Chapter Text
Chapter 1
The trial was a farce, and they all knew it, yet Odin insisted on carrying it out all the same. Loki offered no resistance, resigned to his fate. No one defended him, and why would they? They had never liked him, never accepted him as he was, and assumed him guilty in all things. Ever since he had shown a proclivity for magic over swordplay, ever since they knew he could shift from male to female at will, he was assumed untrustworthy and freakish. The Liesmith.
Granted, he was at least partially guilty in the attempted take over of Miðgarðr, but the Mad Titan turning his brain into Swiss cheese should count for something; not that he was able to even mention that bit, nor was he inclined to even if he could. Odin could go hang for all he cared, and all of Asgarðr along with him. Thor was speaking now, but why? Oh, right, the great oaf was actually speaking in his defense, so sure that the All-Father would listen to him. Odin had never listened to anyone other than himself for as long as Loki had known him. He took heart that at least his brother in all but blood was by his side, but Loki had no faith in Odin the way Thor did.
“Loki, you have been found guilty of the crimes charged to you.” Odin proclaimed, his voice ringing out over the crowd of onlookers. No faith at all, Loki thought as he sneered though it was unseen behind the muzzle. “For your crimes, you are sentenced to experience a mortal life on Miðgarðr, that you may grow to respect the lives you have tried to conquer. Do you have any final words?”
Loki just looked away.
“Very well.”
…
A father too stubborn to admit his own failings, and a son too tired to continue yielding to his father’s pride. The Norns watched the trial, unseen by all but one. Loki son of Asgarðr stared at them for one long moment, before turning his gaze away in shame, assuming he had disappointed them. His had always been a hard thread to read, Odin having interfered with the weave of Loki’s fate on more than one occasion in his obsession to stave off Ragnarök; as if he understood what that even was. As it was, Odin was getting ready to change Loki’s fate once more, but this time the Norns had had enough, and were now taking measures to repair Loki’s thread.
Death too hung around Loki. After Thanos had taken and tortured Loki to the point where he should have gone mad, it had lit up Loki’s soul enough that Death itself had taken notice. Being beyond Time as it was, it knew this was the moment the Norns would choose what became of him, no matter what Odin tried to do. Maybe…Maybe it could make a request on the god’s behalf. There was nothing left for either of them to lose.
“Please, before you decide his fate, I would make a request of you.” Death begged, floating before them, a spectre in dark cloth. “Something happened, changed, and…The one fated to be my Master was…not born, and it has thrown things out of balance. Surely you have felt it. I would ask that Loki take his place. He could be my Master.”
The Norns look to each other and back again, before Urd asks. “Why does he intrigue you so?”
“His soul shines.” Death tried to explain. “He has the strength. He lasted against the torture of the Mad Titan Thanos, Ebony Maw, and The Other for over a year. He was clever enough to comply with the mind control placed on him, while also finding ways to help others stop him. He could be my Master.”
“What are you suggesting we do?” Verðanði asked, sensing the threads changes already though they had agreed to nothing.
“Odin will force Loki to live a mortal life, but if he does this as he is now, Loki will be taken and locked away, something I am sure Odin knows. Loki will not have the chance to learn the humility Odin claims to want for his son.” Death replied, turning for a moment as if to scowl at the god. “Take his soul when Odin banishes him, send it back to when my Master was to be born. Loki will be safe, at least from Odin, while he goes through the trials needed to test my Master. Odin will not be able to find him till after he has grown to become his own being, whatever that turns out to be.”
“And how do you expect him to remain hidden till he is grown?” Skuld asked, intrigued. “Odin will know what we have done as soon as it happens, and messing with Time usually does not end well. Even if Odin of the past did not sense something amiss, in the past and present there is still Heimdall.”
“There is a secret community of magic users on Miðgarðr, hidden from Odin as a 10th realm.” Death explains with a mischievous lilt to their voice.
“Giving him the strength needed to overcome the will of Gungnir, and hiding him from Heimdall and Odin.” Urd concluded. “This is better than anything we had prepared. I say we do it. We won’t get a better chance than the one that is before us now.”
“Perhaps we should let Loki choose, yes?” Verðanði suggested, and the others looked sheepishly between them. Loki was unfrozen, and surprised by the lack of movement from those around him, when Death removed his muzzle.
“Is Odin’s fate for me so terrible that Death has chosen to spare me of it?” Loki asked in confusion. “Thor managed. What there could be worse than what I have endured already?”
“Thor was not wanted for crimes against an entire planet.” Death pointed out. “Shield would lock you up before you ever had the chance to heal or grow. The Norns were set to intervene, but I asked for a favour, the chance for you to earn your place as my Master. Will you accept?”
“But…” Loki couldn’t process it, and finally settled on the one thing he could. “You know what that would mean! We’d stand no chance!”
“If we were not sending your soul back in time, that would be true.” Skuld pointed out, bringing his attention to her. “You will be sent to a realm Odin does not control, yet still on Miðgarðr.”
“I can scarcely believe it, my lady.” Loki admitted, not wanting to sound ungrateful. It was beyond his imagining. “What realm could exist on Miðgarðr that is beyond Odin’s control?”
“The Seiðr on Miðgarðr hid themselves away, making all but the Fates forget them, in order to save themselves from extinction. They will not remain hidden forever, but by then they will be ready, as will you; should you choose to accept this offer.” Urd continued. “The path to become the Master of Death is not an easy one, and you would not even know you are on it. You could fail, and this could all be for naught. Would you still choose this, knowing what is coming?”
“I can not promise an easy life, but I can promise that you will never be alone, even if it appears that way.” Death informed him.
Loki looked down as he thought about what he wanted. Thanos would come whether he chose this life or not, but what would their chances be if he didn’t at least try? Memories he had not thought about since he’d been freed of Thanos’ control suddenly came springing to his mind. The Seiðr on Miðgarðr, he’d been there before…how had he forgotten?…watching a young witch that had magic almost exactly like his own, even his eyes. He’d been utterly fascinated by someone so much like himself, of the prospect of having family that he could connect with besides his mother.
Unfortunately, he had been unable to determine just how she was connected to him. Unwilling to chance the possibility of Heimdall finding her, and thus bringing her to the attention of Odin, Loki had left after giving her his blessing upon her magic. How ironic that he hadn’t noticed just how closely her magic resembled his own, or that he hadn’t thought of why. She’d resembled him so much that he’d kept going back, trying to figure it out; even when his mind had not been entirely his own, she’d showed up time and time again. Even during the invasion, that fight…to be able to keep up with him the way she had…
It hadn’t dawned on him that the reason why was because she was him. A god unselfishly twice blessed with their own magic? Such a thing had never happened before, and yet the chance to see what would happen was too good to pass up. He looked back up again to the Norns and Death, who were waiting patiently. He knew exactly what he would do, because…he’d already done it, whether they knew it or not. The choice had already been made, and he could not find it within himself to regret giving up everything to make it.
“Can you tell Thor?” Loki asks. He might as well say this while the big golden retriever that was his brother couldn’t hear him; not that it mattered. Though he didn’t know it, one of the Norns already had released Thor for this meeting, so he hears it anyway. “I know that I give him a hard time, but…he is my brother.”
July 31st 1980
Hera Primrose Potter is born blue; literally. It takes a while for her skin to turn the normal colour Caucasian babies tend to be, and she caused the healer to have an extreme case of frostbite before they’d realized it was coming from her. It’s like she had frost giant blood in her veins or something; blood garnet red eyes, blue skin, raised line markings, all that, exactly like the stories. When her skin clears, so too do her eyes, into the most vibrant emerald green they’d ever seen. James figured babies eyes were supposed to be blue for the first little while, but his child was already defying standards.
Of course, she would defy standards! She was his little ball of mischief and chaos, his little blueberry. Lily had pointblank refused to allow him to name the child Loki when they thought it was a boy, but she was against it doubly so now that the sex of the baby was confirmed to be a girl. So Hera it was, in the hopes that she would be both protected and protector, that all who crossed her would fear her wrath and vengeance. Lily gave her the middle name Primrose, to honour her family’s tradition of flower names for their girls, in the hopes it would remind her to cherish whatever happiness she can find in life; no matter what troubles life may bring.