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Mobius, for all that his life has revolved around time for as long as he can remember, has never really considered his own mortality. He’s never had a reason to. Each day is largely the same as the one before, and the one coming up next. And one day, Mobius will stop doing his job, and what happens after that has never been more than a passing thought. Maybe he’ll be deleted by the Time Keepers. Maybe he’ll be repurposed. Refreshed. Who can say? And why would it matter?
Loki changes everything. It’s his talent. It’s his nature. Loki drops into Mobius’ life and suddenly, his life seems so small. So empty. Loki filling all those lonely, empty spaces in Mobius’ life makes him realize how empty it really was, always had been. Mobius never wants to go back to that time, the time before his Loki. He can’t imagine not being by his side. And he doesn’t want to think about what will happen when he has to leave, when his clock stops and Loki is left all by himself again, him against the world, against the universe. Against every universe. The thought scares Mobius. More than dying himself, he’s terrified of what that’s going to do to Loki.
Maybe that’s why he lets Loki get him an apple.
Loki knows that Mobius is a mortal man. Mobius isn’t his first mortal, not by a longshot. Mobius is, however, the first mortal that Loki can’t bear to lose. Loki cannot imagine his life after Mobius. He will not. It’s too much to ask of him after everything he’s been through, everything he’s suffered, everything he’s done to make right his mistakes. Loki is scared to lose Mobius, not just because of how much he loves him…but because he’s scared of what will happen next. Loki doesn’t want to return to the empty, angry creature he once was. With Mobius gone, Loki’s agony would be assured. Loki doesn’t want to remember what he can do when he’s backed into a corner and filled with pain and loneliness.
Loki starts with the most logical solution to the issue of Mobius’ mortality. For all that Loki is a god, immortal and powerful, he didn’t begin that way. The blessed fruit, Idunn’s golden apples, are a gift granted to all the gods, to ensure their lasting vitality, their vigor, their talents. Why shouldn’t Mobius be extended the same? Who would be more worthy than the mortal man who saved all of them, all of time itself?
“I agree, brother,” Thor answers plainly, taking a swallow of his ale. “Your Mobius would make a fine addition to our ranks.” He returns his attention to his meal, as though the discussion was no more significant than commenting on the weather.
Loki stares at him slack-jawed, having only just finished making his case. He’d prepared several arguments to defend Mobius’ honor and worthiness, had even braced himself to beg, if need be. Mobius was worth that. More than that, even. But here was Thor, shrugging and nodding as though—
“You knew!” Loki gasps, jabbing an accusatory finger toward his brother. “You knew I would ask for this. You knew I would come to you.”
“Of course. Your love is a mortal. How could you not ask me to remove the affliction?” Thor, appetite as strong as always, piles another thick slice of beef onto his plate, surrounding it in roasted summer vegetables. “And should you ask, how could I deny you?”
Loki slams his hand on the table, making his wine glass tremble. “You’re supposed to deny me!”
“Do you want me to deny you?” Thor looks up from his plate, peaceful curiosity on his face.
“No! I want you to agree!” Loki snaps, more irritated by how calm Thor is than by anything else.
“You’ll note that I have agreed, brother.” Thor grins at him, amused as ever by Loki’s tiffs and fits of temper.
“Fuck you,” Loki hisses, the only thing he can think to say with all his prepared speeches and clever words rendered useless. He stands to leave, his own meal unfinished, appetite gone. He’d spent hours weaving just the right words, practicing his tone, anticipating every twist and turn the conversation could take, preparing arguments and counterarguments until dawn. And as usual, Thor dashed his plans to bits, like a rowboat against the rocks.
“Loki.” Thor’s voice stops him. Loki turns back, lips pressed thin with displeasure. Thor looks conflicted for a moment, and Loki is about to turn to leave again when Thor says, “I could never ask you to lose him. I’ve seen what he means to you, and I know…there will not be another like him. I couldn’t ask you to suffer a loss so great when you’ve already lost so much. It would break you into pieces that would never heal.”
“I…” Loki’s throat goes tight, tears springing to his eyes. He ducks his head and clears his throat, managing to sound almost casual when he says, “I thank you for your generosity, brother. It is…appreciated.” Loki makes a swift exit before he says something too sentimental.
There is a banquet held to announce Mobius’ coming initiation into the ranks of the immortal. Food and wine and conversation fill the hall, Mobius seated in a position of honor near Thor, Loki sitting proudly at Mobius’ side. They’ve been nearly inseparable since the day they announced their companionship before all the eyes in Asgard, married, for all intents and purposes, though Loki personally feels that what they have goes beyond that. Marriages can be dissolved. His love for Mobius, however, cannot be.
Mobius is all smiles, a little drunk from too much sweet wine and in high spirits as nobles and gods alike stop at their table to offer Mobius a kind word and a hearty welcome. Mobius is well-liked and highly respected, quickly gaining reputation not for bringing an end to the wolf he’d been thrown to, but for taming a much more formidable beast. Thor isn’t the only one to notice the way Mobius has smoothed many of Loki’s jagged edges.
The banquet lasts well into the night, Loki finally shepherding his beloved off to bed around the time Mobius stands and joins in with an Asgardian song, though he absolutely does not know the words and can barely keep his feet for the dance. More than a little drunk, Loki amends his earlier thought. He barely tips Mobius into their soft bed before Mobius is asleep, snoring quietly with his arms wrapped around Loki’s pillow, holding it to his chest. Loki has to look away to breathe, the surge of love that seizes him is so strong, so intense. He’s never felt this way before. Thor is right. Losing this would destroy him in a way from which he would never recover. Loki hopes Thor knows what a gift he has given. Loki will never forget it.
A day later, Loki and Mobius join Thor and Valkyrie in the sacred orchard for a small, private ceremony. Idunn is already there, as she usually is, tending her apples and speaking to her trees. Her youth is always startling, to Loki, no matter how many times he sees her. She is adult, but only just, ever the maiden, ever the embodiment of youthful health. Only her eyes give away how very old she truly is.
At Loki’s side, Mobius is looking very handsome in his Asgardian leather. Like he's always been one of them. Loki feels as nervous as Mobius looks. He hopes he's doing a better job of hiding it. Tries to give Mobius a reassuring smile, but it must look strained, because Mobius touches his hand, gives it a soft squeeze. "Promise you'll still want me in five minutes?" Mobius jokes, blue eyes soft with fondness.
"In five minutes, in five centuries, in five lifetimes," Loki answers, more serious than he means to be in such mixed company. He flushes and clears his throat, grateful that Thor is suddenly extremely interested in the bark of the apple tree they're standing under and is pretending not to hear them. Valkyrie is staring, grinning in that special way she does that always tempts him to take a stab at her. Loki pointedly ignores her. "You're going to be fine. You'll be you. Just... more."
"Can't wait to find out what I'm the god of." Mobius takes a deep breath and turns to Idunn, waiting patiently for them to be ready. Only she can pick an apple from the tree, or the fruit will wither and die, restorative powers rendered useless. Idunn glances to Thor, who nods. She raises her arm, and the tree shivers, leaves rustling as branches move, and one branch bows toward her waiting palm, one perfect golden apple landing obediently in Idunn's hand. She touches the trunk of the tree with her other palm, and the branches return to their original position, the tree’s duty fulfilled again.
Idunn turns the apple between her hands, making a show of searching for imperfections. Finding none, she presents the apple to Mobius with a sweet smile. "May it serve you well."
Mobius takes it from her slowly, carefully, like he's terrified he's going to drop it or lose it or break it somehow. He stares at it for a long moment, and Loki's stomach twists with nerves. What if Mobius changed his mind? What if this is too much to ask? What if Loki's selfishness, his refusal to be alone, is so undesirable that Mobius not only rejects the apple, but Loki along with it?
A warm hand on his face snaps Loki out of his waking nightmare. Mobius is looking at him, that little smile of his firmly in place, like Loki is being ridiculous and Mobius knows it, can tell just by looking. Mobius doesn't need to say a word. He holds Loki's gaze, one hand softly cupping Loki's cheek, while the other lifts the apple, the crisp flesh crunching as Mobius takes a bite.
Thor barely waits a moment before clapping Mobius heartily on the back. Valkyrie elbows him in the side, none too gently. "You're gonna make him choke, dumbass."
"King Dumbass, please," Thor grins as he gives her a little shove.
Loki isn't really paying attention to them, their childish squabbling continuing, a dull drone in his ear. Mobius is still eating the apple, though he knows one bite would have been enough. "This apple is delicious," he says to Idunn, who smiles again and thanks him in her soft, small voice.
The changes in Mobius are subtle at first. Mobius just looks... more real somehow, more solid, and alive. His blue eyes, clear and beautiful before, now look electric, inhumanly bright and vivid. Stunning. His hair is shot through with bolts of gold, the silver brightening until Mobius looks as though a craftsman used a chest of precious metals to make him, spinning each fine hair on his head with masterful skill. Mobius shifts uncomfortably, tugging at his armor. "What is it, darling?" Loki asks.
"I don't think this fits right anymore," Mobius says, struggling to get free of all the buckles and ties. “It’s kind of…hard to breathe.” Loki and Thor come to his aid, dropping the armor onto the soft grass at their feet as they bare Mobius' upper body. "Well, shit," Mobius says as he looks down at himself.
He's grown. Parts that were once flat and lean are now corded with muscle. He's no rival to Thor, but Mobius has certainly...filled out. Loki slowly looks down, sees the leather of the pants straining around thick thighs and muscular calves and can't help but wonder what else might be different in that region.
"Don't objectify me. I see you looking." Loki snaps his gaze up and blushes like a boy catching his first glimpse of skin, and Mobius laughs, the sound somehow richer, more enchanting than it's ever been. It's Mobius. But more.
"So how do I find out what I'm the god of?" Mobius asks as they bid goodbye to Idunn and return to the palace.
"You'll figure it out," Loki answers. "It may come out naturally, or it may take time to discover. But you'll know it when you find it. You'll feel it inside, undeniable. A part of you." Loki stops him, nods to the others to go on ahead. There's another banquet waiting to welcome Mobius properly. But Loki wants a moment alone with him.
"How do you feel?" Loki looks into those striking blue eyes, at once foreign and familiar. Home. The apple hasn't erased the fine lines in the corners of Mobius' eyes, and Loki is glad. He likes them.
"I feel good," Mobius says. "Different. Strong, energized. But cramped. I gotta get out of this leather." He tugs on the side of his pants, the leather hugging him so tightly it's a wonder he can move at all.
"Let's get you changed," Loki says, leading the way toward their quarters, "we've a banquet to get to."
"Didn't we just have one?"
"Welcome to Asgard. If there's no reason to celebrate, we'll invent one and throw a banquet about it." Loki turns and steals a kiss, quick as a blink. "But you, darling, are more than enough reason for a feast."
"I AM a feast," Mobius corrects.
"You are," Loki concedes as they reach their bedroom, pushing Mobius inside and kicking the door shut behind them. "And as it happens, I'm starving."
They're more than a little late to dinner. But it’s worth it.