner again soon? Little did it matter, of course - like all things, that particular relationship had come second to his duties. The duties he had failed so spectacularly at.
“I know what it’s like to lose. To feel so desperately that you’re right, yet to fail nonetheless.”
Gathering some of his last energy as the golden helmet weighed down his head like it never had before, he raised himself a little to see for himself the titan. How ironic was it that he who was blessed with the eyes that saw all now had to prop himself up in so painful a fashion, just to get a glimpse of their downfall?
There is no fate worse than this.
I know, he wanted to call out at the ghost. I know. The all-seeing eyes were not meant for tears and yet they were barely repressed now. It had been the people of Asgard he had been faithful to, more even than to its king. Even if the universe could still be saved, what did he care? His people were no more. The realisation sent a spasm of pain running through his wretched body, so weak it could have been two thousand years older, as he watched the two princes and the titan.
“Oh I do. Kill away.”
It was a bluff. He knew it, the prince knew it, the titan knew it. But as he watched a tear trickle down the trickster’s face, he let himself embrace the bitterness at the future Asgard had been denied. It should not have been like this.
“All right, stop!”
Could the wretched boy not have understood himself before now?
No son of Odin could ever hope to understand himself.
Now there was a truth that could not be escaped. And in death, why not accept these treasonous thoughts? If only he had known what Odin’s decisions would lead to… If only someone could have kept the prince safe from his father’s lies…
“I assure you brother, the sun will shine on us again.”
And in that moment, he realised the prince did not intend to survive this encounter. He would do what it took to ensure his brother’s safety, no more and no less. A flicker of some emotion passed through the gatekeeper’s heart - what was it? Admiration? How surprising, but not entirely unpleasant. The trickster would have done well to discover this side of himself before now.
Now you’re just being an idiot.
The massive green Midgardian pounced at the titan as the ghost’s words sunk in, just as one brother threw himself at the other, shielding him with his body. Loki had not just discovered his selflessness - he had long had it in him. If only…
Stop with your if only’s. You can change this.
No. He would not tamper with that which should not be tampered with, even at death’s gate. The consequences…
Asgard is gone. Face it, moron, we’re pretty much in the worst timeline here.
Not if the universe ended by his actions.
He’s about to have two stones. Universe isn’t looking great, is it? Besides, why care about the universe? Your vows were to Asgard. Which is gone.
Asgard is a people, not a place.
You mean the corpses you’re using to prop yourself up with? Those people?
In another time, another place, such harsh words might have offended him. He might have looked solemnly at the woman whose dark wit would never cease to taunt him, even from beyond the grave. But now, there was no time for dignity. Death would come soon and in death, they were all equal. It was time.
Not before you do what you have to. Or are you too much of a coward?
What would he even say? There was no time, no time to explain. No time to find the words to tell his past self anything of meaning. Dark magic could only do so much and what good could a sentence do?
Your years have given you little in the way of wisdom, it seems. Don’t you get it? You don’t need to change the right thing. Just change anything, anything at all. And then hope for a better world. Because it can’t get any worse.
But what? Which one of his countless failures should he correct? How could he choose?
A ghostly laugh. Isn’t that obvious? Your first mistake. Mistake in watching, I mean. Not, you know, your other terrible decisions. Because we’d be here forever trying to correct those, now wouldn’t we?
Letting the frost giants in. But you, he thought sadly, would still be dead.
That’s quite all right. I know you’ll join me eventually, I had just hoped it’d be a lot later than this.
Just a delusion, of course - the real owner of the voice would not be so keen for him to live.
Only so I don’t have to see you again in the afterlife, you doofus.
Ah, there it was.
There was no time. No time for anything but a single sentence. A way to right a single mistake and hope his past self would figure things out from there. And maybe… maybe a prince stripped of his titles would grow wiser. It had happened before, had it not? Just maybe to the wrong prince.
“Allfathers, let the dark magic flow through me one last time,” he muttered as his eyes shone brighter than they had in a long time, reaching not through space but through time as they summoned words he held so strongly and clearly in his mind’s eye. Strong enough that his past self could not help but see them, would know that something so grievous had befallen Asgard that he would risk tempering with time itself, something no watcher had ever done, had ever dared to do. Clear enough that the words would serve as a warning more laden with meaning than the message - trite and simple - itself could do, heavy with their implications in ways he could only trust his past self to understand. It was fortunate that he did not have to go far and yet his heart burned with the knowledge of how their ruin had come in what was little more than the blink of an eye - but a blink, a temporary blindness of the all-seeing eyes, that was all it had taken. This time, next time, last time…. He would not blink again.
Loki is letting Jötnar into the Vault. Tell Odin.
Eight years earlier - Midgard
“So you have your hands full?”
Agent Maria Hill, who had been inspecting a handheld monitor propped on her lap, looked up guiltily. “Sorry, Aaron. It’s all kind of blowing up. Again.”
“Let me guess. Stark?”
Maria nodded, then wondered for a moment if she was allowed to say as much. After all, Aaron was still suspended. Then again he could check the news as easily as anyone else. “The director spends half his time chasing after him these days.”
“You don’t approve?”
Maria scowled. “Come on, Aaron.”
“Right, right. Can’t slag off the director over the phone. Who knows who might be listening.”
The agent sighed and leaned back in her chair, placing the handheld on the table. “I’m looking forward to seeing you, you know.”
“That makes one person,” he said, whether in bitterness or in humour she could no longer tell. It was enough to remind her… Not that the scars weren’t visible. She had just… Learnt to forget.
“Sahar might object to that.”
“Sahar doesn’t care about how I look as long as I tell her cool stories about making stuff explode.”
“Not too cool, I hope?” asked Maria with a frown.
“Don’t worry, I’m not betraying national secrets. You worry too much, sis.”
How could she not? But she decided to let it slide, instead allowing herself to be glad that Aaron would be there in less than a day. “I appreciate your discretion,” she instead said, rather dryly.
“You organised the visa for Sahar?”
“Agent Rosenberg has sorted it all.”
“Having a big cheese big sister does come with benefits after all,” said Aaron, his voice lightly teasing.
“I look forward to meeting Sahar.”
“Yeah, well. She’s just a friend, remember, so don’t get all… Embarrassing.”
“I’m not embarrassing! And she’s not just a friend. I want to thank her.”
“Don’t be all embarrassing about that either. Sahar’s cool but she’s not a big fan of SHIELD. Kinda shaky on the whole America thing too.”
“As long as she doesn’t say that at the airport.”
“She’s not an idiot. Just intense. Don’t get into a debate with her about history is all I’m saying. Or anything, really.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Maria tried to smile, aware of how tense she must look but also knowing she had to get back to work. “See you soon, little bro. Safe travels.”
“See you soon, Maria.”
As the connection was ended, Maria picked up the handheld again, looking down at the screen at the blinking alert. Stark birthday party. She sighed and dismissed it, wishing she didn’t live in a world where she had to be aware when some loud-mouthed playboy’s birthday was. But apparently now SHIELD had become a baby-sitting organisation for one guy with weapons he had no idea how to use responsibly. I have successfully privatized world peace, rang his voice in her mind. Maria snorted. What an arrogant fool.
In the coming days, she would look back wistfully to a time when Tony Stark was her biggest problem.
Loki woke up.
For a moment, he felt almost peaceful. Just a single moment, then gone. Today was the day. He stared at the vaulted ceiling, high above yet still somehow restricting, the plan he had made replaying in his mind. It was so simple, so neat, as all the best plans were. Dramatic in its nature, yet hardly significant in its consequences. A little fun.
And yet, Loki could not help but feel a little apprehension. Letting Asgard’s greatest enemies into the vault of the king should not be done lightly… But it was not as if they would actually manage to steal anything. What if someone discovered what he had done, what he was about to do? No, impossible. The magic had been cast too carefully. Not even Heimdall would know… One day, this would be little more than a fun story. Or maybe not, depending on how stupidly Thor reacted.
A small smile formed at the thought. Thor, after all, hardly deserved the throne. A rash, arrogant fool with a childlike view of the universe was not ready to be king. What was Odin thinking? Why give that idiot the throne?
Well, who was he going to give it to? You?
Loki tried to dismiss the taunting voice even though he knew that there was some truth to its words. As if Odin would ever have given him the throne. Not when the perfect Thor was there. Strong Thor, noble Thor. The man every Asgardian woman would give up an arm to be with. Loved by everyone, admired even more for his fierceness on the battlefield. Their ‘friends’ might tolerate Loki, but they adored Thor. And if Thor ever bored of Loki’s antics, as was surely bound to happen, they would turn away from him too. In a heartbeat. While Loki remained trapped in this castle. Never to escape. Sometimes he wished he could just cease to exist all together.
There was a tightness in his throat that he could not quite dismiss, however much he wanted to. It had been a thousand years since their father had told them they were both born to be kings and the words still echoed in Loki’s ears. How could both of them be kings when there was only one throne? Unless one of them died… He dismissed that thought quickly, too painful to consider. No, it had just been a strategy. A way to get his two sons to compete, a simple manipulation of the type the Allfather so effectively executed. And they had competed. Ferociously. But that was over now. It had always been clear that Thor would be the one. Today would simply be the confirmation. And what need would Thor have of him if Loki could no longer serve as his foil?
Not quite today…
Trying to shake the lethargy, Loki slowly slipped out of his bed and slunk to where he had laid out his formal wear. He saw his reflection in the golden helmet with the long horns. His short hair was frizzing up like a web of tiny broken twigs, framing a thin face that was always a step away from gaunt. So unlike the lush light hair of his brother. But the frizz at least could be remedied simply enough.
He got ready slowly, tending carefully to each feature of his appearance and clothing in turn. He knew that his brother would scoff at such rituals - ironic, given how fond the man was of his own looks - but he still diligently carried them out, mixing magic and moisturisers as he ensured that when the time came, nary a hair would be out of place. As he prepared physically, so too did he try to prepare his mind for the day’s tasks. Not just the usual layers of calm and indifference, but also the face of deception. He had to react perfectly, had to be outraged while still seeming cool and contained… Again, a twinge of worry, but it was easily suppressed. Lying was as easy to him as raising Mjølnir was to Thor. And there lay the difference between them, of course.
When Loki finished putting on everything save the helmet, he made his way to the door. He hesitated. It was still early - he had not slept well. Perhaps sleep deprivation was the cause of his restlessness. But he was not sure he wanted to spend much time with his family before the day’s events. Why make things harder than they had to be? No, he needed the fresh air. He needed open space. His father and brother would surely have withdrawn to complete their preparations. And what of his mother? Her, he did not want to face. If anyone could see through his lies… But surely, she too would be getting ready. After all, everything had to be perfect for Thor’s special day.
He left his quarters, making his way to one of the smaller palace courtyards, the one he and Thor had staked out as their own as children. It felt a little less a prison than the rest of the castle. A gush of warm wind hit him, Asgard as ever a little too warm for his tastes. He kept his quarters pleasantly cool - ‘chilly’, Thor might say - but out here… A simple cooling spell later and the discomfort was ameliorated. The plan ran through his head once again. If all went well, there was nothing more he had to do but to cast the cloaking spell. As long as those brutes were able to follow instructions correctly… His nose wrinkled in distaste at having to work with such lowlives, but sometimes such unpleasantries were necessary.
To his surprise, the courtyard was not empty.
Thor was pacing along the cobbled pathway, past the small trees planted on either side. Not yet wearing full ceremonial garments, but awake and alert. Could even the great Thor be feeling nervous?
Loki was about to retreat again, but with a vigilance Thor rarely possessed his older brother had spotted him. “Loki! Come down here!”
He suppressed a sigh as nerves once again flared in him, but slowly made his way down the short flight of stairs until he was facing his waiting brother.
“You’re awake,” said Loki, looking his brother up and down. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were taking this seriously.”
Thor grinned at his brother, as open and eager as ever. “Will you ever not mock me, brother?”
“Someone has to keep you honest.”
Thor started walking again and Loki fell into step next to him, gaze tracking the cobbled stones below.
“I hoped you would come,” said Thor.
Loki looked up, feeling a mixture of surprise and… something else. He said nothing.
“We used to play here as children, remember? And Mother, she would chase us down here.”
Loki smiled with little insincerity. Things had been simpler then, this courtyard a guardian of memories that belonged to him and Thor alone, not to the Warriors Three or Sif or even their father. Some of Loki’s best pranks had been executed here, some of his most vicious scoldings courtesy of Frigga had followed shortly after. They were all in good fun, then, with Loki being the focus of much of Thor’s attention. It was only later - when he would sneak away to the library only for Thor not to follow him, not to hunt him down and drag him back outside, when Thor was instead being taught by Odin or sparring with the guards - only later that things grew more complicated. And now they were to grow more complicated still.
Thor, never one for quiet contemplation, turned to his brother. “Mother is consulting with Father right now. I had hoped to see her before…”
“She has to prepare.”
“I know. “ Thor frowned a little. “Does Mother not spend ever more time in our Father’s presence?”
Loki too frowned, mostly in surprise at this unusually observant remark. “She does, yes.” He thought of their father, who seemed to grow ever more distant as the years passed. Was something compelling him to give up the throne sooner than he needed to?
“They will be able to rest more easily after today.”
Loki felt the urge to laugh at that but suppressed it. That was hardly likely. “Not much longer now,” he said in a soothing tone, then allowed himself to grin. “I am looking forward to seeing the helmet.”
Thor snorted. “Stop it, brother. Not when you yourself have such fine horns.”
Loki shook his head but refrained from replying. “We had better head back,” he instead said.
Thor nodded as they turned to leave the courtyard. “Will I see you before the ceremony?”
“I can come to the anteroom. Make sure you look the part.”
“The part of king,” said Thor with a note of reverence in his voice. For a moment, Loki almost regretted the knowledge that his brother would not rise to the throne that day.