Chapter Text
“Sylvie?” Loki pushed the bathroom door open with his foot and stuck his head outside, the shampoo still on his dripping hands which he was holding over the sink. No answer. Had she heard him?
Finally, Sylvie came around the corner, a kitchen towel in her hands. “Huh?”
The smell of rice and vegetables hung in the air. Admittedly, Sylvie didn’t know a lot about cooking, so Loki had decided to make exactly this his self-assigned task – and show Sylvie what he was doing and how she could do it as well, which she seemed to at least not dislike. Loki liked cooking. And he was quite good at it, although he didn’t remember the last time he had touched a pan before today. His mother had taught him to recognise certain smells, know by the taste of a food which detail it was missing or what was too much, which spices to use and where to find them. Loki himself had had a small garden in Asgard, with not only flowers, but also spices and salad. Oh yes, cooking had always been a little passion of his, although his brother had never understood why. It meant creating something to enjoy and be proud of. And now that he had Sylvie at his side, it also meant showing her how to passionately get to good food without stealing it – and it meant making her happy.
Loki raised his hands at her questioning look. “That’s shampoo. You know that, right?”
She frowned. “Loki… What are you talking about?”
“Look, here.” Did she really not know? “The bottle there, the green one…” He pointed at it. “Refreshing peppermint. That’s for hair, not for hands.”
Sylvie looked at him with wide eyes – and laughed out loud. “I know what shampoo is!” She shook her head, still laughing. “No, I don’t usually have it here to wash my hands, it’s just…” With a sigh, she pointed at the empty soap holder next to the sink. “I often put the soap in the kitchen because I don’t have one there, and since I then often forget to put it back, I have an emergency bottle of shampoo here.” A smirk raised the corners of her mouth as she shrugged. “Just because I’d rather wash my hands with shampoo then not wash them at all.”
Loki must have had an especially funny expression, judging by the look on her face. “What?” she said.
He returned her smirk. “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just glad to hear you have a decent knowledge about different kinds of soap. But… why didn’t you simply get a second soap for your kitchen?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Did you really think I was that prepared for living a normal life? Absolutely not! I took what I found and tried to never visit that shop again – of course, I didn’t have any money to buy my stuff with, so…”
He didn’t like what her unfinished sentence was implying, but except for a quick frown, he didn’t comment on it. Sylvie knew how to get along on her own. He wasn’t going to tell her what she was doing was wrong. She knew stealing wasn’t fun – the same counted for her, anyway; he could see it in her eyes. Sylvie hadn’t done this because she found it fun or to be mean, she had done it to get a few essential things for her new life. Her enchanting skills were probably quite useful there…
“Anyway.” Her smirk returned, but now it was a pained one. “Now, I do have some money. But I was a little busy the past weeks, as you know.” She grimaced. “No time for buying soap or anything like that. Besides, I didn’t really care and never had visitors who could have cared.”
He nodded understandingly. Loki had often watched Sylvie’s chosen timeline, of course, and he had seen that she had got a job at the same fast-food restaurant she had worked for before. Although she got along well with a few colleagues, they weren’t her friends.
Suddenly, an alarmingly acrid smell made its way into Loki’s nose, and the moment he looked at Sylvie and saw the shock in her eyes, he knew she had noticed it as well.
“Oh, shit”, she panted, “that’s the paprika!”
Mobius’ coat was warm, he had to admit that. It was quite ugly, but at least it protected him from the cold rain. The weather really wasn’t on his side today, was it?
He pressed the doorbell’s worn button and shuddered when he moved his toes while he was waiting for an answer. They felt almost frozen! Although he hadn’t been out in the cold for long, just long enough to become very aware of the near winter. Oh, why had he so desperately wanted to walk here from the city centre?
Because you want to imitate being a normal person, Mobius. And you know exactly why.
He told his inner voice to shut the hell up. Right now, he really didn’t need to be reminded of his doubts, the thoughts haunting him every day, thoughts about…
“Hello?”
He jumped a little at Sylvie’s unexpected voice. “Yea, hi, it’s me, Mobius.”
The little speaker above the doorbell was rustling while she wasn’t talking. Mobius was glad when she answered with, “Oh, hi, Moby! Come in.”
A metallic ringing noise made him realise it was time to open the door, which he did, gladly entering the warm apartment building. Sylvie’s was on the second floor, right? He sighed. There was no elevator, anyway. He’d have to walk. And he’d surely notice the bright blue doormat Sylvie had told him about. A colleague at work had gifted it to her for whatever reason.
When he finally found the right door, he knocked and distractedly tugged at the band aid on his head while he waited, listening to the incomprehensible mumbling that came from inside, which was probably Loki and Sylvie talking about the arrival of Sylvie’s first ever visitor – himself – although this exact very first visit after they had tried to get the singer Loki (What had been his stage name again? Something with lobsters, right?) to help them had been unplanned.
The door swung open, and the bad mood Mobius had been in vanished immediately when he saw the grinning Loki standing in front of him with a very burnt paprika in his hands. “Mobius!” he greeted his friends, arms stretched out like getting ready for an embrace, but then Loki seemed to remember the paprika in his hands, so he lowered his arms again. “We’re as good as finished, come inside.”
Loki was waving a towel in front of the oven while Sylvie was running to open the window, still coughing from the smoke which had come out of the oven and right into her face as soon as she had opened it to get the paprika to safety. Well, it had long been too late for that, but it’s the thought that counts.
When she returned to Loki (who was holding the black paprika in the towel) and put her fists on her hips with an unhappy frown, the doorbell rang.
Loki’s eyebrows shot up immediately. “That must be Mobius!”
His joy and excitement smoothed the burnt-paprika-caused wrinkles on her forehead. “Yeah, I’ll open the door for him.” And so she did, going to the door intercom next to her apartment’s entrance and pressing the little button next to the plastic speaker. “Hello?”
A short silence followed before she heard a slightly startled metallic voice answer, “Yea, hi, it’s me, Mobius.”
Of course it was. Still, Sylvie’s answer came out more surprised than intended, “Oh, hi, Moby! Come in.”
Again, she pressed a button on the little white installation and held it down for a few seconds until she was sure Mobius had had enough time to open the door.
Sylvie went back to the kitchen to find Loki waiting for her with a smile, the black paprika still in the towel in his hands.
She raised her eyebrows questioningly. “What?”
“Moby ?” His mischievous, slightly disbelieving and very amused smirk caused an annoying sensation in her stomach – something between nausea and stirring excitement, not uncomfortable but strangely unfamiliar. “Since when do you call him that?”
Sylvie needed to concentrate on holding back the smile that so urgently wanted to sneak onto her face. “It’s not like I’m doing it all the time, but this strange country singer we met called him that and I kinda picked up on it.”
Loki nodded knowingly. “Ah, Northern Lokster. Yes, I remember.”
Wait, what? That wasn’t possible, was it? “What are you talking about, you weren’t there?”
He laughed. “Oh, no, not that, but I saw most of us Lokis on the different timelines.”
Sylvie grimaced as she understood. “Right. The Sometimeses. He probably didn’t get one, either.”
But Loki smirked again. “He’ll be doing quite well in the future, actually.”
That made her stare at him in surprise. “Really?”
Loki already opened his mouth to reveal a witty answer when a knock made him fall silent. For a moment, he looked confused, but then he grinned. “I almost forgot Mobius can’t just come inside if no-one opens the door. Midgardian apartments, you know…”
Sylvie shook her head, smiling teasingly. “Yeah, our precious prince of Asgard doesn’t know stuff like that, got it.”
The look he gave her was somewhere between surprised, irritated and amused. “Hey! That’s not what I meant to say, and you know it!”
Her smile god wide enough to classify as a cheeky grin. “Uh-huh, sure thing. I’m just gonna let him in real quick.”
But Loki raised a hand to stop her. “Wait – you let him into the house, I’ll let him into the apartment.”
She rolled her eyes but shrugged in agreement. So, Loki left the kitchen (still holding that paprika) and opened the door before she heard him greet Mobius.
The kitchen was still smoky when Mobius entered it, but he didn’t comment on it. Nor did he comment on the burnt paprika in Loki’s hands. Or the few vegetables Loki hadn’t needed for his vegetable letcho still laying around in the kitchen. He didn’t seem to mind the little mess. Instead, his grin was almost as wide as Loki’s.
Sylvie greeted him with a smile. “Hey, Moby.”
Mobius greeted her with a laugh in return. “Why the insistence on my new nickname?”
“Well, it’s not that new anymore.”
“Oh, whatever.” He finally took the dark paprika from Loki (who looked at him surprisedly – had he forgotten about the paprika?) and turned to Sylvie. “We’re not gonna eat that. Where’s your trash?”
She pointed to the kitchen sink. “Down there.” Her kitchen sink. She still wasn’t used to calling this apartment and everything inside her own. Or her home.
Maybe that would start to change now that Loki was here… But then again, he probably wouldn’t stay. The TVA still had a not so small number of small but empty apartments and Loki couldn’t keep sleeping on Sylvie’s couch forever. On the other hand, would he even want an apartment at the TVA?
I left the window open because I felt uncomfortable when it was closed and I was alone. It… made me feel trapped… Which is a terrible feeling.
His sudden honesty still sent cold shivers down her spine whenever she thought about their conversation in the morning. What else was there that he was hiding from her? Was he really as okay as he seemed to be – maybe pretended to be?
While Mobius threw away the paprika, Loki took the pan with the letcho and placed it between the plates and glasses on the waiting table, gesturing for Sylvie to take the rice, which she did before she sat down next to Loki. He looked so relaxed, and yet she couldn’t help but wonder what was going on inside his head. Mobius quickly followed and took the seat in front of Loki, leaving the one in front of Sylvie empty – which was planned, there were no dishes for that place.
Loki smiled and opened his arms invitingly. “Let us feast, my friends!”
Sylvie and Mobius must have had the same perplexed expression as they looked at him, judging by his laugh. “I’ve been wanting to say that for a long time now”, he explained. “It’s a common invitation to start eating in Asgard, and I haven’t used it in what feels like an eternity…” He paused, frowning thoughtfully. “Well, it is.” Loki cleared his throat. “Whatever, I hope the food is good.”
Sylvie didn’t even try to hold back her smirk while she put some letcho and rice on her plate, but Loki only rolled his eyes at her in response.
“Anyway”, he sighed, facing Mobius, “we were just talking about Northern Lokster when you came – you remember him, right?”
Mobius laughed. “How could I not? He was truly… special.”
Sylvie scrunched her nose. “You couldn’t be more right about that.”
Loki chose to ignore her comment. “Your visit helped him start a new life and a quite nice future is waiting for him.”
Sylvie looked up from her rice surprisedly, still holding the spoon halfway to her mouth. “Sorry, what?”
Mobius didn’t seem any less surprised and Loki visibly enjoyed their disbelief. “Well. On the timeline you visited, he later makes an effort to turn his life around when his drummer quits, because that leads the rest of the band to quit as well. So, he fires his really not all too pleasant manager, sells most of his belongings to pay back all his depts – which there are plenty of! – and moves to a small Midgardian farm.”
“A farm of all things?” Mobius’ mouth was hanging slightly open in bewilderment.
The food was good, but their interest had suddenly shifted to a very different topic.
Loki smirked. “Oh, yes! And at this very farm, he makes friends with the farmer and his two children and even becomes something like an uncle to them over the years.”
Sylvie frowned sceptically, putting the spoon down on her plate again while Loki contently ate a bean. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same person? The Northern Lokster we met wasn’t nearly socially capable enough for something like that.”
A laugh was her response from Loki. “Well, he’ll come a long way, don’t worry. And as he gets to know the farmer better, he even helps him cope with the loss of his partner, who died at the birth of their last child, and the farmer helps him get a stable life in return.”
Mobius shook his head and exchanged a disbelieving glance with Sylvie. “That can’t be true. He was way too focused on his music!”
Loki’s nod was almost a little impatient. “I know, I know, and they continue making music together, but Northern Lokster changes his style.” He noticed Sylvie’s confused gaze the moment she looked at him and raised his hand defensively before she could object. “Not completely, it’s still country, of course, but it doesn’t sound as full of himself anymore. The melodies become gentler, fiercer, sadder, angrier, happier – in every way more honest. And the lyrics become more meaningful, more real. All while he learns how happy it makes him to write music because he enjoys it instead of writing in a way most people will like.”
That sounded a little more plausible, but still quite unlikely. Loki continued, though, and Sylvie had to admit she was invested in the story. “When Northern Lokster eventually decides it’s time to go back to publishing his music, he knows he now has a wall of support behind his back: the farmer and his family and friends, who needed some time to get along with the new guy, but now see him as a part of their circle. Some people from his old band return, but he also works with new people, some of which he got to know through his friend, the farmer. They give their band a new name – a band name instead of just Northern Lokster. He even decides to drop his old stage name completely.”
Loki’s thoughts were so, so far away – back on his throne, letting his mind wander the timelines. His eyes had an alarming green glow, but they were also sparkling, which had to at least not be bad – right? He seemed so lost in his and her variant’s story. Sylvie couldn’t help the worried frown settling on her face, but she let Loki continue talking. As long as he didn’t lose himself in the tight web of stories that was inevitably clinging to him after his time as the multiverse’s power source, he’d be fine. Or at least she hoped so.
A small, dreamy smirk lifted the corner of Loki’s mouth as he continued. “More confident than ever before, the singing Loki releases a new album with his new band and a new publisher and stays his own manager, although a new band member helps him with that. Her name is Silver, and although she seems a little familiar, he just can’t remember where he has seen her before…” His gaze settled on Sylvie for a moment, but he wasn’t really looking at her, more through her. Still – she got the message. This Silver was probably a variant of Sylvie (although she wasn’t sure that was possible since that would have made this timeline the home of two Loki variants) and possibly looked a little like her. Or a lot.
“The years go by, and his new style of music starts out a lot less popular than what he published before, but he doesn’t mind. He and his band mates give concerts in pubs and parks, on weddings and funerals, in hospitals and retirement homes. They don’t become rich from that, but they have fun and enjoy their life. And after a few years, they suddenly take off. One number one hit follows the next and instead of playing at birthday parties with sixty people, where only four have heard of them before, they suddenly fill out entire stadiums again, and it doesn’t take them long to break every record he made as Northern Lokster.”
Mobius breathed a disbelieving laugh, loud enough for Sylvie to notice, but not to get through to Loki.
“Although the singing god is loved and famous now, although his band goes on world tours and although he’s rich enough to buy a villa in Hollywood, he decides to stay at the small farm – stay with his friends, his found family. Understandable, isn’t it? And after some consideration – well, a lot of consideration, actually – Silver joins him there. Oh, and by the way: The farmer’s children’s names are Keela and Seanna. Two very mischievous girls. And the farmer’s name is Donald.”
With his last words, he let his eyes find Mobius, but Sylvie was quite sure Loki didn’t see him either, just like her before. It made her freeze how much Loki had zoned out. Was he even still there? His eyes hadn’t lost their greenish glow… Below the table, she carefully put a hand on his leg, but he only blinked in response before his gaze started to wander around the room again.
Sylvie exchanged another glance with Mobius, this time a worried one. He finally had noticed as well how absent Loki was.
“Loki?” Sylvie tried to catch his gaze, but Loki didn’t even seem to hear her. While Mobius still tried to get him back by talking, she frowned determinedly and raised her hands to gently but firmly turn his face to look at her. “Loki, can you see me? It’s Sylvie, you know, and I’d appreciate if you’d answer within the next seconds, not weeks later. We don’t have that much time. We wanna visit Aturi later, remember?”
Slowly, his eyes found their way back to her face. And suddenly, their glow disappeared as they widened in shock while Loki turned as pale as the wall behind him. “Oh no.”
She later couldn’t say if it was his scared look, his white face, his terrified whisper or the fact that he suddenly tipped forward – but whatever it was that made her realise he was close to fainting, she immediately grabbed Loki’s shoulders to hold him upright while Mobius got to his feet and ran around the table to help. Together, they carried Loki to Sylvie’s sofa, where he leaned against the backrest and Sylvie, who had taken a seat next to him to make sure he wouldn’t pass out and fall off the sofa.
“Easy now”, she heard Mobius say while he crouched down in front of them, placing a hand on Loki’s knee. Half of his worried frown was covered by the white band aid he was wearing. Concerningly enough, it wasn’t much brighter than Loki’s face…
Sylvie just shot Mobius a quick look, nothing more. She only had eyes for Loki – worried eyes, that is. “What in the name of all stars was that?” She was surprised by how gentle her voice sounded.
Loki pressed his (concerningly pale) lips together until they formed a thin, white line and closed his eyes, slowly breathing in… and out.
“I…” When he opened his eyes again, he finally looked at Sylvie, but it didn’t comfort her. Quite the opposite, actually. Where had the all-consuming exhaustion come from so suddenly, the pain and the dread? Where had his joy gone and the relief of finally being around his friends again? He was looking at her with the eyes of a person who had seen too much of the world – too much of an infinite number of worlds.
It was at this moment that Sylvie realised they still had a very long way to go before Loki would actually be okay. Sure, getting him onto the timelines and away from his throne had been a good and inevitable first step – but it was only the first. He wasn’t physically sitting on the throne anymore, but his mind was still there, at the end of all time, where the citadel Sylvie had killed He Who Remains in had once stood. And who knew how long it would take for Loki to get his mind away from that place, too – if it even was possible at all.
“I-I was – back there, at the end of time, among all these stories, all these…” He looked down at his hands in his lap. They were shaking – barely enough to see, but they were shaking. “…fates.”
From the corner of her eyes, Sylvie saw Mobius softly squeeze Loki’s knee. Had he realised as well? Probably. After all, he had known Loki before Sylvie, and they were extremely close friends. “Okay, well… Maybe you had a flashback or something. That can happen. It’s…” He sighed apologizingly, as if the words he was about to say were caused by his wrongs. “Well, it’s not good, but it’s nothing you have to be afraid of.”
Loki met his eyes and very slowly shook his head. “No. You don’t understand… I was there. I was sitting on my throne again and I was bound to the timelines around me, they were absorbing my energy…”
When he paused, seemingly unable to continue, Sylvie carefully asked, “But you were here – with us. How could you be there when you really were here?”
He didn’t look at her when he answered. “I don’t know.”
Silence.
He didn’t know. What else was there to say?
“I only know I was there, but I was also here.” Now, he looked up, his gaze a little less terrified than before and instead more thoughtful. “It was like a thin embroidered curtain right in front of my eyes, one reality on top of the other, both true at the same time, both faded, both not present enough to say which one was more real.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut. “This doesn’t make any sense, does it?”
Mobius exchanged a confused glance with Sylvie before turning back to Loki and carefully saying, “Not yet, but maybe it’s just a matter of time.”
Loki snorted. “Of course it is.” He opened his eyes again. “Why does everything always depend on time?”
Sylvie didn’t know an answer to that, and judging by Mobius’ expression, the same counted for him. He tried an uplifting smile. “Would be boring if it didn’t, right?”
Loki frowned at him. He didn’t laugh, but he didn’t object either. Frankly, he looked too tired to object.
Sylvie knew his answer before she asked. “Maybe we should visit Aturi tomorrow?”
Loki vigorously shook his head. “Absolutely not. I’m fine. I just…” He vaguely twirled his finger in the air. “…was a little overwhelmed by all the realities stuck in my head.”
“But they’re there now, they’ll stay stuck in your head.” Mobius’ hand was still laying on Loki’s knee, maybe because he had forgotten about it, maybe to support what he was saying, maybe to calm his friend – Sylvie had no idea, but she nodded in agreement.
“What if you have such a breakdown when we’re on Aturi’s timeline?” She tried her best not to sound too worried.
Loki sighed heavily. “Well, I will try not to.”
With that, the conversation seemed over from his side. Of course. Loki was here now. That was awesome for him, for Sylvie, for Mobius, for all his friends. But his time on that cursed throne at the end of time had changed him – probably most of all, it had weakened him. Being a living power source for literally all of life is straining and inevitably leaves more than just a trace. And Loki was still Loki. He didn’t want to admit weakness to himself or anyone else – just like Sylvie. Instead, he probably would have liked to just continue living his life and was frustrated that didn’t work, which she could understand very well, but it worried her.
He seemed to want to stand up, but Mobius squeezed his knee so tightly his knuckles turned white, preventing Loki from getting to his feet. “Sure, whatever you say, but not now.”
Loki’s expression was that of a scolded child. “What? What are you talking about, I’m perfectly fine.”
Mobius firmly shook his head. “You’re still as pale as a raw chicken, Loki, you’re not going anywhere.”
To Sylvie’s (admittedly great) surprise, Loki gave up arguing with an annoyed sigh and leaned back again. “Fine. The food is turning cold, though. Am I at least allowed to go back to the table? We should eat something before we leave.”
Mobius nodded with a shrug. “Sure, why not.” So, he got up and sat down, waiting for Loki and Sylvie to join him.
Sylvie questioningly turned to Loki, who was staring at his hands with a bitter expression until he caught her gaze and held it.
And that was when she saw what she had always laughed about.
Yes, Loki was tired, exhausted even, and of course, surrounded by the people he was closest with, he wasn’t trying to be imposing in any way. His eyes weren’t glowing, he didn’t have his knives out, there was no magical light in his palms, he wasn’t even wearing something impressive, just plain khaki trousers and a dark green, long-sleeved shirt. Even the neatly combed back hair Sylvie had first seen on him was now framing his face in loose strands, some of them adorably curly. No crown, no horns, no throne – nothing.
But right then and there, he was a god.
His aura, the strength behind his tiredness, the everlasting endurance masked by a gentle smile.
The Asgardian trickster god of mischief… of lies and evil… of fire, deception and transformation… the god of chaos… of myths and legends…
God of stories.
I like this title. ‘God of stories.’ It’s very poetic.
Sylvie gulped down an emotion she had never felt before when looking at another person. She was impressed, amazed, intimidated – and proud.
A smile that warmed her heart and spread through her entire body settled on her face. “Shall I…?” She held out a hand and after a moment of hesitation, Loki took it.
“Thanks.”
He was a god.
And although she didn’t feel like one, she was a goddess.
She pulled him to his feet, and they took their places at the dining table in front of Mobius before they continued eating lunch – or at least poking their rice and vegetables for a while until all three of them had had enough.
So, they cleared the table and got ready to leave.
Loki wanted a life, so he would go outside and get it, no matter how tired he was, no matter what his friends said. Sylvie knew that. Mobius knew it too. And Loki, maybe for the first time ever, knew for sure that there were two people who would support him and be there for him whatever he would choose to do next.
When Sylvie took position to activate her TemPad, Loki and Mobius stood right and left of her. She exchanged a look with both of them before she pressed on the little disk on her wrist and made a time door appear in front of them.
Mobius was the first to walk through. Before he did, he turned around one last time with a conspiratorial expression. “You know, I have a feeling this visit won’t be over all that soon, so it’s good we just had lunch. And the letcho was really good, by the way.” He winked.
Loki let out a quiet laugh and offered his friend a smile. “Thank you.”
Mobius nodded contently, turned around and was swallowed by the orange.
Sylvie frowned at Loki in one last attempt to make him consider his choice. “You’re sure you wanna do that right now? We can tell Aturi we made it without taking you with us as some kind of proof if you’d rather take a rest.”
His smile changed from sweet to certain. “I am.” In his eyes, though, she found the heartwarming gentleness she had often longed for while he had been gone. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. Really. And if you go…” He grinned slyly. “I go.”
You go, I go.
For a moment, Sylvie felt a sting shoot though her heart – like a needle reminding her of what she had lost when she had lost him. But he was here now. He wasn’t lost, wasn’t gone. Not anymore. And wherever she would go, he would go.
Instead of sighing and shrugging, which would have been the planned reaction, Sylvie smiled fondly and gestured for Loki to go first – which he did, his eyes glued on her until he disappeared behind the time door.
And she followed.