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Chapter Text

He was right in front of her. Dark cascades of hair tumbling down the horned helm and around his shoulders as he sat languidly on the black throne as if it was his life’s purpose.

He thought it was.

She thought otherwise.

He hadn’t seen her yet, his eerie green eyes transfixed on one of the glowing branches grasped in his pale hand. The tendrils groping out from his body formed a wall behind him on the obsidian dais, where there was only room for his black throne, the trails of timelines seeping from his robes, and the TimeDoor Renslayer had opened behind him.

She advanced on him slowly, warily, one hand gripping the Variant’s stolen machete. He hadn’t seen her still, his lips parted and moving slightly as his eyes flickered back and forth across the timeline gripped in his left hand, like he was reading text.

Could this be her chance?

She adjusted her holding on the machete. Right there, she could kill him—topple his self-proclaimed, narcissistic throne—save the TVA from letting chaos become an omnipresent ruler.

No, best she not kill him. She needed his magic, not necessarily on the throne, but he was a key point in her plan.

She’ll just show him he’s not in charge.

He was right before her now, she stood behind to the throne like a king’s advisor, one hand gripping the top of the obsidian chair and the other bringing the machete up toward his body, a scorpion raring to strike.

For He Who Remains.

For the master plan he crafted.

She plunged the blade into his shoulder with a sickening crunch and he gave a cry, snapping out of his stupor and hands twitching but refusing to let go of the bundle of timelines. He looked around wildly and his eyes landed on Renslayer, her curled hair wild around her shoulders and the ends of her white skirt torn and frayed. She sneered at him and dug the blade in further. He yelled in pain and tried to twist away, his hands still refusing to free themselves of their hold on the branches.

She needed him to let go.

She yanked the blade out, he grunted, and pushed him forward hard with her foot. He toppled out of the throne onto the inky dais, clutching his shoulder as he fell to the ground. The timelines were ripped from his hands and began to snake backward, away from the throne into the swirling mess of branches weaved into the wall.

“Ravonnah?” He gasped, trying to stand. “What are you-“

Renslayer pulled out her TemPad, cold metal warmed by her pocket as she flipped it open. “It’s time for a revolution, Loki. Kings can’t last forever.”

She walked forward, down the steps of the dais, dropping the machete onto the throne as she walked. It clattered onto the seat of the chair, the blade stained with red blood.

Loki’s helmet had fallen off in his sudden exit and he grunted, holding his shoulder with a twitching hand and trying to get on his knees. His robes, some Asgardian design, pooled around him like ink.

“For all time.”

She kicked him in the side and he curled into himself with a gasp. Pathetic.

“Always.”

She hit a button on the TemPad—an orange portal appeared behind the crumpled god like a trapdoor—and she kicked him hard.
He disappeared from view with a yell, and the portal snapped up like jaws behind him.

Renslayer turned triumphantly to the empty dais.

Her eyes widened.

The branches were still glowing.

Chapter Text

Loki ate dirt. 

Quite literally. 

He was well aware of the true meaning of the Midgardian phrase, but for all he cared, there was the definite flavor of earth permeating his tongue as he lay on the earth. 

Earth?

Ground? 

Whatever he had landed on, it hurt like fucking Hel—but possibly that was just the life bleeding slowly out of his shoulder, by lieu of a very considerate Ravonnah Renslayer. 

Fuck.

Renslayer.

He pushed himself up with a grunt, sucking in his teeth as the pain in his shoulder spasmed, almost to an unbearable level. After a moment of quiet consideration—all he really wanted to do was lay there, immobile in the dirt—he managed to roll over onto his back with a weak groan. 

The scree of seagulls flapped over his head, mixed with the melody of rushing waves against sand and thumping of floorboards. Above was the brilliant azure of an empty blue sky—when was the last time he had seen a blue sky? Not since McDonalds, or even before. He had lost track of all the times he had gone back and forth from the TVA and the fast-food restaurant, hoping for a different ending for the same doomed tale. 

It was about to be doomed again if he didn’t get up—but his body was spent and his shoulder was reaching a level of pain that permeated the rest of his limbs.

Another thump landed right next to his head, and a face peered over him, tanned and silhouetted by neat dark braids. 

“Lackey?” They said, their voice decidedly feminine and aghast with shock. 

“Loki.” Loki murmured, correcting her without realizing it. He closed his eyes again, the sunshine beginning to hurt his vision. “Pardon me…I don’t seem to know you. Remind me of your name?”

“It’s me, Valkyrie—Loki, you know me. I saved your life. Years ago.”

“Oh.” Loki hummed listlessly. He felt vaguely guilty that he couldn’t recollect them—then again, wherever he was could be anywhere, on any timeline possible. This person may even be lying, or for all the Norns—have some ridiculously long past with him that he didn’t remember. “Delighted to meet you.” 

“What the—Loki, how are you alive?”

His head dipped to the side, and it made his brain feel like it was doing a dive in those strange international sports events the Midgardians seemed to like so much—the Olympics? “That’s a good question. Where am I?”

“New Asgard, the docks, you just appeared in front of me out of the sky—did you teleport—Loki.” She said again, more firmly, as his view went sideways. Loki really wished he knew her, but his shoulder had begun to ache and burn, and try as he might—he didn’t think he’d ever met her. “Loki, you’ve been dead for the past six years—what are you doing here? Thor’s gonna be furious!”

“Thor’s here?” Loki mumbled. Possibly it was his Thor, his universe’s adoptive brother, but there was no reason to get his hopes up. 

“Well no, he’s on Xandar’s ruins with Love, trying to help a farming village.” She corrected herself, and from behind Loki’s semi-closed eyelids, he could see her scanning his form in obvious distress. 

Who was Love? Huh. Probably not super important. 

“Loki, you are not okay. What happened to you?” 

“Got…stabbed.” He was beginning to list off, and heard her snort. 

“Yeah, that much is obvious. We need to patch you up—I’ll probably ask you more when you’re not on the brink of bloody death.” 

He likely needed a tad more than patching, the draining blood from his arm was making him light-headed. “M’kay.” 

“Sorry about this.”

Then there was a hand under his back and suddenly he was lifted into a standing position, one hand firmly holding his arm around Valkyrie’s shoulder and the other around his waist, desperately trying to get him to walk with assistance. The woman—Valkyrie—had a surprisingly strong grip and he found himself sinking into her as his head fogged up with delayed-reaction dizziness. She managed to get him into a semi-solid stance with a hard grip on his side to keep him from keeling over. 

“Loki?”

“Hmm?” 

They had begun to walk, every step clouding Loki’s brain with pain and his vision fogged by semi-consciousness. He didn’t exactly register their surroundings, only a faint smell of fish and saltwater—combined with a rusty alcohol from the woman next to him. 

Around them was what he thought was a bustling Midgardian fishing village, 

“Are you sure you don’t remember me at all?” She said, voice bordering on concern. 

“I’m…” He dipped slightly and she grunted as she managed to support his failing body. “I’m fairly sure I don’t remember knowing you in this lifetime. I apologize.”

“And you’re apologizing for something too, that’s so not Loki.” She muttered. Then she puttered to a stop. 

“Wait, this lifetime?” 

Loki blinked for a moment, spots swimming in his vision, much too fatigued to elaborate. But he tried anyway. “Safe to—ugh—to say, I’m not exactly from this universe—I think.”

It could be his, probably. But his true timeline had been pruned long ago. 

“You think?” 

“I don’t remember.” He realized, and his mind began to fill with rising panic. “I don’t remember where I fell, or what happened after Ravonnah—I don’t know happened to the tree—“

“Loki—“

“I don’t know—I need Mobius or B-15, I need to find a way back to the timelines and get it back—“

“Woah, okay, okay.” Valkyrie warned him, just when he realized that the more he had been rambling, the more unstable he had become. “I don’t know who this Mobius is—“

Loki twitched. Oh Norns, was Mobius okay?

“—or something about a tree, but you can tell me when you’re patched up.” 

“I need to leave, I need to get back—“

“Get back? Get back where?” She protested. “I haven’t seen you in six years, not since Thor told me you had been killed. And obviously you didn’t get killed, seeing as you’re right here—“

“I did.” He said, realization dawning. 

“What?”

“I did get killed. By…Thanos, right?” The Titan’s name once evoked a sense of fear in him so deep and profound that he couldn’t think of anything else, but after he united the timelines, after all he had seen, he hardly felt a fear of his predicted murderer. A moment ago, he could rip the Titan from the timelines with a blink of his eye. 

“…y-yeah?” She was staring at him now, and when she realized they had stopped walking, she resumed their pace. 

“Right. I forgot.” He murmured, knees getting weaker by the moment. “I haven’t checked on this line in a while.”

“You forgot?”

“A bit preoccupied protecting the…multiverse and redirecting the flow o’ time.” His words became more slurred as his brain fuzzed up. The wound in his shoulder had reached a critical amount of pain. “And watching…hmm…watching my friends.”

“Friends?”

“Time for a revolution, Loki. Kings can’t last forever.”

His eyes widened and his gut sank. “Shit.” He hissed with all the horror his weak body could muster.

“What? What’s ‘shit’?” 

Ravonnah would go after the TVA—after Ouroborous and B-15 and Mobius. She’d tear down everything that he gave up to protect. 

“I need to get back, now.” 

With a strained grunt, he pushed off of Valkyrie and managed to keep himself upright for long enough to put his hands out in front of him—he channeled a surge of seidr, magical energy, into his core and out the tips of his fingers—perhaps he could grab a rope of timeline and yank himself into the TVA—

There was a tightening in his core, the spark of green that should have landed in his palms disappeared with a snap, and his knees buckled. 

“Loki!”

Ah.

He felt a hand around his mid-cage just as he dropped to the ground, and two hands pulled him upright. The arm resumed its spot at his shoulder, but only long enough to redirect him to a bench and let his legs collapse against it. He leaned his head back, succumbing to the exhaustion of his body. 

Why couldn’t he leave? Why couldn’t he use magic?

He was dimly aware of Valkyrie asking him fast-paced questions, so he strained an ear to listen to her.

“Did you just try to use magic—Loki listen to me, don’t pass out—I don’t knowing what your deal is, but you’re not allowed to use any more energy until we get you fixed and contact your brother—the Allfather knows how elated Thor’s gonna be when he finds out—“

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t tell Thor I’m alive.” He said quietly. 

“Why not?” She demanded, and Loki got the feeling that she was an extraordinarily bossy person. “He misses you, Loki, more than you or I can say. And all that time he spent in the cabin, drinking his life away did things to him—“

“Spent time in the what?” Perhaps Loki was wrong, this didn’t sound like his Thor at all. 

“You died and he blamed himself, Loki.” That sounded more like Thor, actually. “A lot of people died. You don’t remember Thanos killing you, but do you remember him killing practically everyone else?”

“The Snap. Right.” Loki mused lightheadedly. “An important canon point for a lot of timelines.”

“I didn’t understand any of that,” Valkyrie said. “But we’re going to interrogate you about it later.”

“Do you have a nickname?” Loki asked, now curious. He was fairly sure this was what being drunk feels like, but he hadn’t been drunk in centuries (no, he was drunk on the train on Lamentis) and having such a lack of filter to everything he said was simultaneously relieving and terrifying. So was the growing bloodstain on his robes. It was probably worse than it looked, seeing as his outfit was black and tended not to show a lot (pro tip for battles, never wear white, not only do you look like a prat, they certainly won’t stay that color).

She looked surprised. “No, I—Valkyrie is more of a job title. It’s funny you should ask me that, you never did before.”

“Old me sounds boring.” Loki drolled, tipping his head back. There were some interesting spots on the edges of his vision and he wanted to see them better, they looked fun. 

“Old you was rather boring, I guess.” She huffed a laugh. “You mostly hung around, accosted me for stealing booze, and sat in the Grandmaster’s lap when he was bored. And then you mostly hung around, accosted me for stealing booze, and sat in the throne chair on the Statesman when you were bored.” 

“And then I died.” He summarized. He vaguely remembered that.

“And then you died.” She agreed. And then suddenly, he was upright and he didn’t know how until he realized that she had grabbed him and pulled him into a crushing hug. “Loki—Norns, everyone thought you were dead, Thor is going to kill you—“

“Seems a bit redundant, doesn’t it?” Loki noted, and made a squeaky noise when the hug jostled his ribs and shoulder. She let go, remembered he was injured guiltily, and immediately stabilized him when he started to tip over. 

“Okay, yeah, you need help.” She said.

“I need help,” He agreed, and he keeled over sideways, his vision turning black before he reached the ground. 

Chapter Text

There was a dead man eating ice cream and reading in her living room. 

That wasn’t technically the problem, him eating ice cream (even if it was her last bucket), or him reading (it was that one book by Scott Lang, and she wasn’t entirely sure it was accurate in its summary of all that the reincarnated god had missed) but the fact that he wasn’t supposed to be alive. 

And that he wholeheartedly agreed. 

“Oh, no.” He said cheerily as he rummaged through her freezer for otter pops. “I'm definitely not supposed to be here. It might make your universe collapse.” 

“And you’re—you’re fine with this? You seem remarkably cheery.” She frowned at him as he found the box of frozen popsicles and meticulously took out every single grape one to drop them back in the freezer. 

He took his looted ice treats back to the couch. “Oh, I’m just trying not to collapse in a ball of panic so I can figure out how to fix this.” He gave a slightly manic bite of laughter and put two lime ice pops in his mouth at the same time. “I’m also hungry and I thought it would be nice to have some food before I go murder a woman who now controls all of time.”

Valkyrie nodded vaguely, and went to go get coffee and try to convince herself that this wasn’t the weirdest thing she’d ever seen. 

She sat at the bartop with a cup of poorly-ground black coffee (courtesy of Thor, the exact opposite of a coffee connoisseur, she once caught him almost eating the beans by themselves) and watched Loki. 

By the time he had woken up, Val had managed to get most of the bleeding from his shoulder under control, and his tattered set of green-ish robes were hanging on the drying rack in the laundry room. He was now wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants (hers) that were the only things that fit him, and one of Thor’s shirts. It had a cat on the front with its head stuck in a piece of toast. 

His hair was shorter, which was odd to her. It was curly and healthy, which was definitely very odd to her. Although he seemed a little kooky, kept massaging his hands for whatever reason, and mumbled under his breath if he found something in the novel to his interest, there was this strange underlayer of wistfulness. His eyes crinkled at the edges in sadness whenever he spaced out (which was often). 

Weird. 

This whole shebang was weird. 

Loki glanced up after a moment and caught her looking at him. 

“What?” He asked. 

“Nothing.” 

“It’s clearly not nothing, you’ve been staring at me for a good five minutes.”

Had she? “No, I haven’t.” 

He sent her a dubious look, somewhat dampened by the fact that his lips were tinged with strawberry popsicles. 

She sighed into her coffee and dropped her head onto the counter. “Let me call Thor.” 

“No.”

“Why not?” 

“Because I asked nicely.” He said dryly. 

It was concerning that she was more relieved when he was an asshole than whatever else this was that was going on. It felt more like Old Loki. “Well now I’m asking you nicely. Let me call Thor, he’s going to explode from excitement.” 

“You told me an hour ago that he was going to kill me.“

She took a sip of coffee instead of strangling him. “I only said that because I was going to kill you at the time. He’ll be elated.” 

“I doubt that.” Loki said ruefully, and he picked another popsicle out of the box. He was sitting cross-legged on the couch cushion with the popsicles in his lap, the book balanced precariously on one knee. “How do you know Thor, anyways?”

“I sold him to the maniac leader of a gladiator tournament and his junk planet for a pile of gold.” 

Loki’s face went pale. “You what?” 

“And then I saved him. You helped somewhat, and then you tried to sell him back and ended up taking all three of us and a couple of Thor’s friends to go kill your big sister and burn down Asgard.” 

“Big sister?” She heard him mutter under his breath. He looked back up at her. “What happened to Asgard?” 

“Oh, now you care.” She said, smiling slyly and making him glare at her. “It’s fine, don’t worry. Ish. We got out a bunch of refugees and the ones that weren’t killed by Thanos made it to Midgard. Now we have a settlement here.”

“Let me guess,” He said dryly. “Thor was made king?”

“No, actually, I was.” She said, deadpan. She got enough of this from the misogynist Midgardian presidents—but when she looked at Loki’s expression he seemed absolutely shocked and a little bit gleeful, and she got a feeling that it wasn’t about her. 

“Really? Did he abdicate?” 

“No.” She said, “I killed him in his sleep.”

His face dropped. 

“I’m kidding. He spent half a year in an alcoholic stupor, which was enough second-hand embarrassment for me to get out of my alcoholic stupor and start making a civilization.” 

“Right. Okay.” He nodded slowly, looking completely confused but didn’t comment. 

There was a beat.

“Are we friends?” He asked, somewhat abruptly. 

She blinked, debating in her head. “Eh,” She tipped her hand and forth in the universal sign for so-and-so. “Tried to kill you, you tried to kill me. Then we fought shit so I guess we’re okay. Or we were okay and then you decided to go and fucking sacrifice yourself to kill Thanos.”

He didn’t say anything, his expression unreadable. She took a sip of coffee. “That was a dick move, by the way, dude.” 

He just looked down at the book in his hand, which likely didn’t explain anything she had just said. “Is this the only source of knowledge you have of the last decade?”

“Yeah, I guess. If you wanna use Wikipedia, I got a laptop and never used it, it’s in my bedroom.” She swirled the coffee, still unable to taste any of the sugar she had put in it. What a disappointment. She eyed the popsicle box, which was already nearly depleted. “When was the last time you ate?”

He opened his mouth, and closed it again. He frowned. “I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know?” 

“Well, time was all…” He waggled his fingers in a hand motion Val couldn’t understand. “You know?”

“No.”

He pushed the popsicle box to the floor and lay back on the couch with his feet dangling over the armrest. “Oh well, it’s probably fine. I didn’t need to, but now I’m starving—do you have any more popsicles?”

She got up with a groan, already sure that he was single-handedly going to ruin her food supply in an afternoon. 

She was out of popsicles, so she held up a loaf of bread and from the way he perked up, she took it as a yes and stuffed a couple slices in the toaster. 

“I’m calling Thor.” She called over her shoulder. 

There was silence. 

And then a disgruntled “Fine.” 

Chapter Text

The Bifrost touched down in Val’s front yard and totally ruined her grass. 

She went outside as Loki voyaged to her bedroom under the excuse of ‘finding her laptop’, but she thought otherwise. The first she heard of Thor’s conversation was a response to something stupid Love had probably done. 

“No. No—put it down. It’s cute, yes, but it won’t be after it tears up all of Val’s furniture. Put it down or I’ll transport us both back to Xander and figure out where it came from—“

“But look at him. His name is Gerald.”

“Gerald is lovely. But Gerald can’t come inside.”

“Uncle Thor—“

“Love. No. If he doesn’t pee on anything or runs away by the time we get back outside from here, you can keep him. Maybe.”

“But meetings with Val always take foreverrr.” 

“Best make this one quick then, hmm?” Val said as she closed the door behind her. Both Thor and Love looked up at her from where he was kneeling, trying to wrestle a small purple blob out of her arms. Thor had donned a hoodie, and jeans with frayed cuffs. Love was wearing a thick child’s jacket and a sundress patterned with Australian dogs from a certain television show she was enamored with. Both of them were also mildly grimy, in the kind of way you only can be post-battle. And Love still had a bit of the blood-lust adrenaline in her eyes.

Seizing the opportunity of his momentary distraction, Love wrestled Gerald back from Thor’s arms and dropped him on Val’s porch couch. She prayed it wouldn’t pee on it or bite it.

“That’s interesting.” She said, eyeing the small abomination. 

“That is a little souvenir Love picked up.” Thor sent it a nasty glare as he scooped Love up onto his hip. Stormbreaker dangled from her small palm and threatened to chop his knee off, but Val didn’t think he minded. 

“His name is Gerald.” Love said helpfully. 

“And it’s very likely we won’t keep him.” Thor said in an authoritative voice that Love very much ignored. She was busy trying to pull out the string in his hoodie. “Love, stop it—She found him in the city and I didn’t realize he was still on her until he bit me in the knee a second ago—“

“Oh come on, Thor, all animals bite. You probably just scared him.” She turned to Love, who had decided that a more entertaining pastime would be to pull on Thor’s earlobe until he swatted her hand away. “Love, sweet, can you hold Gerald for a minute so I can put some coverings on the couch?” 

Thor swatted her hand away. She seemed to consider, then shrugged in consent and Thor put her down. 

“Listen, thank you for coming in such short notice,” She said to him quietly as he attempted to fix his hoodie strings. His hair was tied back with a neon pink scrunchie that likely belonged to a certain ten-year-old. “I know you guys were busy, but it’s seriously important.”

He waved a hand. “It’s no big deal, we were just cleaning up, anyway. You wouldn’t tell me anything over call, what’s—“

“Auntie Val!” Love had Gerald gathered up in her arms and he didn’t look happy about it. In fact, he looked like a wilting purple pillow. 

“That’s great, Love!” She pulled out a plastic tarp from under the coffee table and covered the couch with it. “There we go. And watch out, I think he has teeth. Or just one, I think I just saw one.” 

She turns to Thor. “Did you just get bit by one? Or several?” 

He looked nonplussed. “I didn’t count.” 

“Wow, thanks,” She sighed and turned back to Love. “Try to keep him happy, looks like he bites a bit, sweetheart.”

“He only bit Uncle Thor because he doesn’t like him.” She declared, and Thor faked a laugh, looking somewhat offended. 

“Okay, Love, we’ve got to go inside now,” He scooped her up back onto his hip, and pried Stormbreaker from her hands to drop it in the umbrella stand. A dollop of half-dried blue blood dripped onto one of Val’s umbrellas. 

“I want backsies.” She declared and Thor sighed. 

“Fine. Piggy-back ride. Until we get to the living room.” 

“I got it.” Val said, and took Love onto her back. No longer preoccupied, she had a feeling that when Thor saw who he had to meet, he would probably forget that he was holding Love. 

One of Love’s hands pulled on Val’s shirt, choking her with the collar. She ignored it. 

“Can I have an otter pop?” She asked as they made their way inside. Thor almost got hit in the face with the door, he was busy sending a glare at the non-moving Gerald. 

“Oh…” She was going to say yes and then remembered the Loki situation, which had escalated into the freezer situation. Damn. “I think I ran out. Sorry, Love, I’ll get more at the store tomorrow.” 

“‘Kay.” Love said, and tipped her head back so she could smile upside down at Thor. He flicked her forehead. 

“Thor, can you promise me something first?” Val asked as they got to the living room. Love jumped down from her piggy-back ride and vaulted over the back of the couch, landing on the cushions and laughing maniacally. 

“Sure.” He said, not really focusing as he took the Dragonfang off of the armchair before Love could get ahold of it. 

She spied movement in the kitchen and forced herself to act calm. “Don’t freak out too much, okay?” 

He looked up at her in confusion, which was coincidentally the same time Loki came in from the kitchen with a box of frozen waffles in his hand. 

“Are these edible?” He asked. “Also, is Thor here yet because I heard the Bifrost land—“ His eyes hit Thor’s.

They both froze. 

Val glanced at Thor, who seemed to be shaking slightly. 

“Val,” He said quietly. “Pinch me.”

She did so with gusto, right in his bicep. He twitched. 

Loki carefully took a step forward. His face didn’t have any excitement in it at all, only a vague layering of either fear or nervousness. 

Slowly, very slowly, Thor reached to the side table and picked up a small decorative seashell. 

He threw it at Loki’s head. 

It bounced off his temple and Loki swore loudly, jumping backwards comically and trying to catch the shell before it shattered on the ground, which it did. He rubbed his scalp. “What the hell, Thor!” 

“What the hell you, Loki! Six fucking years—“

Val clapped her hands over Love’s ears and gave the brothers a patronizing look, which they both missed because they were so busy yelling at each other. She bent down next to Love, who was starting to get interested. “Hey, can you go check the fridge for any snacks?”

“Okay!” She said brightly and bolted from the room, singing a convoluted version of what Valkyrie was pretty sure was an Asgardian drinking song (she probably learned it from Thor, which meant Val was going to have some words). 

She turned back to the others. Thor was now purple in the face and Loki was bristling like a porcupine, his fists curled. 

“Oh, I’m sorry I went and died, it must be so inconvenient to you—“ Loki put his hands up in a sarcastic apology. 

“Yes, when you do it three times!” Thor bellowed. 

“None of them were me, you big-headed oaf! Sorry to disappoint—“ 

“Did you fake this one again?! Do you think this is some kind of…” Thor began to pace, looking astoundingly pissed. “Some kind of practical joke, making me mourn you? What did you take over this time, Midgard? Do you sit in the White House eating grapes and making plays about Thanos—“

“I’ve spent over a thousand years trying to prevent the end of life as we know it—but of course you wouldn’t care about that—“

“You think I enjoyed watching Thanos crush the life out of you?! Or when you bled in my arms with poison in your heart? Or dropped into the Void of your own accord?!” 

“I faked it once, the others were hardly—this isn’t even the point, it wasn’t me—“ 

“I tire of watching you die, Loki!” 

This was the verbal equivalent of slapping Loki in the face. His eyes went wide and he stared at Thor, jaw slack. Thor’s heavy breathing died down somewhat, and Val saw that his eyes were brimming with tears. Now that she noticed, so were Loki’s.

After a horrible silence, Loki spoke softly. “I’m not your Loki.” His voice was hoarse. “I’m sorry—he’s dead. The last time I saw you, we tried to kill each other.” 

“And is that supposed to be news?” Thor said as a weak joke, but Loki’s mood didn’t lighten. “I’d rather have you alive and fighting then dead and cold in a grave.” 

Loki looked like he was about to break down. Thor was the same, but he moved forward and stopped when Loki backed up a step. 

“I’m not your Loki.” He said again, swallowing visibly. “He died with Thanos. I’m from a different universe—when I was still destroying Stark Tower and serving that disgusting—“ He switched into a slur in Asgardian that Val did not want to translate. 

“I know.” Thor said gently. “I could feel it. You’re not the Loki I used to know,” 

Loki swallowed, his throat bobbing.

“But you’re damn well still my brother.” 

And Thor swiftly wrapped his arms around him and dragged him into a crushing embrace. Val heard a squeak, and Loki eventually succumbed to hugging him back just as hard, both of them shaking with silent sobs. 

“You’re such an asshole.” Thor muttered and made Loki give a sort of wet laugh. 

“And you’re such an idiot, thinking I wouldn’t come back to haunt you. You’re never going to get rid of me for long.” 

Thor pushed back from the hug, but both his hands were gripping Loki’s shoulders, seemingly unable to disengage contact from his reincarnated brother. “It’s been six years, Loki. Six years and then some. Where were you?” 

“Dead.” Loki said. Val winced. “Still dead. You were listening to what I was saying, I hope?” 

“I was a bit busy having a brother again. At first I thought Hela hadn’t let you in.” Thor said, raising an eyebrow. Loki rolled his eyes. “What do you mean, from a different universe?”

Loki hesitated, and then his face crumpled; he looked so tired Val wouldn’t have been surprised if he had spent the last six years in a time limbo where Hela refused him access to death. Then he let out a long breath through his nose and dropped forward, resting his head on Thor’s upper chest. Thor looked surprised at this and belatedly patted him in the back. 

“I have a lot to explain to you.” 

“Likewise.” 

Chapter Text

“That…” Thor stared down at his tea, now cold and undrunken. “That was one of the most horrible things I’ve ever heard.” 

Even Valkyrie was aghast. “How long did you spend, going from timeline to timeline trying to fix it?”

Loki picked at his left palm, which Thor noticed with a bit of a thrill, another sign that this was Loki, back in Thor’s life, down to his nervous habits. Even if the trait in question didn’t bode well. “I don’t even know—time was…well, it seemed to—“ He made some odd gesture and Thor had no idea what it meant. Val nodded though, so he just forced an understanding expression and sipped his cold tea. “I never slept, and I didn’t need to, because every time I went back, I was back in the body that was used at the time—“

“So that’s why you weren’t hungry?” Val asked. 

Loki shrugged, but it was a little odd, a jerk at the shoulder. Everything about him seemed a little odd. The closest Thor could compare it to was Scott Lang, the Man of Ants, when he had returned from the quantum realm. His mind was time-scattered, muttering at random intervals and speaking erratically. 

“Around the 281st attempt,” Thor paled and Loki saw it, he resolutely looked away. “I was tempted to give up. I found a Tempad and took myself to Asgard.” 

For me? Thor wanted to ask. 

“For Frigga.” Loki plowed on, and Thor tried not to let that hurt him. Of course this Loki didn’t trust him, he left Thor in 2012, at his worst, when he was beaten and bloodthirsty and desperate. Of course after seeing his mother die—how many times—on a magic projector, he would want to visit her himself. 

“I said sorry.” Loki said into his tea, not looking at either of them. “I begged her forgiveness for killing her—she could smell the time magic, you see. But she laughed and waved it off, saying that she loved me and trusted me enough to know that I would never kill her.” 

Both of them were silent. Loki picked at the ceramic on his mug, sitting in the chair opposite the two of them at the couch. His legs were crossed at the ankles and he drew them up, wrapping his arms around them. He looked very small, and Thor wanted to drown him in blankets and take him to a quiet room to start to undo the unholy mess of the last decade, to find Loki under all this scar tissue.

“She was right.” Thor said and Loki looked up sharply. “She was. I know you would never kill Frigga, you loved her as I loved her, even at your worst. I never blamed you for her, not really.” 

Loki stared at him like he had gone insane. “I sent a Kursed after her—“ 

“You sent a Kursed where you thought I was, you tried to kill me. Which I don’t hold against you—“ He chuckled darkly. “I have a talent for attracting unwanted attention. But I held nothing against you for our mother’s untimely death.”

Loki didn’t speak. He looked like something inside him had cracked, shattering deep in his core. He let out a heavy breath that seeped throughout his body and slumped back into the chair, letting his legs go down and grinding his palms into his eyelids. Processing. He laughed softly.

“But I am going to kill Mobius.” Thor said thoughtfully. 

Loki jolted. “What? No!” 

“Yes!” Thor said in rebuke. “What kind of person shows a prisoner a slideshow about how worthless they are, and tells them that they were insignificant and destined to be evil?”

Loki flinched slightly. “He didn’t say anything about my nature that I didn’t already know. And I was insignificant to the timeline, everyone was.” 

“Variant.” Thor mumbled under his breath, scowling.

“Thor.” Loki said. “He’s a good man.” 

“You certainly think so, don’t you?” Val said slyly from the couch with a raised eyebrow. Loki spluttered and couldn’t come up with any excuse. 

“What?” Thor asked, looking between them where Loki was glaring daggers at her, and she was casually sipping coffee. “What?” 

“Nothing.” Loki said with another dark look in her direction. 

“Do you need help getting back?” Val said innocently. “Is that why you’re here?” 

Loki swallowed and itched at his shoulder, where Thor now knew a bandage was wrapped underneath (and was that one of his shirts?). “This is where the Tempad sent me. Why, I know not. I do need to leave, and no one from the TVA has arrived yet to find me, so they either don’t know what happened, or…” He trailed off. Don’t care was unspoken. 

Thor belatedly tried to distract Loki from his spiral of melancholic self-deprecation. “Well, the multiverse hasn’t been destroyed in an apocalyptic war yet, so I think we should have a bit more time to find out what to do.”

“Unless it’s like a trail of gas,” Said Val, unhelpfully. “Where your release was a fuse was set on fire and it’s traveling up the little line of explosives to the big guys.” 

“Shush,” Thor silenced her. Loki looked queasy, like he was legitimately considering it. “This will work out. I swear it.”

Val eyed him dubiously. Loki opened his mouth, probably to argue with some stupid, self-sacrificial statement, but at that moment, his eyes trailed to the door to the kitchen and they widened. 

“Who is that?” He asked, somewhat warily, and Thor turned to see Love—who had managed to turn on Valkyrie’s Alexa and was having a one-person dance off to the Coco soundtrack. She didn’t notice anyone in the living room, or if she did, she didn’t care, so determined on waving her arms excitedly to the tune of Poco Loco. 

Thor glanced back at Loki, who was glancing between her and Thor with a suspicious expression. 

“She’s a long story.” Thor said apologetically. 

“Is she yours?” Loki asked. 

“In a way.” Thor tore his eyes away from his pseudo-daughter and back to Loki. “Her father…” He glanced at Val and they shared a look, not wanting to reconcile too many bitter memories in Love’s presence. “She’s adopted.” 

Loki jerked back like he’d just been slapped. 

Oh.

Oh.

“Loki…” He said carefully. Loki was staring at Love openly now, but his eyes were too far away. 

Loki snapped his attention back to him. “Sorry. I—sorry. I should…” He got up abruptly and took his mug with him. “I should leave.”

It took a moment for the words to get through Thor’s brain. Then he stood up sharply. “What? No! Why?”

Loki turned to look at him, something vulnerable in his gaze that Thor didn’t like the vibe of. “You’re clearly busy, and clearly have a life built here already. Besides, I’m not even your actual brother. I can…I’ll figure something out. If you excuse me, I’ll take my leave—“

He tried to walk past him, but Thor put his arm out and gently held Loki by the shoulder. The fact that Loki didn’t bother to pull free showed his uncertainty.

“You’ve said that before.” Thor informed him.

“Said what?”

“That you’re not my brother. A long time ago.” Thor met Loki’s eyes steadily, and Loki’s were flickering back and forth like trying to read him. “And it was as true then as it is now.” 

“Thor…” Loki started pleadingly, but Thor interrupted him. 

“Nope.”

“Thor, I don’t want to—“

“Nope.”

“Thor, seriously, you can’t just—“

“Nope. Nuh uh.”

“Thor, come on—“

“Nope.” Thor put his finger to Loki’s lips as he opened his mouth to protest again. 

“I can really see how raising a ten-year-old has affected you.” Loki said dryly around his hand, but his expression was significantly more relaxed. 

“Loki, if I’m being honest,” Thor took a deep breath, not enjoying the way Loki went stiff. “I will not stop you if you genuinely want to leave. I will respect that, although that would be very rude of you. But if you need a place to stay, even for one night, please, stay here.”

“Hey,” Val protested. “This is my house you’re auctioning off.” 

“I’ve already eaten all of your food, I think staying on your couch should be fine.” Loki informed her, and she rolled her eyes. Then Loki turned back to Thor. “Are you sure? I don’t want to—“

“Loki, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” Thor gripped Loki’s shoulders with both his hands. “Stay. You’re my brother. I want you here. Norns, for the rest of our lives if we can.” 

Loki took in an audibly shaky breath. Val took that as a signal to move, and stood up, going to her hallway closet and pulling out a pile of blankets and sheets. She dropped these on the couch, and then grabbed a few wads of differently colored clothing from a basket by the bathroom. 

“Favorite color—no, wait, who am I kidding?” She picked out something green and threw it at Loki’s head. He caught it neatly. It was a pair of pajama pants, which he stared at uncomprehendingly as she fluffed up a pillow and spread a blanket over the couch. 

“Are you really sure?” Loki asked again, to both of him. He still looked a bit stiff, like a rubber band coiled tight. 

“Loki, if you ask that one more time, I swear I will invert your kneecaps.” Val kicked the Dragonfang under the armchair to get it out of the way. 

At that moment, Love ran back into the room, her eyes frenzied. Loki regarded her with interest, but she seemed to have forgotten all about him. “Guess what I found!” She shrieked. Thor raised his eyebrows.

“What did you find?” 

“Auntie Val’s freezer in the garage.” She said, all in one breath. “And there’s popsicles in it.”

Loki’s eyes lit up. Val immediately caught it and started moving towards him. 

“Loki. Loki, don’t even think about it—“

Chapter Text

Mornings in New Asgard were full of fog. 

It settled over the town in a smothering layer sometime in the night, and by the time Thor woke up, early in the morning, it was so thick the light outside was practically white and you could barely see the neighbor’s house. 

He got up and sat on the bed for a second, his mind muddled from sleep. Something had happened yesterday. He didn’t remember what…

The moment it hit him was like a freight train. He immediately bolted upwards and stumbled to the door of the bedroom, his mind all one single goal—

Just a dream, just a dream, it had to be a dream…

Loki was lying facedown on the couch in the living room, his hair strewn around his face and a blanket tangled up on his legs. One of his arms was folded under his head, the other trailing on the floor. He was quietly snoring. 

Thor stood in the doorway for a moment, trying to get his breathing back down. Loki was here. Loki was alive, first and foremost, which was incredible within itself.

Norns.

Norns. 

He held in a tight breath and let it out, forcing himself to turn to the kitchen.

Thor went through the movements of making coffee robotically, and stood for a moment at the cupboard, before pulling down a shiny green mug he had left at Val’s house a while ago. He had found it at a thrift store, this green, weird, fancy little mug that was probably a Tesla in a previous life. At the time, it reminded him of Loki, and so of course Thor had bought it. Because he was a sentimental idiot who bought ugly coffee mugs for mopey reasons. 

One cream, no sugar. He didn’t have lactose-free milk, so he made do with almond. Then he carried the two mugs, one green and the other painted with a drawing Love had made at school, over to the living room. 

He set Loki’s mug down on the coffee table and carefully levered himself downwards onto the edge of the couch Loki was sleeping on, by Loki’s torso. From here, he could feel Loki’s chest rise and fall in slow, slumbering breaths. Loki hummed something and curled deeper into the pillow.

Taking a sip of his coffee, Thor let his eyes roam across his brother’s face, simultaneously looking for injuries and anything out of place. 

He looked mostly the same as when Thor last saw him at first glance, except, of course, not bloody and dirt-covered and lacking a broken neck. But his whole vibe was just…off. He seemed older than he said he was (2012, seriously?) but at the same time, his face wasn’t as lined with stress now as it had been when Thor had known him before. No, it was, but it was….

It was like he had creased differently. 

The frown wrinkle between his eyebrows was slightly lower. The lines around his eyes were more pronounced, and it was anyone’s guess if they were from smiling or stress or both. His hair was thick and fluffy, and a shoulder-neck length which definitely helped his image more than the ‘greased-lightning’ demeanor previously. Besides that, he looked like his face had filled itself out, somewhat. And the fact that he was dressed in all browns and warm colors did wonders to his pallor. 

Thor reached a hand out before he knew what he was doing, hesitated, and brushed it through Loki’s hair, tucking a wayward strand behind his ear. Loki made a small noise and at first Thor thought he had woken him up, but then Loki’s face turned towards his hand and burrowed into it. 

Thor chucked, and methodically started smoothing back Loki’s hair in strokes, as Loki seemed to go boneless into the couch, his breathing getting easier. One of his hands, poking out from under the blanket, clenched gently in the air and released, almost like a sleeping infant. 

“The hell are you—oh.” 

Thor looked up and saw Val standing in the doorway, wearing little flannel shorts that Thor suspected weren’t hers, and a ridiculously oversized shirt that said I (heart) New Asgard. Her hair was tucked back in a silk bonnet, and a toothbrush was sticking out of her mouth.

Ladies and gentlemen, we present the last of the Valkyrior, fabled warriors of dignity and prowess. 

Val rubbed her nose. “Got any more coffee?”

Thor did, in fact, have more coffee. 

It was anyone’s assumption if the coffee in question was supposed to be for Loki or not, but he couldn’t drink it while he was asleep, so it had seemed a waste of a brew if Thor didn’t give it to Val, to be honest. At least, that’s what Val said as she had slowly taken the mug from the coffee table, staring him dead in the eye like come on, I dare you.

They both sat at the counter in the kitchen, within eyesight of the couch, where Loki was currently entangled, looking like a deconstructed Möbius strip. Val hunched over her drink like an old crone at a scrying mirror, Thor half-expecting her to tell him his future. 

“You know, I read this interesting article the other day.” She said conversationally, taking a sip. Her face blanched and she reached over to dump a couple packets of sugar and creamer into the drink. “Fucking lactose-intolerant demigods—anyways.”

“Anyways.” Thor prompted, eyeing the still couch out of the corner of his gaze. Loki curled tighter into the blanket, practically hibernating. Thor made a mental note to wake him up before noon to make him eat. 

“It was talking about nicotine or tobacco users weaning themselves off of the smoking ‘n shit.” She stirred a chunk of sugar, which was trying to be an iceberg and failing miserably. “Someone did a study, and it was something about chewing gum. Bunch of people ate gum instead of smoked, and it helped them go clean faster.”

“Val, did you take up smoking?” Thor asked, deadpan, only half-joking. 

“What? No, you idiot. Anyways, they wanted to see if gum helps, and for a lot of people it does. Just chewing on something, having it in their mouth, helps them not think about the fact that they’re not smoking the whole time.”

“I assume you have a point with this?” Thor asked, arching an eyebrow. 

Val took a breath. “I used to drink coffee a lot more. And I read this article, and I immediately thought ‘huh, that explains it.’”

Thor blinked. “Val…” He said carefully. 

“I’m not relapsing!” Val said loudly, which was how Thor could tell she was nervous. But he believed her. If Val was going back to drinking, he had a feeling it would be a lot more obvious. “I’ve got too much shit to do to be an alcoholic right now! I just…I don’t know, I read it and it explained a lot, so I thought I’d tell you.”

“Were you wondering if I did the same thing?” Thor asked. 

“Well, yeah.” The nice thing about Val was that she didn’t beat around the bush. Blunt and to the point, that was her trademark. 

“I did.” Thor looked down at his mug, contemplating. “I mean, probably not as much, but for a good while after the battle, I forced myself to drink coffee every morning instead of anything alcoholic. I brewed it, I poured it, and I just…held it throughout the day. Or I’d get some drink from the Starbucks down by the bay.”

“I think the funny part is,” Val smiled ruefully. “This mortal doctor recommended I don’t do that, because it’ll make me jittery, but I don’t think she realized that I can’t really get cardiac arrhythmia from Midgardian drinks. Then I asked her if she ever got it from Gatorade, because that has the same inebriation levels to us.”

“Oh,” Thor shuddered. “I can’t stand Gatorade.”

“What do you mean?!” Val looked almost offended. 

“I went to one…” He took a breath. “One birthday party with Love, and the mother of her friend Hazel, this sweet little girl from her ballet class, was just handing them out. It was horrible. I had to practically duct tape her to the car seat to get her to stop squirming.”

Val shook her head, aghast. “Dude! Gatorade is delicious.”

“It tastes like chemicals and bad life choices.” Thor folded his arms.

“What are you talking about?” Someone croaked from the doorway. 

“Loki, I need a second opinion, perfect.” Val immediately turned on him and Loki blinked, bleary-eyed, his hair a mass of unbrushed curls and his body still droopy. He was leaning slightly on the door frame, and Thor felt a pang of guilt at waking him up. The poor guy needed a lot more sleep than he had gotten. “What are your thoughts on Gatorade?” 

“My thoughts on what?” He yawned and stretched his back enough to make it pop, shuffled forward past the two of them into the kitchen, and started roaming through Val’s cupboards. He pulled out a box of dusty, abandoned tea. 

“Gatorade. Some Midgardian drink.” Thor explained. 

“Um.” Loki read the back of the tea box and set it down on the counter. “I…like it?”

“You’ve never had it, have you.” Val sighed in disappointment. 

Loki shook his head, pulling out at least three tea bags and dumping them in the same mug (it had a very subtle Tony Stark logo on it, and Thor was waiting for him to realize). “I guess not.”

“It’s delicious.”

“It’s probably radioactive.” Thor countered, and yelped when Val punched him in the shoulder. 

Loki turned around and leaned against the counter as the tea kettle was turned on to boil. He looked between the pair of them suspiciously. “I’ve been meaning to ask. Are you two…”

The meaning was clear, and both Thor and Val jumped apart with noises of disgust. 

“Oh Norns, absolutely not.” Thor shook his head as Val made loud gagging noises, which were actually a bit offensive with how exaggerated they were. “The noble Valkyrie has a long history with me, but definitely not like that. It would be weird. Besides, she is currently in a relationship with—“

“Ah!” Val covered his mouth with a hand, and he snickered around it, ducked his head when she tried to push him in the head. “What Thor means to say is that he is definitely not my type. I prefer people with actual functioning brain cells—“

“You’re one to talk.” Thor scoffed. 

“Oh. Well. Thor, what about…” Loki peered at him, his head tilted to the side as if trying to remember something. “The mortal woman. Jane Foster?”

The humor died.

Thor stilled and Val shot him a concerned glance, her expression sobering. 

Thor swallowed. “She… that is a very long, and very tragic story.”

Val nodded. “The brave die young,” She sipped her coffee, and blanched again, pouring another packet of sugar into it. 

Loki looked stricken. He turned back to Thor with horror in his gaze, and it quickly melted to a sort of soft sympathy. “Thor…” 

“She was a good woman. Too good for the likes of me.” Thor made himself chuckle, and made himself take a sip of now-bitter coffee, trying to erase the exposure of dark, sickly hair and white hospital beds from his mind’s eye. 

“I…oh.” Loki looked down at his mug. “I’m so sorry. How did it come to pass?”

“Cancer. It’s a bitch.” Val answered for him, which he was thankful for. His throat was tight just thinking about it. 

“And Love, she isn’t Jane’s…?” Loki glanced at the doorway down the hall, where Love was supposedly asleep, but Thor had a nagging feeling she was playing Education Mode Minecraft on Valkyrie’s switch. 

“Oh, no, not at all.” Thor brought his attention back. “Do you remember the Necrosword, from the All-Father’s childhood stories?”

Loki’s eyes widened. “It’s real?”

“Very real. Real enough to nearly kill me. A man called Gorr got ahold of it and started avenging the gods as recompense for his daughter, who died when they were abandoned.”

“Which gods?” Loki frowned. “There’s a lot of them.”

“All of them.” Val said gravely, making Loki look alarmed. “He went a little crazy in the end, but he found a way to get to Infinity—“

Loki’s face swiveled between them like he wasn’t sure if they were joking or not.

“And managed to resurrect his daughter. But he died in the process.”

“Her?” He gestured down the hall again. Thor nodded. Loki frowned again and stared down at his empty mug. “But how did he get to Infinity? If it’s as I’ve heard in legends, wouldn’t you need some type of Bifrost conductor to pave the way?”

Thor looked over at Val. “Do you mind?” She shrugged, and he took that as a yes. He held out his hand, and there was an astounding crash from down the hall, and then a large, ax-shaped hole burst its way through the wall next to the kitchen sink. Storm breaker landed in his hands and it quivered like a dog running back to its owner like did I do good, dad? Val rolled her eyes. 

Thor saw Loki mouth holy shit, and wondered if he had picked up the phrase from some Midgardian. Probably that Mobius. It sounded like something he would say.

Loki moved forward and, after a glance to Thor to see if it was okay, traced the lines of design in the metal, and the wooden, natural handle. 

“This is the weapon that made Thanos bleed.” Thor said solemnly. The words didn’t feel as important now as they did before, where he had used that phrase to assert his own failing usefulness, and now they rang hollow in his head. Nonetheless, Loki’s eyebrows raised. 

“You want to hold it?” Thor asked, handing it out. 

Loki’s hand instantly recoiled and he stepped back. “No!” He blurted sharply, realized his mistake, and tried to chuckle. “That’s…that’s not going to work. Heh. I don’t—I don’t need that answered right now.”

“Oh, no, it’s not enchanted like Mjolnir is.” Thor explained. “I made it in Nidavellir, to kill the Titan. The handle was the arm of a friend of mine, a very sweet teenager named Tree.”

“Groot.” Val corrected him. 

“That is what I said.”

Loki reached a hand out slowly, his lips thin. He looked tentative, and Thor held Stormbreaker out encouragingly.

After a moment, Loki grasped the handle and Thor saw him stiffen as Thor’s fingers released it. 

The ax didn’t drop. Loki held it, and stared at it for a long while, frowning as he carefully turned the weapon over, examining the vague scratches in the side. Thankfully, he didn’t mention the blue blood that had encrusted around the blade.

Loki opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment the tea kettle started screaming at him for attention and he dropped the ax on the countertop to turn off the heat. 

As he was pouring the water into his mug, Thor heard a rustling noise (as a parent, anytime you hear a rustling noise, it means there is a child somewhere) and he turned to the doorway. Sure enough, Love was standing in the frame, her eyes squinted with the last dregs of sleep and holding a Bingo plushie that was actually larger than her own body. She sniffed and clutched the stuffed animal to her oversized sleep shirt. 

“S’that a grown up drink?” She looked sideways at the coffee mugs. Val inched hers toward herself, remembering the last time someone had allowed Love coffee (not good, not good at all). 

“It is.”  Thor admitted. 

“D’we have orange goose?” 

Thor turned to Val, noticing Loki’s bewildered expression as he assumed Love was referring to a brightly-colored fowl. “Do we have orange juice?”

“I mean, I did, but apparently everything here belongs to Loki and you guys now, so yeah. In the fridge.”

Loki, clearly feeling bad about ravaging the Valkyrie’s kitchen, said, “I left something called waffles in the freezer. Are those a breakfast food?”

Thor moved, but it was too late. 

At the word waffle, Love’s eyes miraculously lost the sleepy look in them and she shot past the counter and shoved open Val’s freezer. Then she squealed, pulled out a large, frosty bag of mini-sized frozen waffles, and plonked it on the counter in front of Thor. She rested her grinning face on the marble top in front of him. That manipulative little shit. 

He almost tried to argue that Val had healthier food somewhere in her fridge and that Love had eaten cereal for breakfast the entirety of last week. Then he noticed Loki discreetly eyeing the waffles with interest, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist. 

“Fine.” He groaned, and drained his coffee as he got to his feet. Love squealed in victory and stole his seat, holding an empty mug. 

“How much do you want?” He asked Loki, who was a few feet away from him down the counter. 

“What?” Loki turned to him, snapping out of a daze. 

“How many waffles do you want?”

“Oh, no, don't worry about it.” Loki feebly tried to protest. Ha. Like those wiles would work on the Mighty Thor, an overprotective single dad. “I can get food later, honestly.”

“How many?” Thor asked again pointedly, already pulling multiple out to set them on a metal tray for Love. 

“Uncle Thor—uncle Thor, look a’me.” Thor turned around and saw Love hunched over the counter, her face set in a heavy pout. Next to Val, she looked nearly identical. Val noticed and sullenly fixed her posture, shooting an offended look at the ten year old. 

“Very good, noble Valkyrie.”

“I’m Love! Not Auntie Val!” Love collapsed into giggles. Thor let his lips twitch where she couldn’t see them and gasped dramatically when he turned back. 

“Really? I couldn’t tell! The likeness was uncanny.” Val shot him a glare, which he cheerfully ignored. He turned back to Loki, who had been watching the whole thing with a barely straight face. “How many? Three? Four? They come in these little packs of four, and Love usually has two or three of those, but she’s very small—“

“I’m not small!”

“As I said, very, very small. I almost stepped on her once. I’d assume you’d like four or five, depending on how those popsicles yesterday affected your stomach.”

Loki deliberated, but after a long moment of staring at the waffles, he looked up at Thor. “Five.” 

Thor chuckled, pulling frozen waffles out of the bag and slapping them onto the tray, where they clattered like a bunch of frying pans. Maybe he should defrost them first. “Good choice. Get some meat on your bones, hmm? Knowing you, when was the last time you’d even eaten?” 

“Yesterday.” Loki said. The little shit. 

Thor rolled his eyes. “No, you idiot. Before that.” 

Loki opened his mouth, frowned at himself, closed it, and leaned back like he was trying to remember. His humor ebbed away slowly and he stared at his mug. 

“I…uh.” He stared at the last dregs of tea in his mug. “I had a piece of pie—Norns, I don’t even know—the time was all over the place. Constant motion, constant walking…constant.” He stopped and frowned. He evidently had noticed the arc reactor emblem on the side of the mug, and wrinkled his nose at it. 

Thor studied him for a moment. “I’m giving you six. And I expect you to eat all of them.”

“Why, of course.” Loki said, mock saluting him. “The Mighty Thor decrees it.” 

Thor pulled a ‘Love’ and stuck his tongue out at him. Loki’s face wrinkled as he smiled and he did it back after a moment, looking almost relieved. 

“Uncle Thor…” Love threw Bingo across the room and Thor ducked as it almost hit him. “Waffles!”

Unfortunately, even though Love literally threw a hammer around to kill things all the time, she didn’t have a lot of spatial awareness. It hit Loki in the face, who blinked as the plushie dropped to the floor.

“This means war,” He informed the child. Love looked like that was the best thing to ever happen to her, and she smiled a large, dopey grin at him, showing off the tooth she had lost last week. Loki hesitated, and after a moment returned the smile, and it actually looked genuine. 

Thor remembered the waffles. 

“Boots!”

“Crocs!”

“Boots!” 

“Crocs!”

“I said boots!” Thor ducked behind the back of the couch as twin beams of energy shot from Love’s eyes. The lasers burst a couple of holes in the wall behind him, almost directly next to Loki’s head, who looked up in abject surprise from the laptop he was holding with his knees. 

“Will you two stop it?” He complained, and shut the laptop. “What are crocs, and why does your child harbor such an abominable obsession for them?”

Thor poked his head over the couch, and saw Love sitting on a mountain of stuffed animals, defiantly scrunching her face up. Her hands were clutching her feet, which were laden with the most hideous pair of child’s plastic shoes known to man. They had SpongeBob charms on them, which was weird because Thor had never actually allowed her to watch SpongeBob. 

“Crocs are the bane of my existence.” Thor practically snarled, making Loki roll his eyes. “They are! Weird plastic, and they wear out so easily! Love, honestly, I’m sure you remember the time you got a polka dot sunburn from wearing them at the beach!”

“We’re not going to the beach!”

“It’s negative six degrees outside!”

“So? I’ll wear socks!” 

“Stop it!” Loki rubbed his temples with his fingers and scowled. If Thor was being completely honest to himself, he enjoyed seeing his brother like this. It meant he was still the same person, and still endlessly peeved with anything Thor did. “Listen, child, if you would like your toes to fall off because of the frigid air and watch your skin turn black and gray while you shiver constantly, by all means, wear the …crocs. Otherwise, I’m sure there’s a pair of shoes somewhere you can easily procure and wear. Right, Thor?”

“Right.” Thor said, raising an eyebrow at Love, who frowned, knowing she was cornered. 

“Fineee.” She said after a moment, in a pitch of voice that dragged and decimated Thor’s eardrums. She mumbled something under her breath. 

“What was that?” Thor asked innocently. 

“I’ll wear the…” She mumbled off again, sinking into her throne of plushies. 

“Wear the what?” 

“Fine, I’ll wear the shoes.” 

“Thank you.” Thor told her primly, and rolled his eyes as she stalked away to go find her trainers. 

He climbed over the back of the couch and dropped down next to Loki, sliding an arm around his shoulder and letting loose the kind of sigh only an exhausted parent could make. Loki chuckled, and Thor watched him scroll down a Wikipedia article about Avenger activity in 2016 and the Convergence that had occurred in London. 

“How long have you had her?” Loki asked after a moment, his fingers stilling on the screen. 

“About a year and a half now.” Thor answered. He rubbed Loki’s shoulder from the side he embraced him on. He could feel Loki slightly lean into him, and didn’t make any motion to change that. Slow steps were fine. “She’s a brilliant child, very bright for her age. And she’s currently into different types of dance, she had a very impressive tap recital last week.” 

“That sounds nice.” Loki mused, and clicked on a link below Steve Roger’s page that took him to an article about the promotion of Sam Wilson as Captain America. “Remind me where we’re going again?” 

“Down into the center of New Asgard, I’m meeting up with Doctor Banner for a couple of decisions regarding the science lab and some Midgardian political skeddadle.” 

“The fact that you call it Midgardian political skedaddle means you’re clearly not the one doing it.” Loki looked at him sideways, and Thor smiled through a scowl. 

“Oh, no. It’s all Val, really. But I have to sign things, because we haven’t gotten around to officially abdicating yet. I write some lines, say some fancy blurb, and smile at the diplomats, and it’s all taken care of.” 

“And I’m coming…why?” 

“Because,” Thor held a finger out to make his point. Loki did that thing he did a lot, where his eyes moved first before he moved his head. Val would have called it sad puppy dog eyes. “Because. If I leave you here unsupervised I will come back to you bingeing BBC’s Pride and Prejudice while crying into a bowl of the good Valkyrie’s popcorn.”

“I fail to see anything bad about that.” Loki said defensively. “Also, what is Pride and Prejudice?”

“Not something you need to get into.” Thor deflected quickly, remembering Loki’s Shakespeare phase back in the Midgardian 16th century. He had ranted about Hamlet for three hours. Thor had a suspicion that Jane Austen would be, if anything, worse. “You’re coming with me because you need to get out of the house. Get into the sun and fresh air!”

“It’s cloudy outside and it’s practically a hurricane.”

“So? It’s very fresh air.” 

“I can’t believe you,” Loki muttered, but it was dampened by his faint smile and the fact that he sank a bit deeper into Thor’s side. 

Thor took a deep breath and decided now would probably be a good moment. Love was on a trainer quest, and Val was in the backyard pulling weeds and complaining about her nonexistent bad back.

“Brother, might I speak with you?”

“You already are.” Came the quick reply. Ass. Thor told him so and he laughed, but it evaporated quickly as Thor tried to stuff his whirling thoughts into a series of cohesive words.

“When you…the three times before. When you have died,” Ugh. That was already a bad start. He saw Loki wince out of the corner of his eye. “The first, of the Bifrost, the second of the Kursed, and the third of Thanos. Every time was worse than the others. Do you…” He took another breath. “Do you know the thing you’re deeply afraid of? That consumes you, that is above all?”

Loki nodded, slightly pale. He blinked into the distance for a second, his hands twisting in his lap. 

“Mine,” Thor continued. “Mine is to be helpless. To watch someone die, to lose something, and be powerless to stop it. I watched Asgard burn and knew I had sanctioned it. Jane died in my arms,” His voice broke slightly and Loki put a hand on his, with a soft squeeze. “Jane died of cancer coursing through her veins and all I could do was watch. Useless. Obsolete.” 

“Thor…” 

Thor shook his head. “Don’t. Not now. If I stop, I don’t think I can start up again.”

Loki sank back into the cushion, but he was now hip to hip with Thor, and he could feel Loki’s body (running cold, all the time, Loki had retained cold hands and feet since they were children) angle into him. Thor rubbed his shoulder, staring at the opposite wall for support.

“And you. Especially, because I knew that it was at least partly my fault. If I had spoken to you before, when you first learned your heritage, perhaps I could have altered what transpired that day. Even just by listening. I held you as your body went limp in Svartalfheim, wishing more than anything that I could have taken that blade instead. And Thanos…”

Loki let out an exhale that shuddered slightly. 

“But I felt so useless. Unworthy of my throne, unworthy of my family, unworthy of the mantle of ruler. Why should I have been king? I’m just some bloke with a heavy piece of metal and a gullible tendency to believe that everyone immediately likes me. And those few years, after you fell, after the Kursed, the past six of my life…” Thor rubbed at his sternum. “It was like someone had reached into my chest and literally ripped out a piece of me. Something irreplaceable, something I had taken for granted until it was gone. That was you, Loki, and I didn’t realize it until it was too late.” 

Thor had discovered something about Loki that he learned to use to his advantage midway through their teens. Loki had an issue meeting eye contact when he was nervous, or cornered, or literally showing any vulnerable emotion. To counteract this, Thor grew a habit of gently placing a hand on the back of Loki’s neck, forcing his head up to meet his eyes. 

He did that now, but also used his thumb to rub the back of Loki’s neck, and he could see his brother’s throat bob as their eyes met each other. Loki’s, swirling green and bits of teal and tears about to leak over. 

“I am not going to be useless now.” Thor said, wetting his lips and watching Loki’s face, which was tight with emotion. “I will fight, and fight when futile or fight when there is nothing left to fight for. But there is always something left to fight for, and it’s you, Loki. You are my other half, and you are my brother. You can shove me away, stab me, laugh at me, but I will never stop loving you. I will never stop fighting for you, Loki.”

Loki’s next exhale was almost a sob.

“I love you so, so much, Loki. You’re the constant in my life, and even when you hated me, I tried so hard to show you I still cared, and even when I didn’t, I will fix that now.” 

“Thor, I…” Loki actually let out a wet hiccup, and he wiped next to his eye with the back of his hand. “It wasn’t your fault. Any of it. I’ve just been…Thor, I know I’m a bad brother, been a bad brother. For such a long time.” He gulped air like it was a fading fashion, his eyes dashing away from Thor’s to stare at the adjacent wall, trying to pull his mind together.

“I am greedy.” He declared, without emotion, and Thor stayed silent, waiting to see where this was going. His hand on the nape of Loki’s neck traced the line of fine, dark hair where it met his skin. 

“I am jealous, and I am spiteful. I am nothing you could ever want, in any way.” His voice cracked. 

“But I still do! I still want you, Loki!” Thor’s other hand found Loki’s cheek and, before he knew what he was doing, pulled their foreheads together. “I will scream it to the world!” He chucked wetly. “I will yell to the universe that Loki is my brother, and that I…I am proud of him. And what he has become.”

Loki opened his mouth to say something, anything else, but it dissolved into an actual sob, and he fell forward, his head dropping onto Thor’s chest. “I just wanted…”

“Shh. I know.” Thor pulled Loki towards him and tucked his head into his shoulder, burying his face in Loki’s hair. “It’s alright.” 

He planted a kiss on Loki's scalp, as Loki’s hands curled around him, clutching the fabric of his shirt like he was afraid it would disappear. 

“It’s alright.”

And for a moment, he believed it was.

Chapter Text

After Loki had cried himself out (which took a while), he pushed away from Thor and stood up. “We should find Love and the Valkyrie.” He said, while rubbing his reddened eyes to remove any evidence. The he smoothed his hair back in a way that struck Thor in the chest just with how goddamn familiar it was. 

Thor sighed and pulled himself upright as well. His leg had gone dead and now felt like it was made of static. 

“Are you hungry?” He asked Loki. He knew it had been only an hour since breakfast, but he always made room for ice cream. That was the only way Love would ever sit still at meetings. 

Loki perked up. “Yes, please,” and Thor laughed with how interested he sounded. 

Authorizing a Baskin Robbins in New Asgard was the best choice Thor had ever made. 

The issue was, everyone else agreed that it was the best choice Thor had ever made, and consequently, the Asgardian Baskin Robbins branch was always packed full of people who desperately wanted ice cream even at temperatures that would make your toes fall off. 

Loki looked almost cornered as he stood in the crowded line next to Thor, with Love perched on one of Thor’s hips. She was tying and untying the strings on his hoodie. 

“You’re sure no one cares about me being here?” Loki was jostled by a large fisherman, who moved past with a carefree “Sorry, mate.” Loki sent him a nearly terrified look, and moved closer to Val on his other side. 

She shot him a dry glare, and then stopped when her back pocket buzzed. She pulled out her phone and showed Thor the caller ID. “Carol. I’ll be right back.” She disappeared into the crowd. Loki returned to his mopey and simultaneously apprehensive expression. 

“Yes, of course,” Thor reassured him. “Why wouldn’t they be? Love, stop it, you’re wearing them out.” Love stopped ruining his jacket, looking sullen. She responded by almost kicking him in the crotch. 

“Thor, I don’t know if you remember, but I spent two years fooling them into thinking I was Odin, and then handed the Tesseract over to Thanos.” Loki looked away in a panic when a mother of two in the corner eyed him, frowning like she was trying to place him in her memory. “It’s highly unlikely that they have grown fond of me…if they were ever that,” Loki muttered under his breath. Thor would have none of that. 

“That’s all behind us, Loki. It’s been six years.” Thor clapped a hand on Loki’s shoulder. “The last time they saw you, you had emerged from the fog with a giant ship that had saved the rest of the population from our homicidal sister. I can guarantee the people look at you as a hero—“

“But won’t they wonder why I’m back from the dead? When their loved ones are not?” Loki swallowed and looked down to avoid eye contact when someone moved down past the line of people. “I can hardly see them joyous when their second prince returns, as their families lie cold in the grave.”

“You do realize you’ve been dead twice before this, and still showed up late with Starbucks to your own funeral?” Thor reminded him, deadpan. “I don’t think anyone is surprised you’ve returned, much less jealous.” 

“I…” Loki looked like he was about to protest again, but then he noticed someone on the other side of the store, and inexplicably paled. 

“Loki!” Thor turned to the sound of the voice. At first, he thought it was just some child with an unusually deep voice, seeing as the entire back table was spilling over with kids: teenagers and late tweens, all bright redheads with chubby cheeks. Then a woman with the same shade of hair stood up amongst the children, holding a seven-year-old boy in her arms. 

Hildegund. Volstagg’s widowed wife, and her eight children. 

Loki made a movement that looked like retreat, as Hildegund forced herself out from the table and rushed across the store.

“Loki!” She said again, and reached them in a matter of milliseconds. Love dropped out of Thor’s arms to go to her friends, Hildegund’s youngest twin girls. She was quickly replaced by the seven year old, thrown into his arms by Hildegund in seven seconds flat, who stared up at Thor like he was the most interesting thing he had ever encountered.

Loki was very still, and seemed to tense as Hildegund approached. He opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment she embraced him.

She crushed him so tight that Loki squeaked, his expression so comically bewildered Thor almost laughed. “Oh my Norns, Loki! I can’t…this is incredible. You’ve returned!” She pulled Loki back to arm length, and pinched his cheek, rubbing her thumb along his jaw as if trying to convince herself he was actually there. “At long last…you’re well? Eating enough?” She pulled up one of his arms and dropped it. “Hmm. Still too thin.” Loki looked like he was trying not to scowl. 

She turned to Thor. “You better be making sure he’s putting something in his body, the poor boy has gone through too much already.” 

“Believe me, I’m trying,” Thor says, both bemused and amused. “My brother has just returned to us recently, and I am endeavoring to fill him with so much food that he’ll look like a beach ball.”

“Honestly.” Loki rolled his eyes, but was crushed into another hug by the fiery woman. He carefully wound his arms around her at an awkward angle, sending Thor a plea for help over her shoulder. 

“Thor told us you were gone,” She said, squeezing him. “I feared the worst for so long. I’m glad you’ve returned, Loki. We’ve dearly missed our second Prince.”

Thor looked up from the child drooling on his shirt to see the emotions that flickered across Loki’s face at the words. Disbelief, raw sadness, something vulnerable. He opened his mouth, and closed it again, not sure what to say. 

“How are you here?” She asked. Ah. The inevitable question. Loki’s eyes flickered to Thor and back to her. Thor moved forward to help him bullshit his way through it.

“You know how Loki is, he slips his way through every problem.” Thor said, drawing up a smile. “Took him a bit, but he couldn’t stay away for long.”

“Yes, of course,” Loki put in smoothly, still looking a little caught off guard. “Someone needs to be Thor’s babysitter.” 

Thor scowled. Hildegund laughed, her face lit up with something that hadn’t been there before, and there was a motherly look in her eyes that reminded Thor sharply of Frigga. 

“I need to head back to the kids, they’ll burn down the shop if I stay away too long,” Hildegund said wistfully, looking back at her horde of demonic Asgardian children. She turned back to Loki after a beat, and surged forward once more, this time the hug lifting him entirely off of his feet. When she set him down, she stared him in the face, gave him a happy sigh, and straightened the collar of his borrowed button-up shirt (Thor’s). She gave his shoulders one final squeeze. “It is dearly good to see you, love. Your absence was a hole in all our hearts, every last Asgardian is missed every day, and to have one back, to have you back, is worthy of celebration.” 

She looked over at Thor sternly. “Feed him.” Thor held up his hands in surrender. 

And then she bustled off, taking the child from Thor’s hands (thank the Norns) as she left. 

Loki watched her go, his face awash with a thoughtful, almost wistful look to it. He looked like he didn’t really believe what had just transpired had actually happened. Thor moved closer to him in line and patted him on the back, offering him an encouraging smile. 

“Called it,” He said, gloatingly.

“Do shut up.” Loki rolled his eyes. “It was one person. And I’m certain her husband does not feel the same way about me. Volstagg was always—Thor?” He turned to Thor, who had gone still at the mention of his old friend’s name. It was like a slap to his heart, like someone was crushing his throat. 

“Thor?” Loki repeated, carefully. “What’s wrong?”

So he didn’t know. Thor let out a heavy breath that was slightly shaky. “At Hela’s attack…” He felt that he didn’t need to elaborate, and sure enough, when he turned to his brother, Loki looked stricken.

“Oh,” Loki stepped back, slightly, his face dropping into pure misery, and then, like a dawning slideshow, into what looked like apprehensive horror. “All of them?”

It took a moment for Thor to realize he meant the Warrior’s Three, which was also not fun for him to remember. “I’m afraid so.” He said, swallowing. He looked over at Hildegund, who was now holding one of her kids on a hip and ruffling another on the head, the oldest, who scowled and flattened his hair back down. 

The room was full of people, but it felt as cold as the grave. Loki reeled, the back of his hand covering his mouth. His eyes flashed to Hildegund and her slew of kids, and she waved at him. He went a shade of green and avidly looked away. “Oh.” He said in a very small voice. “Oh, Norns.” 

“Sif’s okay, though!” Thor scrambled, taking Loki’s wrist and pulling it down. “She wasn’t in Asgard during the attack!” 

“Fandral,” Loki was still staring past Thor, his eyes wide and horrified. “Hogunn. Oh, Norns, oh Norns.” 

“You had believed for All-Father-even-knows how long that you killed our mother, but our friends are what concerns you?” 

“That was different, I had time to,” Loki swallowed again, taking a shaky breath. Thor wanted to pull his fidgeting hands down and wrap his warm ones around them, but he stayed a little away to see what Loki would do. “I had time to process that. I didn’t even know about this, and now I’m here, and they’re not.” He gave a stuttering little laugh, a manic one devoid of humor. “Volstagg once told me I wouldn’t live as long as the rest of them, because of how bloody reckless I was. Look, now.” He stared down at his hands, coiled together and shaking.  

“Loki,” Thor breathed. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Loki looked up at him, caught off guard. “I didn’t say that.”

Denial. Lame. “But you were thinking about it.” 

“I—“ Loki started, and dropped his head, letting out a sigh. “I don’t want to fight on this.” 

Thor frowned, and he took Loki by the shoulder. Loki looked up at him, and as soon as he could, Thor dragged him forward into a bear hug. Loki let out a wet chuckle, and his hands tightened around Thor’s back. 

“Is this a random hug, or a I-don’t-think-you-killed-our-friends-hug?” 

“Both,” Thor squeezed Loki once before pulling away. Loki searched his face, and seemed satisfied, his features softening. 

“I’m sorry,” He said. 

“For what?”

“For…many things,” His eyes slid down past Thor’s face and he took a deep breath. “Primarily thinking that I could ever truly rid myself of you.”

Thor ignored the warm, punched feeling in his chest. “I’m like a barnacle. I latch on and you're stuck with me forever.”

“Like a back pimple.” Loki suggested helpfully.

“Not like a back pimple.” 

“What’s a back pimple?” A small voice piped up from their knee level. They both looked down. Love was staring almost completely 90 degrees upwards to see them, and she flashed an absurdly large smile. Thor ruffled her hair. 

“Nothing you need to worry about until you’re a teenager. Speaking of this gremlin,” He looks up at Loki. “Can you watch her?” 

“What? Why?” Loki looked positively alarmed at the notion. 

“I really, really need to pee.” He said apologetically, and shifted his weight to his other foot. 

“This whole time we’ve been having this edifying conversation, you’ve needed to take a shit?” Loki said with offense. 

“I can multitask,” Thor protested, and he bent down on one knee to Love. “Stay with Uncle Loki.”

“Is he gonna get me ice cream?” She reached up to pick her nose, and stopped when he raised an eyebrow at her. He had been trying to get her out of that habit before she defaced every landmark in a fifty-mile radius with boogers. 

“If I don’t come back when you reach the front of the line, yes, he will.” 

She looked up at Loki with a slightly tilted head. “I’m allergic to peanut butter.”

Loki leveled her with a confounded expression, and turned it on Thor. “She actually is,” Thor explained. “And Rocky Road isn’t made of asphalt, I learned that the hard way.”

“She can shoot lasers from her eyes, but she’s allergic to peanut butter?” He said slowly. “And how do you learn what an ice cream tastes like the hard way?” 

“When you try to make it at home,” Thor gets back to his feet with an old man grunt. “That was also the day we learned about Love’s allergy. It lives in my nightmares.” He gave a shudder. “I’m going to the bathroom. Don’t burn down Baskin Robbins.” 

He left quickly, before anything could stop him from taking the godliest piss in Midgard. Love sent Loki a gap-toothed grin that made him very nervous. 

The line didn’t seem to have moved an inch in the last ten minutes. Loki glanced to the bathroom hall, and down to the child by his side. A few minutes ago, she had snuck her hand in his, soft and weirdly sticky, clamping around his index finger. 

“What’s your favorite dinosaur?” 

“What?” He turned back to her, but she was spinning one of her feet like a ballerina doing a half-turn. Her boot had little rhinestones on the side. Loki wasn’t entirely sure what for.

“Dinosaurs,” She declared, and gave his arm an experimental swing. When she didn’t receive any backlash, she did it again, harder. Loki felt like his shoulder would unlatch from his socket if it kept up. 

“I don’t know,” He said truthfully. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to have a favorite dinosaur. He wasn’t even fully sure what a dinosaur was. “What’s yours?” 

“Brachiosaurus.” How she said that so smoothly, and mispronounced any other word with more than two syllables was one of the great mysteries of the universe. “It’s tall and it’s all green.” Loki nodded, and she looked up at him, squinting to blur out his features. “You’re also kinda tall and green.” 

“Thanks,” Loki said reluctantly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes and biting back a smile. “How do you know it’s green? I thought they were all dead.”

“I dunno,” She stomped her foot on the ground, and the resulting thump explained to Loki exactly why her shoes had rhinestones. They began to light up in various LED shades of purple and pink. The result was ridiculous and exactly something a ten-year-old would wear. “Hazel said they have feathers, but that’s stupid. Auntie Val let me watch Jurassic Park and none of those dinosaurs have feathers.” She froze, and sent Loki a guilty grin. “Don’t tell Uncle Thor I watched that.”

“Why? What’s it about?” 

“Dinosaurs eating people,” She said proudly. 

Loki nodded. “Delightful.” In his opinion, he’d probably let his child watch that. His best bet was that Thor wanted Love to not be exposed too early to violent shows, but that’s so boring. That’s probably why Loki didn’t have any kids. “Your secret remains safe with me.” 

She smiled again, and turned her attention to his fingers, using both hands to splay his fingers apart. Then she began crossing his index and middle for absolutely no reason. He felt like a mannequin. 

After a moment, she said “You’re cool.” 

“What?” Loki almost forgot to keep the motion she had put his fingers in, but unfazed, she modeled a circle with his index and thumb and put her face to it like an eyeglass. She directed her singular wide eyeball to Loki’s astonished face. 

“You’re cool,” She repeated. “Uncle Thor used to talk about you a lot.” 

Loki felt his soul melt like a candy bar in a baby’s hand. “He did?”

“Yeah, then he got sad and wouldn’t do it for a while,” She explained. “He does that sometimes. Auntie Val took him out for coffee and then he was okay. Do you wear horns?”

Loki blinked. “Sometimes.”

“Are they heavy?” 

He huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, they’re fairly heavy.”

“Then why do you wear them?” 

“Because they look cool,” He protested, starting to feel like he was defending his fashion taste to literally everyone in Asgard again. God, even ten year olds were judgemental. “Why do you wear rhinestone boots?”

She looks down at her shoes. “Cause they look cool—oh.” 

He snorted. She sent him as much of a look as a ten-year-old could muster, which wasn’t really much of one. She stepped on his foot in retaliation, but Loki had grown up with a sibling. He pulled his foot back with lightning-speed reflexes and bonked her lightly on the side of her leg, making her yelp and giggle. She resumed her grip on his hand. 

More silence. Had they even moved at all? Loki craned his neck, but the same singular server was still at the front, looking harried and ranting off types of cones to a pair of deaf old women. 

“One of the kids in my tap class knows you,” Love announced, and she swung Loki’s hand back and forth. He turned his attention back to her, intrigued. “She said that she was there when Asgard was still a thing.”

That meant that the child had known Loki as Odin, and then seen the collapse of the Realm itself. Loki winced, he didn’t think he’d like where this was going. 

“She said you were evil.” There it was. Well, she had good reasons for it. Loki regarded Love carefully. 

“Do you think I’m evil?”

She was quiet just long enough to make Loki nervous, and then shrugged. “Nah. You’ve got good hair, and Uncle Thor lets me eat waffles when you're around. I think you’re pretty okay.” 

Loki absently reached for his hair with one hand, and tamped down a smile, looking back towards the front so she couldn’t see his expression. 

“Can I have Rocky Road?”

“Absolutely not.”