Work Text:
Sentiment
Loki sees his future children in a vision upon the verge of oncoming death. Thanos had promised that, were Loki to fail, he would wish for something as sweet as pain.
He wished for it now. He might have even begged Thanos to kill him. Anything to stop the images flooding his mind of a life he would never have.
The visions were incredible…and completely impossible. The echo of Thanos' laughter rang in his head, telling him that he had destroyed any chance of it ever happening by warring against the humans and failing.
The sweet smile of a woman flooded his mind. She was human…and vaguely familiar. Dark curtains of wavy brunette hair framed a lovely face with plump pink lips and wide blue eyes. She was looking at him as if she knew him…and loved him. This thought took his breath away in more ways than any searing blade or ravaging claw digging into his bloody wounds ever could.
They were in what looked like a park on the realm of Midgard. She was leaning against a strange shiny blue column, laughing at something, as they stood very close. Her body language and the way she looked at him suggested that they were intimate. Lovers. Out enjoying the sunny day on her realm.
There was a streak of movement out of the corner of his eye, and the woman beside him looked toward it, her breathtaking smile growing almost impossibly wider at whatever had stolen her attention.
He followed her gaze, wondering idly what had made her so happy…only to completely freeze at the sight before him.
Attached to the strange blue column were metal links and seats, and in those seats swung two small children — a girl and a boy. What froze him was their unmistakable resemblance to the woman…and to him.
They looked to be around the ages of four or five, and something innate inside of him supplied him with the knowledge that they were twins…and his.
He was their father.
He felt the urge to drop to his knees and stare in awe but the vision did not allow it. Instead, he drank them in.
His eyes first took in the girl. His daughter. There was no denying that she was anything but his. Her young, unblemished skin was the color of winter frost — a snowy white tinged blue. An overwhelming feeling filled him as the knowledge pressed in that she shared the Frost Giant blood that ran through his veins…and she was beautiful. None of the shame he felt for his own Jotun form extended to her. Everything about her, from her wavy black hair, to her wide emerald green eyes, to her full pink lips, and, yes, even her light blue skin, was absolutely perfect. A mischievous little smile curled lips that looked so much like her mother's, and she swung higher and higher.
"Blay Marie," the woman next to him called out warningly. She spoke with the accent of an American Midgardian. He found himself entranced by the motherly concern in her eyes as she looked at their daughter. "Do not jump from that swing. You're too little. You'll hurt yourself."
"But Mu-uuuuummy," the little girl lisped. He grinned at hearing the little girl using his accent… Although her speech was hindered by the fact that her two front teeth were missing. He didn't know how he knew it, but the knowledge came to him that the little girl was very active and had knocked her front baby teeth loose a few times before they had finally just fallen out, much to her mother's chagrin.
He was brought out of his musings by his daughter's voice continuing to speak. "I won't get hurt. I promise. Look!" she screeched in laughter, right before she was soaring through the air and landing on her feet.
"Blay!" the woman called out, running over to her to check that she was alright. "I swear you're just like your father!" she said, as soon as she found Blay to be just fine. The woman sent a glare over at Loki, but it held an affection that warmed him. He found himself naturally shrugging with a smile, before he turned his attention to take his son in.
The boy was quieter than the girl. He had the same fair complexion as his mother, and an untidy mop of dark brown hair which had a reddish tint to it in the sun. What he had inherited from Loki were his eyes. They were Jotun red. He slowly stopped swinging, looking shyly at Loki. "…Dad?"
"Yes, son?" Loki asked, feeling mesmerized by the admiration in the young boy's bright red eyes. Loki straightened his posture, getting the distinct feeling that his son emulated him above all others as a role model. Loki found that he wanted to be the best version of himself that he could possibly be just so that his son would always look at him that way. This information hurt more than the dagger that Thanos was currently slicing along his right side.
"Can we run together?"
Loki stared questioningly at his son. An impish grin lifted the boy's lips and suddenly he was changing shape. The reddish-brown hair on his head was extending and becoming fur. His bright red eyes were becoming more almond shaped and animalistic. He had turned into a young wolf! Loki stared in awe as his wolf-son darted off into a grassy field at the park's edge.
"No fair!" came a petulant shriek from Blay. Loki ripped his attention away from the amazing sight of seeing his shapeshifter son to see his daughter crossing her skinny little arms over her flat little chest and sticking out her plump bottom lip. Loki knew that look of jealousy only too well. It had been on his own face many a time as he looked at Thor. "How come I can't turn into a wolf like Roan?"
"Because you're enough trouble as it is!" the mother of his children said playfully, scooping up Blay from behind and twirling her around. The little frost girl fell into shrieks and giggles, telling her mum to twirl her faster.
"Loki," the woman said with a breathless smile as she continued to play with Blay. By the Gods, he wished he could know her name. "Will you go run with Roan? I don't like him being by himself out there, especially while he's shapeshifted."
Loki nodded his head, staring in wonder at this woman who accepted his children for what they were and didn't see them as monsters. He could love her, passionately and unconditionally, given the chance. He could have had this life and this family if he had made the right choices. This information seared him with just as much white-hot agonizing pain as the knife that Thanos brutally stabbed into his gut at that moment.
He fell out of the vision, feeling cold and suddenly empty, like everything bright and good had been ripped away from him. "What's her name?" he croaked out through the pain, a trickle of blood bubbling up his throat.
Thanos smiled darkly at him and twisted the dagger in his flesh. "What would be more cruel, letting you die with her name on your lips or letting you die never knowing it?"
Loki choked on his own blood. "To die knowing her name shall be more cruel, I am sure, for I would die knowing what I could truly never have… However, if it's all the same to you, I'd like to know anyway."
"What sentiment," Thanos said piteously, his lip curling in disgust. Loki managed the wisp of a defiant smile. Thanos had tried so creatively to torture the sentimentality out of Loki when conditioning him to take over Earth. How disappointed in him he must be that he could not fully eradicate it. "Her name is Darcy Lewis."
"Darcy Lewis," Loki whispered, letting the name wash over him. He closed his eyes. When he reopened them, they were Jotun red. He let his hand form into an ice spear. "Thank you," he said, as he stabbed Thanos through the heart.
Thanos' biggest mistake was thinking that Loki's sentiment was a weakness.
Fin.