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Sylvie sits in the sand, enjoying the afternoon sun.
A gentle breeze drifts in from the ocean, blowing strands of her long hair across her face. Everything is completely silent, except for the sound of waves rolling onto shore and crying seagulls, fighting for food in the distance. She can feel the waning heat of the sun soaking into her skin, filling her body with warmth.
Everything feels perfect.
“Enjoying the sunshine?”
Her eyes flutter open.
Loki sits beside her, watching her. His raven hair falling across his forehead and she itches to put those curls back in their place.
“It's glorious, isn’t it?” Sylvie replies, then glances at the sand. Smiling, she wiggles her toes and draws some nonsense circular patterns in the sand with her toe.
“Yeah,” Loki says, his eyes set not on her foot, but on her face, “yeah, it is.”
He’s happy to see a smile on her face.
Especially these days.
“Mhnm,”
A comfortable silence falls between them then as they both focus on two seagulls fighting each other over a dead crab, while a third one swoops in and steals it from the bickering pair.
Sylvie’s smile widens.
She loves these peaceful moments with Loki. After everything that happened, she’s beyond grateful they could still somehow find even a few stolen moments of peace together.
Of being together.
It’s much more than she thought they’d ever have.
She sneaks a glance at Loki. He is back to staring at the ocean with that same thoughtful expression on his face like before. Like he’s trying to figure out its many mysteries it still carries within its depths like some over enthusiastic scientist.
The evening sunlight glints off his raven hair as it continues to blow lightly in the breeze.
He looks so beautiful.
“Do you ever wonder...” Sylvie begins vaguely, trailing off as she tears her gaze away from the breathtaking man next to her and instead forces her eyes to follow the waves rolling to shore.
Loki turns to look at her, one eyebrow raised quizzically.
“Wonder what?”
Sylvie hesitates, not sure how to word this.
Not without opening wounds that will never heal.
“...If things could have been different?” Loki finishes gently, reading the wistful look in Sylvie's eyes.
Sylvie meets his gaze and nods.
She isn’t surprised that he figured out what’s rattling around in her head. Loki has always been able to see into her heart and mind so clearly, as if it were his own.
But especially now.
It’s kind of annoying.
“All the time,” he admits with a sigh. He turns his gaze back to the ocean. “I replay events over and over, try different scenarios, imagining how I could have made better different choices...”
Better choices.
Much better choices.
“We both have regrets,” Sylvie contributes quietly, her thoughts drifting to her own mistakes that had led them here.
Loki nods.
“Too many to count.”
And heavens help her wretched soul is he right.
It takes a few moments before Loki speaks again.
“But...despite everything, I don't think I'd change the story that brought us here,” he says.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. It'd be too risky, wouldn’t it be?” He asks “We don’t have much but if we changed a single thing we could’ve lost even what little we have now.”
Sylvie considers his words.
He is not wrong.
As painful as their past was, it led them to this moment together.
This small, bittersweet moment.
At that a delighted giggle draws Sylvie's attention.
She looks up to see a child no older than three playing in the sand a couple of feet away from her. Her dark hair is tied in small pigtails that bounce erratically as she digs into the sand with a minature plastic shovel and scoops up mounds of it to build a sandcastle.
Sylvie smiles.
“She's getting so big,” Loki remarks softly beside her. A matching smile of his own grows on his face as the child makes a frustrated sound when half of her mighty sandcastle crumbles.
“She is,” Sylvie agrees with a thoughtful hum, remembering when this sweet little girl had just been a tiny swaddled and helpless newborn. Now she’s toddling around on her short legs, excitedly babbling to herself as she plays in the sand.
“Time is passing so quickly.”
Sometimes too fast.
And sometimes, as it were, not fast enough.
“For some,” Loki replies, a touch of melancholy in his tone. Or maybe it’s bitterness. Likely both. “But not for me.”
He sighs.
“My life…it just stretches on interminably.”
Sylvie meets his eyes.
Those same eyes that once sparkled with mischief and playfulness, but are now dimmed by the burden of a hard-won wisdom and painful experiences accumulated over a lifespan now sadly far longer than her own.
Her heart aches for him.
For them.
For what could have been if fate had been kinder to them.
“I wish I could do something,” she says and her voice cracks, “to ease your burden.”
“But you do.” Loki's eyes soften. She knows that look. It’s the one he uses whenever he ignorantly brushes aside his own grief to soothe her own ache. Because even in the bleakest of all situations, his priority is her happiness. “Just having you here is comfort enough.”
Sylvie doesn’t say anything. She knows it’s not enough.
It will never be enough.
Loki gives Sylvie a sad, knowing smile, as if he can read her melancholic thoughts.
Which of course he can.
“But such is the life of God,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “Moments fly by so fleetingly, yet centuries drag on endlessly. For eternity.”
Sylvie nods, swallowing hard.
She does’t want to think about eternity right now. Not like this. Not the one Loki is talking about.
“But…there is always hope,” Loki adds. His tone perks up a little at that and he glances back at the toddler stabbing the sand with her shovel. Apple truly doesn’t fall far from the tree. “Hope.”
The little girl looks up from her sandy murder scene as she hears her name. Her eyes settle on Loki.
He winks at her and crooks a finger, beckoning her to come over. The toddler quickly abandons her plastic shovel and waddles over on her quick legs, leaving footprints behind her in the sand.
She comes to a stop in front of Loki, watching him with wide, curious blue eyes.
Eyes that mirror his own.
Loki smiles and leans forward to whisper something in her ear. Sylvie has no clue what, but whatever it is, it makes the toddler break into a huge grin.
“Yes!” She nods enthusiastically, then turns on her bare feet and toddles off in the direction of a grassy area near the beach.
Sylvie watches as the child kneels in the grass and carefully begins tugging up tiny fistfuls of wildflowers.
"What did you tell her?"
Loki shrugs. For a moment his eyes sparkle with that same mischievous fire that’s long gone now.
What a glorious sight to witness again.
“Oh, you know…” he says, “just the usual bit of mischief.”
He flashes her a grin. A beautiful, playful, carefree grin.
One that makes him look less like a God, but more like the man she used to know.
It’s so rare to see this playful, impish side of Loki nowadays. And she treasures each and every single glimpse of it.
The sun begins to dip lower, painting the sky in beautiful hues of orange and pink that even reflects on the ocean’s surface. The rolling waves are quieter now, and most of the seagulls have flown away, returned to their nests and shelters for the night.
Sylvie sighs.
How she wishes she could lean her head on Loki’s shoulder, feel the warmth of his touch around her and stay in this moment forever.
She doesn’t want to bid it goodbye. Not even for the night.
The patter of tiny feet in the sand draws her attention as Hope comes toddling back over. Her pigtails bounce adorably with each step she takes.
In her tiny fists she holds two slightly crushed bouquets made of white daisies and bright red poppies. Along with some strands of grass for a nice touch.
Her little gardener.
“For you, Mommy” she declares proudly, holding up the flowers. She glances at Loki then back at her, flashing her an adorable gap-toothed grin. “From me and Daddy.”
A knot forms in Sylvie’s throat, rendering her unable to speak for a moment.
So she nods instead and accepts the bouquets with a touched, emotional smile.
She glances at Loki, finding him observing the scene with a soft look in his eyes.
This was his doing. Of course.
He was the mastermind behind this show of affection, his way of trying to lift her spirits when he no longer could directly.
It’s a horrible situation to be in, wanting to offer comfort but being unable to do much. But thankfully he now has a tiny partner in benevolent mischief to help ease the pain and bring a smile on her face.
It’s not the first time he’s done something like this. Whisper some words in Hope’s ear and watch as the little girl helps execute his vision.
“Give your mother a kiss.”
Or
“Can you help your mother clean the toys in your room?”
Or,
“I’ve seen some rather lovely flowers in the garden. Why don’t you make your mother a bouquet?”
Or,
“Please be a dear and give your mother a hug for me, would you?”
She is his little partner in crime.
He might be the mastermind, the brains behind everything but she is his executive. His voice when he can’t speak, his hands when he can’t touch.
Sylvie looks back at her daughter's innocent, joy-filled face and suddenly feels overcome with love.
She blinks back tears blurring her vision.
"Oh sweetie, thank you," she manages to say. Her voice sounds a lot weaker and wobblier than she intended it to be.
Hope’s grin widens, threatening to split her face in two.
The dimpled smile, the crinkles by her eyes…
She’s just so much like Loki.
Sylvie tenderly brushes back a stray lock of the toddler's dark hair and caresses her plump, rosy cheek. The little girl leans into her touch, melting Sylvie’s heart.
The unconditional sparkle of love shining in her little girl's eyes means everything to her.
And Loki’s eyes grace her with that same sparkle.
“Do you like the flowers, Mommy?”
“I love them, baby. They're so beautiful,” Sylvie replies.
Then she’s pulling her daughter into a tight embrace, mindful not to crush the precious bouquets in her hands. She breathes in the sweet, earthy scent of the blossoms mixed with her daughter’s unique one.
She smells like magic and wonder, like stars and infinite possibilities.
If love had a scent, it would be hers.
Sylvie presses a kiss to Hope’s cheek, making the toddler giggle and squirm in her arms.
“Daddy said flowers make you happy.”
“He was absolutely right.” Sylvie says, catching Loki's gaze again with a look of pure, heartfelt gratitude.
“I usually am, yes.” he grins.
The ache to touch him is unbearable.
After a bit of squirming and giggling, Hope manages to worm her way out of Sylvie’s embrace. She dashes off to resume playing with her sand castles.
Sylvie watches her go, and while it’s always such a delight to watch her baby play and have fun, the achy emptiness she feels whenever she’s not in her arms, begins setting in.
She doesn’t just crave to feel Hope in her arms, because she’s a protective mama bear, but also because Hope represents the last physical connection between her and Loki.
It’s not just her daughter she feels whenever she hugs her, she feels Loki too.
And it’s the only way she can feel him nowadays.
Sylvie gazes down at the slightly crushed flowers clasped in her hand, running her fingers over the delicate petals. Then she lifts her eyes back to Loki.
His eyes, as always, are already watching her with that same gentle look in his eyes.
"You know I don't like seeing you sad," he says softly.
Sylvie gives him a small, bittersweet smile, not having the strength to pretend otherwise anymore.
And why should she, when he already knows how she feels. How heavy her heart feels in her chest.
"I know," she whispers, dropping her gaze again. She takes a shaky breath before continuing. "I just...I wish I could touch you right now."
Her voice breaks a little as she says it. More than anything, she aches to reach out and brush her hand against his, to feel the comfort and warmth of his embrace. To feel his breath against her cheek when he talks, the press of his lips against hers. The weight of his hand in hers.
To be able to fix the curls that are falling across his forehead in the same way that Hope’s do, to press a hand against his chest and feel the steady thump-thumping of his heart underneath her palm. To touch his cheek and feel him. So alive and so real.
She hadn’t had nearly enough time to touch him before that option got stolen from her and all she has now are memories of his gntle touch. Of his talented lips against her skin, of his warm breath fanning across her face. Of how unfairly soft his hair truly is. Of the musculature underneath those clothes. Of his unique, intoxicating smell.
It haunts her. Every day, every moment of her life.
She would give just about everything to be able to have one more day with him.
Loki sighs heavily and drops his gaze to his feet nestled in the sand.
It’s so easy to pretend everything is alright, to cling to this bittersweet illusion of happy domesticity just a little longer, but she can feel it starting to slip through her fingers like fine grains of sand.
Time.
They were always running out of time.
Funny that.
They sit in loaded silence for a few moments, both staring out at the sunset painting the sky in brilliant hues of orange and pink. There’s so much Sylvie wants to say, so much dancing on the tip of her tongue but the words stay lodged in her throat.
Finally Loki glances over, his eyes brimming with sorrow and regret.
“It's going to be okay,” he says gently, trying to reassure her even now. Like he always does. “I promise you.”
Hope is hard.
Almost impossible sometimes .
But she will hold onto it with everything she has left in her.
Sylvie nods, blinking back tears at the unfairness of it all.
After everything they had gone through, after finally reconciling and finding some semblance of happiness together, brief as it might have been since they were literally running out of time, one simple twist of cruel fate had torn them apart again.
It wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t!
They had so many things they still needed to discuss. So many things they still wanted to do. So many plans. They were on the brink of something extraordinary, something so utterly new and beautiful.
For once, she allowed herself to let go and fall.
Just to end up being crushed less than an hour later.
As the sun begins its final descent below the horizon, casting a rich golden glow across the beach and she knows it’s time for goodbye, Sylvie’s gaze lands upon the child playing in the sand.
The last good thing she and Loki were able to make together before his sacrifice that day at the TVA.
She will forever be thankful for that pie room.
And what used to be her inability to express her feelings in no other way than physical.
She has changed so much since then. The words, the verbal declarations of love and affection she feels for the two most important people in her life come as easy to her as breathing now.
But that wasn’t always the case.
Which is exactly why and how Hope came to be.
Perhaps it wasn’t the most well thought out idea to defile that stupid pie room, not when everything was falling apart and they risked the chance of someone, likely Mobius, walking in on them, but in hindsight it was the best decision they could have made.
And finding out weeks later that their little encounter in pieland left behind a little unplanned souvenir wasn’t easy either. Especially since Loki was presumed to be dead at the time.
Until he wasn’t.
Until he suddenly showed up at her place like a ghost, freaked out over the news and freaking her out in return.
That was the first time anyone from his circle of friends even found out he was still alive.
He had to explain a couple of things, such as what happened, where he was now, was he suffering and most importantly why bother showing up now.
To say she had been a little angry at first that he had decided to ghost them all, was an understatement. But that anger turned to pity and sorrow when he explained that he had tried to make contact with them many times before, but astral projection from such great distance seemed like an impossible task.
Until it wasn’t.
Until she found out she was pregnant.
Until he found out she was pregnant because apparently, even when gone he had made it his life mission to keep an eye on those that matter most to him.
Until the reaction upon finding out the news gave him enough strength to actually astral project himself in her bathroom, scaring her.
It really, really wasn’t easy.
Her ex-something was now just a ghost, freaking out over her pregnancy while she was freaking out not only over the fact she was pregnant but also because he was there. Alive.
She wanted to grab her TemPad and go to The End Of Time to find a way to help him, but Loki didn’t let her.
He wasn’t in any pain. He was alive, alright. A little lonely. But alright.
It was also his decision and his burden to bear, something that had to be done in order to give everyone a chance.
And while he would have loved to see her face in person again, he didn’t want to expose her to the high levels of radiation surrounding Yggdrasil. Not in her condition.
The conversation that followed was one she never expected to have with him. Or anyone, really.
They had to make a decision regarding their little pieland souvenir. Loki had made it clear he would support her in any decision she made. After all, the truth was that he wouldn’t be able to be there for that child in the way that he, as its father should be.
It would have been selfish, he’d insisted, to sentence a child to that kind of life.
But she also saw the real truth in his eyes.
He wanted it. Selfishness be damned.
He gave up his life, his everything to save everyone. Now he was given this possibility of a gift in the form of something he never expected to happen. It was his last and only chance to have some sort of legacy.
And so, was it truly selfish and wrong to want something?
So Sylvie made the decision. He was going to be a father.
She didn’t think ghosts could cry.
She was wrong.
And so life went on. She carried their child while he kept popping up as much as he could. Sometimes it was once a day, sometimes more, sometimes less. It depended on how busy he was in his tree.
His astral projections became stronger, more stable and he was able to stay with her longer.
It was truly nice to have him around. Even though she could never touch him or feel him.
Just having him around, being able to talk to him, to see him, knowing he was alright and looking after her even when he wasn’t actually there, was enough.
But things became more complicated soon enough.
Soon, talking to him was no longer enough. She wanted more, she craved more.
They were…something. She wanted them to be something more, but that was impossible.
It only became more painful once she went into labor and the child was born.
“Her hair is so soft.” She’d said then, when Hope was born. Loki had shown up the moment she felt the first contraction and made sure to be able to stay there for the entirety of birth. Invisible to everyone but Sylvie. “And you wouldn’t believe how strong of a grip she has.”
It was tough describing things about their child to Loki, when he was supposed to feel them too. He was supposed to hold her. To feel her squeeze her finger. To brush her hair and marvel at its softness.
But he couldn’t.
It hurt him, hurt him more than he would ever admit. And it hurt her too.
But he was also happy. So, so very happy.
He had given everyone a chance and hope, and in return he got his own little Hope.
Turns out raising a baby as a single mom, but also not, is not as difficult as she thought it would be. Loki was present as much as he could be, because even though their situation was unusual, he was determined to be a father.
He never slept so he came in real handy when she dozed off and watched over the baby. And even when he wasn’t around, if Hope felt distressed and Sylvie was asleep, he’d show up, alerting Sylvie.
He was always there.
And now, years, and what probably felt like an eternity to Loki, later, here they are. Together.
“Hope,” Sylvie calls out “come say bye to Daddy.”
The little girl looks up, blissfully unaware of just how bittersweet her life is. Because for Hope, this is normal, this is how she grew up.
She’s used to seeing her Daddy, but not touching him. Used to playing with him, but never giving her toys into his hands so he could play with them too. She’s used to being told bedtime stories, but never being tucked in or kissed goodnight.
And even though they made sure Hope has everything she could ever need, Sylvie's heart aches, knowing their daughter would never be held by her father.
Their daughter comes running from across the beach and nestles herself in Sylvie's lap, facing Loki. Sylvie wraps her arms around the little girl, holding her close as the remaining orange light slowly fades around them.
Loki gives Hope a playful grin.
“Now you be good, okay?”
“I'm always good,” Hope replies with that inherited impish, smile, her bright blue eyes glinting mischievously just like her father's often did.
Once. So long ago.
"Hmm, I’m not sure about that," Loki hums, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Remember, little Lady, I see everything. Every little mischief, every single prank.”
“Nooooo.”
“Oh, yes.” Loki nods, smiling at her theatrics.
“You can look away sometimes.”
“Not a chance.”
She knows he has a busy duty and he’s looking after others too to make sure they are alright, but she also knows that if there’s one person he never takes his eyes off, it’s their little girl.
Hope giggles and dramatically purses her lips, blowing Loki an exaggerated air kiss. He holds out his hand, pretending to catch the invisible kiss before bringing his palm to his chest over his heart.
This was their thing. Their way of expressing love for each other.
“I love you daddy,” Hope says, her voice growing sleepy as she snuggles back further into Sylvie's embrace, her eyes still fixed adoringly on Loki.
Sylvie feels her throat tighten. This part right here never gets easier.
She wants to give her daughter the world, but she can’t give her the one thing she needs the most because her father is quite literally giving her the world, giving her the chance to live at the expense of his own life and freedom and ability to interact with her in the way fathers should.
She blinks back tears and holds Hope a little tighter.
This is the only life Hope has ever known - the love of both parents, but the physical presence and touch of just one.
And it’s killing Sylvie.
“I love you too,” Loki replies tenderly. He mimes blowing a kiss back to Hope, who giggles and pretends to catch it, bringing her small hand over her heart just as he had done.
Loki's gaze shifts to Sylvie, his eyes brimming with longing.
“Both of you…” he adds softly.
Sylvie feels hot tears slip down her cheeks as she tries to stay strong in front of Hope. The last thing she wants is to upset their little girl, who, just like Loki, hates to see her sad.
She meets Loki's pained gaze, seeing her own grief reflected back.
“...same time tomorrow?” she manages to ask, hiding the tremor in her voice.
Loki gives her a sad smile that doesn't reach his eyes.
“Always,” he promises.
And she knows he means it.
Sylvie quickly wipes the tears from her face, though she’s certain their stunningly perceptive Hope has noticed them anyway, just chose not to comment on them this time.
“Bye bye, Daddy,”Hope mumbles, already drifting off to sleep in Sylvie's arms. “See you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, my loves,” Loki replies, his voice fading along with his projection, “Sweet dreams.”
Sylvie closes her eyes, trying to steel her emotions and blink back the tears that still threaten to fall. She can’t look as Loki’s astral projection fades away and instead focuses on holding Hope close, drawing whatever comfort she can from the solid warmth of her daughter's body.
When Sylvie opens her eyes again, the space on the blanket next to her is empty. The beach is empty and dark and still but for the two of them.
Loki is gone - at least physically. But she can still sense his presence surrounding her, feel him all around her in every breeze and every star shining down on them, feel him watching over them protectively even if she can't see him anymore.
Sylvie takes a shaky breath, composing herself before turning to their daughter. Hope is almost asleep in her arms, blissfully oblivious to her mother’s anguish.
How Sylvie wishes Hope could fully experience a father's loving embrace. Nothing’s more heartbreaking than when sometimes – more often than not – Hope asks sadly why daddy can’t hug her.
Why is she the only one whose daddy never hugs her.
Sylvie tries to explain it each time, and Loki does too, but it’s a little difficult for a child of her age to grasp why her daddy can’t be with her.
She just knows it’s because her daddy has a very important job so he’s very busy.
“Come on baby, let's go home,” she murmurs, gently rousing Hope.
The little girl nods sleepily as Sylvie helps her stand up on wobbly legs before changing her mind and lifting her into her arms. Hope immediately nuzzles her face into Sylvie's neck.
Sylvie pauses a moment, gazing up at the dark night sky dotted with glinting stars. She searches the heavens, wishing she could make out Loki's face among them, keeping his watch.
“Can you see the stars, Hope?” Sylvie asks softly.
Hope lifts her head and follows her mother's gaze.
“Pretty,” she says through a yawn.
“Yes, they are,” Sylvie agrees. “And your daddy is up there now, being the brightest one.” She swallows a sob, “shining down on all of us. Making sure we’re all safe and protected and no harm comes our way.”
Hope's eyes widen.
“Like a superhero?”
That brings a bittersweet smile to Sylvie's lips.
"Yes baby, just like a superhero."
“Cool.”
She feels Hope smile against her shoulder at that and then she gazes up at the glittering night sky again.
"I love you," she thinks, hoping somehow Loki can hear her words.
She’s certain he can. He feels and hears everything and everyone now.
Sylvie glances down at Hope's sleepy face.
Feeling the warmth of her daughter in her arms strengthens Sylvie's resolve. They will carry on and be strong, because that's what Loki would want. It's what he does for them every day, watching over his girls from so far away from where he’s supposed to be just to keep them safe.
If he can be strong and withstand isolation and solitude for their sakes, Sylvie can remain resilient for him too.
She continues making her way down the starlit beach, the gentle roll of waves against the shore their only companion. Hope drifts off to sleep in her arms as she walks.
And although sorrow and pain weighs heavy on her heart, Sylvie holds her head high.
Maybe he’s not physically present, but Loki is still with them. One day they will reunite with him again - Sylvie clings fiercely to that hope like a lifeline. They will embrace and kiss and touch, and their little girl will finally, finally be able to snuggle into her father's loving arms.
She will find a way to save Loki from his eternal damnation.
She will find a way to bring him home.
Hope is hard.
But until then, she will remain strong. She will carry the spark of hope Loki gifted them, she will focus on making him proud, raising their daughter with all the love and joy he cannot physically give. She will honor his sacrifice and make him proud each passing day, with each breath of air she inhales, with each step she takes, with each smile she musters up…
She knows he will see every single one of them.
Drawing strength from the promise of reunion and hope , Sylvie continues her walk down the beach toward home.
Loki is always with them, every step of the way.
"I love you."
Sylvie's voice echoes through Loki's mind, stirring him from his meditative state upon the golden throne at the end of time itself. He sits at the very heart of the multiverse, tendrils and branches representing infinite timelines swirling all around him, breathing along with him. His magic flows through them, sustaining life itself across all of existence.
Although Loki's physical form remains eternally frozen in time here, his consciousness transcends all boundaries of time and space. He is everywhere and every when now, connected to trillions of souls across realities. He feels each life, each story unfolding through the strands of time.
Most importantly, he is linked to Sylvie in ways deeper than ever before. He hears her thoughts, feels her emotions as if they are his own.
And when she needs him most, he manifests by her side, easing her burden. Easing both of their burdens.
Always.
Even oceans of time and space apart, their bond remains strong. And if anything, it’s even stronger now.
Loki focuses on that connection now, letting Sylvie's voice wash over him, drawing strength from the love in her unspoken words.
Loki smiles sadly to himself. Although he has accepted his fate trapped here upon this throne, unable to physically interact with the world he wants to interact the most, it still hurts. The loneliness is an ache that never fades. To be separated from the people he loves most...it's a constant torment.
He wishes there could be another way. But he knows this is the only way that keeps Sylvie and Hope safe. And for them he would withstand any pain, any fear, any sacrifice, no matter what.
It could’ve been worse. Much worse.
At least he can still astral project himself to Sylvie and their daughter – their little hope, the one good thing the life gave him. Unexpected plot twist of the story, but one that he loves with every beat of his lonely heart.
He may never again hold them, kiss Sylvie's lips, or ruffle Hope's soft hair. But he can be part of their lives nonetheless, guiding and protecting them from afar.
And as long as Sylvie and Hope live, Loki knows a part of him lives on with them.
Loki takes a deep, steadying breath and focuses his energy on the green branch floating in front of him.
Sylvie's timeline.
He closes his eyes and lets his mind travel across the web of realities, appearing invisible on the moonlit beach where Sylvie walks toward home.
Even though it pains him to not truly be there with them in the way that he wants to be, the sight of their faces sparks an indescribable joy within Loki's lonely heart.
"I'm here," he thinks, hoping they can sense his presence in the gentle crash of waves, the caress of the night breeze, the shine of stars lighting their path. "Always."
They may never see just what exactly he shapes just for them. But it doesn’t matter.
This is Loki's gift - to grant Sylvie and Hope peaceful, happy lives no matter the cost to himself.
At times, the solitude threatens to overwhelm him.
But then he feels Sylvie's love radiating across the multiverse. He sees Hope's carefree smile.
And Loki knows that as long as they live out their full, happy lives, his sacrifice is worth it.
They are the bright spots that make this bearable.
He may be trapped, but Loki still walks beside them in his own way. He whispers words of love and support no one else can hear.
And when they look up at the stars, he knows they know he is watching over them until they can finally reunite.
But for now, this is what he’s doing.
He’s writing their story – a beautiful one, filled with light, joy, safety and love from his distant throne, keeping the darkness and harm at bay and pouring all his hope into their happy ending.