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One would think the god of lies would surely be good at lying. Perhaps it was because they were two sides of the same coin that she could read him like an open book. Or perhaps his body language really was much louder than usual and that was why she could both see and sense his unease. Something, or rather someone, was setting him on edge…
But the edge of what she wasn’t sure.
She followed his line of sight to see a tall, hulking man with a beard and long blonde hair. He smiled and chuckled but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, tired and weary as they were, and the chuckle seemed forced somehow.
She couldn’t possibly be the only one who’d noticed.
Her companion certainly must have by now, staring at him as he was, not even trying to conceal the fact.
And so she asked simply,
“Is that him?”
She already knew the answer before he nodded his head mutely, the deafening silence coming from him, a testament in itself.
She tried again,
“You could say ‘hello’.”
A friendly nudge met with a sharp definite.
“No.”
He sighed, looking away as he boxed up his emotions and replaced them with a mask much like one his brother wore across the square. “I only meant to make sure he was well.”
The words tumbled from his lips, a confession given voice, a truth given life…
A lie.
She scoffed.
He was the god of lies, after all.
Perhaps his greatest trick was lying to himself.
Mischief. Lies. Illusion.
All of it required a certain finesse and subtlety…
“Are you intentionally having us cross paths with your brother?”
Apparently, he was being anything but subtle.
It wasn’t his fault their destinations happened to line up with his brother’s twice in a week—or five times in the last month. It’s not like he was doing it on purpose… the universe just had a twisted sense of humour at his expense is all.
His eyes didn’t leave said brother’s form as he corrected her.
“Our brother. And no.”
It wasn’t a lie exactly but it wasn’t quite the truth either and both of them knew it.
“Loki—”
“What would I even say to him?” He asked rhetorically, in a desperate attempt to change the subject. “‘Thor! Good to see you survived the Mad Titan that snapped my other self’s neck in front of you! How have you been?’”
Just how did one go about reintroducing themselves to their not-quite-so-long-lost sibling?
No matter.
Thor was alive, if not wholly well, and it would have to be enough. Eventually his grief would fade, and he would go on, stronger than before.
That’s how it was.
That’s how it had to be.
He sighed.
“Let’s just go.”
He was the god of lies, after all.
His greatest trick was lying to himself.
Sylvie sighed.
“You’re being ridiculous.”
And just like the child he apparently was, Loki answered,
“I am not.”
Sylvie loved Loki, she really did… He was her other half, the yang to her yin, they understood and balanced each other in a way very few could even begin to understand…
But he was really testing her patience.
“Yes, you are. Just talk to him!”
“No!”
She sighed again and leaned back against the wall of the building Loki had chosen to hide behind to spy on his brother instead of simply—
Suddenly struck with a brilliant plan, she smiled like the goddess of mischief she was and cast a duplicate of herself, one that slinked away and melted into the crowd. Waiting until her double was in position, she remarked resolutely,
“I'm going to go talk to him.”
Loki, to his credit, realized her plan the second the words left her lips, spinning around to grab her arm and stop her. “Wait!”
But it was far too late for that.
Thor, the brother she barely even remembered, had already spotted her.
And before she could even begin to explain who she was, he was in front of her, recognition and hope flickering in his eyes.
“Loki? Sister?”
A traitorous feeling rose up in her,
‘How easy would it be to take over Loki’s place in Thor's heart?’
She was awed by the fact that he could recognize a Loki no matter their form and marvelled at the ease with which he spoke to her, as if a Loki from any branch of the multiverse was still his kin…
Only…
His Loki was gone.
Neck snapped by a mad titan’s hand, life drained out of him as the last vestiges of his consciousness stubbornly held on until he could die in his brother’s arms.
She shifted slightly, shoving her emotions into a box and locking them away. Now wasn’t the time for sentimentality, she had a mission to accomplish, one that wasn’t for her.
Loki loved Thor, whether it was the one who gave up his life or her own Loki and she was going to bring him back together with his brother if it killed her.
Still, her eyes couldn’t help but soften at the eager man before her.
“Not quite.” His face fell. “Listen,” she began, willing him to heed her words because they might just be the most important words she’d ever speak. “Loki, your Loki, the one you grew up with, is alive.”
Hurt, hope and confusion warred on his face as he wrapped his head around her meaning. She continued.
“He’s just… not quite the Loki you remember. He was taken shortly after the battle of New York on Midgard in 2012. He saw…” she had to swallow hard around the lump in her throat as she saw the first vestiges of understanding in his dual-coloured eyes. “He saw what happened after his timeline was reset. The Loki that fought by your side during Ragnarök died by Thanos’ hand but this one is still alive. And he’s still your brother.”
Thor closed his eyes, breathing in the information before he looked at her calm and resolute in his decision.
“Where is he?”
She smiled and shoved Loki out from behind the building, glad that the crowd had begun to thin out now that the suns had begun to set.
Loki regained his balance and glared at Sylvie who nodded towards their brother and mouthed, “go”.
He could do this. Just say something.
“Hello, brother.”
It was enough.
Before he could even blink, he found himself in Thor’s arms, in a near-bone-crushing hug that stole his breath and healed the frayed edges of his soul he’d been trying to keep from unravelling.
He hadn’t known he’d needed this until now.
His brother was here, safe, warm and real and he’d missed him and been missed in return…
It was like coming home.
He let his eyes slip closed, trusting in Sylvie to keep watch as he held onto him as tightly as he could, putting every ounce of feeling he couldn’t name into the simple gesture.
He’d missed him terribly…
Thor turned his head, burying his face in his neck as he whispered seriously.
“You are not allowed to die on me for at least the next millennia.”
And Loki laughed.
Joyous and bittersweet laughter because he had seen how the sacred timeline Loki’s death had affected his brother each and every time. Knowing Thor better than he knew himself, he could practically feel his longing for his Loki’s true death to have been merely another illusion.
But he was here. Not quite his Loki but his brother nonetheless. They had grown up together, played together, fought together… so what if a decade or so was spent with them on different paths? They’d known each other for over a millennia and that was what mattered.
The god of lies put away his mantle and answered his bumbling idiot of a brother honestly.
“I promise.”
Eventually breathing reasserted itself as a priority and they both pulled back, though they didn’t stray very far in the fear that the other would disappear—justifiable in Thor’s case, as his brother was the master of illusions and he had mourned his death far too many times in the past decade and a half alone.
Thor watched as his brother’s face cycled through a myriad of emotions—relief, remorse, conviction—before settling on an odd mixture of tentative hope and nervous energy that he was sure he had never seen on Loki’s face before.
He watched as he waved over not-quite-Loki who was casually leaning against a building finishing off a not-quite-apple she may or may not have acquired from one of the vendors wrapping up their wares in the market.
And he was struck by the sudden thought—as she effortlessly tossed the pit of the fruit to the side, the pit disappearing into the ground and a sapling sprouting in its place—that there were two of them now.
A god and a goddess of mischief.
He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that.
But she was a Loki, or was at one point, and Loki was family so—
“Introductions!” his brother exuberantly exclaimed to cover up the fact that he was almost certainly worried about what they might think of each other. “Sylvie, Thor. Thor, this is Sylvie–”
“His better half.” She interjected smoothly, as she stepped in front of his—or rather, their—brother, boldly interrupting him and graciously extending an arm in traditional Asgardian greeting.
And his brother—who thoroughly despised being interrupted—let her.
— perhaps he should get to know her better.
He grasped her arm in acceptance.
“I thought I was the only one left of our family.” He said quietly after a moment, meeting her eyes with a sincere gratitude that he would never be able to fully express. “Instead, my brother’s come home and I’ve gained a sister!” He smiled at her before pulling her to his side and grabbing for Loki as well.
Holding his siblings close for a moment, he silently prayed to anyone that was listening that he could keep this one thing, even when everything else had been stripped from him—his family. “This is a joyous occasion indeed.” He pulled back with a hand on each of their shoulders and smiled brightly at the pair of them. “We should celebrate!”
And as Thor turned to look for a suitable place to house their impromptu reunion, Loki turned his attention to the brilliant woman besides him, the one to whom he owed the return of his brother because—though, he’d never admit it—he was fully aware that he might never have gathered up the courage to go speak to him alone.
He met Sylvie’s eyes and genuinely mouthed two words that didn’t even begin to convey his gratefulness for all she had done.
‘Thank you.’
The Odin that Loki had seen in the sacred timeline had said that Asgard wasn’t a place, it was a people.
Well, home wasn’t a place either. It was family, those that you trusted and felt safe with.
Mobius back at the TVA, Sylvie, Thor…
Loki was finally home.