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Chapter Text

Dr. Strange had just finished making himself a cup of tea, when the Undesirable Entity spell alarm went off. That meant that the protection spell he had cast over New-York City had caught some dangerous visitor in its net.

He had cast the spell years ago, after a bet with Wong. It was designed to protect the city from dangerous intruders, namely of the sort seeking world-domination. Unfortunately, there were so many of them that it was hard to keep track. Also unfortunately, the spell was not able to read minds, so it only caught individuals that had been named in advance. That was how it got Loki years ago, but not any of the members of the Black Order when they dropped in for a visit.

Dr. Strange sighed. He had the impulse to ignore the alarm and just drink his tea, but curiosity got the better of him.

“Ugh,” he said eventually, and cast the spell that would reveal the identity of the prisoner. When the answer appeared, he just stared at it.

“It couldn’t be…” he mumbled to himself, and cast the spell again.

He got the same result.

“Loki?” Strange asked himself, perplexed. “But how…?”

I thought he was dead.

After a few moments deep in thoughts, Dr. Strange straightened his back.

“Come on,” he told the cloak, which flew immediately to wrap itself around his shoulders. “We need to pop off to Norway for a while.”

*

Thor was making dinner. At least, he was trying to. The kitchen looked like a bomb went off in it, spraying tomato sauce everywhere. A loud rock song was playing in the background, and Thor was humming to himself while stirring the sauce. Love was at the kitchen table, doing her homework. She was chewing the end of her pencil, bobbing her head up and down to the rhythm. She looked almost like a normal kid, except for the brown tattoos around her eyes. A gigantic axe was leaned against the chair she was sitting in.

All of a sudden, a glowing portal appeared in the middle of the dining room. Immediately, Thor flexed his hand, summoning Mjolnir. Love jumped to her feet, swinging Stormbreaker with one hand.

“Whoa, whoa, relax, it’s ok, it’s me!” said the wizard who stepped out of the portal. Thor and Love lowered their weapons. Love gave Thor a questioning look.

“It’s ok, Love. He’s a friend,” Thor said, and Love shrugged.

“Ok,” she said shortly and laid down the axe.

“Hello, wizard, nice of you to come for a visit,” Thor said jovially. “Have you met Love? She’s my adopted daughter.”

Love waved noncommittally.

“And Just in time for dinner, too!” Thor said. “Would you like to join us?”

Dr. Strange looked from Thor to Love, taking in the homework strewn all over the table and the general chaos in the room.

“Er, no thank you,” he said. “Listen, Thor. I come here on business. I need your advice with something back in New-York.”

“New-York?” Love perked up in her seat. “Can we go, Uncle Thor?”

“How urgent is it?” Thor asked. “Because the pasta is almost ready.”

“Very,” Dr. Strange said, fighting not to roll his eyes. “How soon can you come?”

“Oh, well. I suppose we could join you for a moment,” Thor said. “Come on, Love.”

“Wait, you’re bringing the kid?!” Strange asked. “It could be dangerous.”

“Well, I can’t very well leave her here without a babysitter, can I? On second thought, I also can’t leave here with a babysitter. She nearly killed the last one.”

“I did not!” Love said, getting out of her seat and grabbing hold of Stormbreaker. “I only singed off some of her hair. She really overacted, I swear.”

“Er, ok…” Strange mumbled to himself. “I take it you have powers?”

Love shrugged.

“Don’t be modest, Love!” Thor said, enthusiastic. “Of course she has powers, she has great powers! I have seen grown men cower in fear at her feet! The cries of her enemies –“

“Uncle Thor, let’s go already!” Love cut him off, impatient.

“Ok, ok,” Thor said, putting up his hands. “Just wear your boots, Love.”

*

After Thor turned off the stove, Love put on her boots (and Strange cast a quick cleaning spell on the kitchen) the three of them crossed a portal back to the Sanctum.

“Oh, hey!” Love said, excited. “What it this place?”

“This is the Sanctum Sanctorum,” Strange answered, puffing up in pride. “It protects the world against invasions from the Dark Dimention.”

“Cool,” Love said.

“So…” Thor said, “you said you had an urgent matter to discuss?”

“Oh, yeah,” strange said. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but…um, remember a few years ago, when you came to New-York together with your brother?”

“Yes, of course,” Thor said, “we were looking for our father. You caught Loki in the most amusing falling spell, if I remember correctly.”

“That’s right,” strange said. “And this morning it happened again.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The spell. This morning. It caught Loki in New-York,” Strange repeated.

“That’s impossible,” Thor said.

“That’s what I said,” Strange agreed.

“My brother is dead,” Thor insisted. “He was murdered by Thanos right in front of my eyes. Er, eye. So, it couldn’t be him.”

“The spell says it is,” Strange insisted.

“Well, it isn’t,” Thor said. “You’ve caught someone else. Sorry. Now please, take me home.”

“Just in case,” Strange said, and opened the portal to the spell space.

A person fell out of the portal, slamming down on the floor of the Sanctum lobby. Surprisingly enough, that person was a woman. She was of slight build, wearing a large overcoat, and had curly blond hair that flew over her head as she flipped it. She had the most murderous look Strange had ever seen.

“I have been falling for thirty minutes!!” she screamed, jumping to her feet and drawing a rather intimidating machete. She gave them all a menacing look, growling. Love, in her perch on the stairs, perked up.

“See?” Thor asked, triumphant. “Told you.”

Strange just stared, open mouthed.

“What’s going on?” the woman asked. She still hadn’t lowered her sword.

“Many apologies,” Thor said, suddenly a lot more princely. “It seems that the wizard here made a mistake.”

“I did not make a mistake!” Strange insisted. He turned to the woman and, rather accusingly, asked “Who are you?”

“Me?” the woman replied, snarling. “Who are you?”

“Dr. Strange,” Strange said. “This is my house.”

“Am I supposed to believe that’s your real name?” the woman asked.

Strange rolled his eyes.

“Every fucking time,” he mumbled.

The woman turned her attention back to Thor.

“What am I doing here?” she asked.

“The wizard thought you were my brother,” Thor said. “Which couldn’t be,” he added, giving Strange and accusatory look, “because he’s dead.”

Lowering her sword, the woman gave Thor a rather pointed look.

“And you are…” she asked eventually.

“Thor, son of Odin,” Thor said.

The woman grew pale.

“Thor?” she asked weakly.

“Yes. You’ve heard of me? I’m an avenger. Quite famous, really. I fought in the battle of New-York…er, that was against my brother, actually. He was, eh…working through some feelings.”

“I’ve heard of you,” the woman said. She seemed shocked.

“What I’m trying to figure out,” Strange tried to reel in the conversation, “is why did my spell catch you?”

“No idea,” the woman said. “I was walking down the street, minding my own business, when all of a sudden a portal appeared under me, and I fell through; and then I just kept falling. For half an hour,” she added pointedly, giving Strange a homicidal look.

“And your name is?” Strange asked.

“What’s it to you?” she asked defensively.

“Just trying to figure out why the spell picked you up,” Strange explained.

“Sylvie,” the woman said reluctantly, “and I’m clearly not the person you’re looking for, so I’m gonna go now.”

Strange narrowed his eyes, but nevertheless stepped out of the way.

“Of course,” he said with excessive politeness. “You’re free to go. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

She gave him a suspicious look through narrowed eyes. Then she nodded and marched purposefully towards the door, not giving Thor and Love a single glance.

“She seemed nice,” Love said glumly after the door slammed behind her.

“Come on, Love,” Thor said, sounding a bit sad. “Let’s go home.”

“Wait,” Strange said.

Thor and Love gave him curious looks.

Strange lifted a finger in the air for emphasis.

“Three…Two…One…”

The alarm went off. Triumphant, Strange again opened a portal to the magic space, and the woman fell out of it, hitting the floor with a resolute thud.

“Arrg!” She growled, obviously furious. “Why does it keep doing that!”

“Because it thinks you are Loki,” Strange said, smug. “Care to tell me why that is?”

“I already told you, I have no idea!” the woman insisted.

“Remind me, what was your name again?” Strange asked.

The woman rolled her eyes, clearly exasperated.

“Sylvie,” She repeated, her voice acidic.

“Sylvie what?”

Sylvie took a deep breath and, shuffling her feet, turned her gaze back to Thor.

“Laufydottir,” she said quietly.

“Laufy…? King of Jotunheim? Are you Loki’s sister?!”

“No!” the woman scoffed. “Loki’s sister, please.”

“Wait!” Dr. Strange cut in, suddenly understanding. “Of course she isn’t Loki’s sister. She is Loki!”

Thor scoffed.

“Don’t be ridiculous, wizard. She obviously isn’t Loki, I mean, look at her!”

“Excuse me?” Sylvie asked, indignant.

“I mean no offence,” Thor said, laying a hand over his heart. “It’s just that my brother had a sense for the theatrics. If he were to come back as a woman, I suspect he’ll pick a look that’s a bit more dramatic.”

Sylvie looked down at herself, perplexed.

“I think you look great,” Love piped up. “Love the boots!”

“Oh, thanks!” Sylvie said, brightening up. “They’re really comfortable, you know?”

“I bet they’re really good for kicking people,” Love said.

“Yeah, they are, actually,” Sylvie agreed. “They’re great kicking boots.”

Strange, baffled by the turn in the conversation, tried to rein everyone in.

“I didn’t mean she was literally Loki,” he tried to explain. “I meant she’s a Loki. You are, aren’t you? You’re his variant!”

“Please,” the woman scoffed. “If anyone is anyone’s variant, then he’s mine.”

 “What’s a variant?” Thor asked, perplexed.

“She’s Loki from another universe,” Strange explained. “They’re called variants.”

“Another universe?” Thor asked, clearly confused. “Since when are there more then one?”

“Look, I go by Sylvie now,” Sylvie cut in. “And I’m clearly not the guy you were worried about, so I think I’ll just…”

“No way,” Strange said, hovering down to block the sanctum door. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Try and stop me.”

“Don’t have to,” Strange said. “The spell will just pick you up again.”

The woman scoffed. “You know I can go wherever I want,” she said.

“Can you?” Strange asked.

“Don’t,” Thor said quietly. “Please. Stay a while…sister.”

The woman gave him a peculiar look. For a second it looked like she was about to cry.

“I’m not your sister,” she said gently. “And I’m definitely not your brother.”

“I know,” Thor said, “I’m sorry. Just…stay, ok? We’ll have drinks. Wizard, magic us drinks.”

Strange rolled his eyes, but waved his hands and all of a sudden the four of them were in another room. They were sitting on four plush chairs, each with a drink in their hand. Strange had his tea, magically reheated; Thor and Sylvie had mugs full of ale; and Love had hot cocoa with whipped cream and marshmallows.

“Oh, yay!” she said happily, sipping from the drink and giving herself a foamy mustache.

“Cheers,” Strange said, taking a sip from his tea. Thor lugged half the mug of ale, while Sylvie laid hers down on the table, untouched. She seemed uncomfortable.

“So,” Strange said eventually, “how did you get into this universe, and is it possible you caused an incursion?”

“Tempad,” the woman said absentmindedly. “They don’t cause incursions.”

“What’s a tempad?” Love asked.

“It’s a device that lets you travel through space and time,” Sylvie said. “Without damaging the timeline,” she added, giving Strange a pointed look.

“Why New York?” Strange asked.

“Heard the pizza was good,” Sylvie said.

“Seriously.”

“What, it isn’t?” she asked innocently, and Thor laughed.

“But how are you Loki?” he asked.

“Sylvie,” she corrected mechanically.

“But you are a variant of Loki, aren’t you?” Strange asked.

“Yes,” Sylvie said reluctantly. She looked sad again. “But it’s been a long time since I went by that name.”

“Why?” Thor asked. “Don’t you like it? Or were you just trying to annoy mother?”

“I haven’t seen my parents since I was a little girl,” Sylvie said shortly. “Or my Thor.”

“Wait, was your Thor a girl too?” Love asked, interested.

Sylvie chuckled. “No,” she said.

“What happened?” Thor asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” Sylvie said.

“You know, my Loki was much chattier,” Thor said.

“Yeah,” Sylvie scoffed. “It’s getting him to shut up that’s the problem, isn’t it?”

Both Thor and Strange froze. Sylvie, realizing what she’d said, bit her lower lip nervously.

“You’ve…met Loki?” Thor asked eventually. “My Loki?”

“No,” Sylvie said, resolute.

“You know, I do have enough experience to recognize when Loki is lying,” Thor said, serious.

“Ok, you got me, Sherlock,” Sylvie spat. “Yes, I know…knew Loki. So what?”

“So, he’s dead,” Thor said patiently.

“I’m aware,” She replied.

“And you’re from another universe,” he added.

“Well, technically,” she said. “I usually refer to them as timelines, but ok.”

“Timelines?” Strange asked. “And you travel between them with a device called a…I want to say tampon, but that seems wrong.”

“Tempad,” Sylvie corrected.

“But when did you meet Loki?” Thor asked. “And how?”

“A few years ago, and it wasn’t exactly your Loki,” Sylvie said.

“Another variant?” Strange asked.

“Infinite timelines, infinite number of variants,” Sylvie said, impatient. “Look, I’ve really done nothing wrong, ok? I was just walking down the street. And I’d really like to get back to that now.”

“No can do, I’m afraid,” Strange said. “The spell is automatic, you see. You set a foot out there, it’ll grab you again.”

The woman growled.

“Fine,” she said, swiping the bracelet on her left wrist. “Then I’ll go home.”

A glowing orange portal, about the size of a door, sprang to life beside her. She got up to go through it, but Thor stopped her.

“Sylvie, wait, don’t go,” he asked. “Please. We’ve only just met.”

“It’s not you I’m trying to get away from,” she said, giving Strange a look.

“Come to New Asgard with us, then.” Love suggested. “No spell will catch you there.”

“Yeah, and he’s not invited,” Thor added cheerfully. “No offence, wizard.”

“None taken,” Strange said. He was actually relieved that the problem was about to be taken out of his hands. “I’m happy as long as there isn’t a single Loki in New York,” he added.

“That’s racist,” Love said accusingly.

Sylvie sighed, and swiped her wrist again. The strange glowing door vanished.

“Wizard, please send us home,” Thor asked. Strange, only happy to oblige, opened a portal back to Thor’s dining room.

“Good luck,” Strange said as the three of them left through the portal. It wasn’t clear which of them it was aimed at.

Chapter Text

As the portal to the sanctum closed behind them, Sylvie looked around Thor’s little cottage. It was cosy, which is to say it was a mess, but a lovely, lived in kind of mess. There were clothes and pictures and knickknacks everywhere. From the kitchen she could detect the strong aroma of warm, fresh food, and her stomach growled.

“Hungry?” Thor asked brightly. Sylvie gave him a cautious look and shrugged.

“Come on,” Thor’s little girl said, laying her giant axe on the floor and leading the way into the kitchen.

“What’s your name?” Sylvie asked.

“Love,” the girl said.

“Nice to meet you,” Sylvie said.

Thor followed them into the kitchen, and began the task of filling plates with pasta and sauce while Love cleared some papers from the dining table. She threw them carelessly in a pile on a nearby chair, and some of them promptly fell to the floor. Sylvie raised her eyebrows.

“Didn’t know you had a kid,” Sylvie mentioned as Thor placed food in front of her.

“I’m adopted,” Love supplied helpfully.

“Really? So am I,” Sylvie said, liking the kid even more.

“Oh, so you know,” Thor said absentmindedly.

“Yeah,” Sylvie said. “I always knew. Um…Loki told me that he didn’t.”

“No,” Thor said shortly. “I didn’t either. He found out by accident and it…it did not end well.”

“He tried to take over New-York?” Sylvie asked, amused.

“Yes, with an alien army,” Thor rolled his eyes. “I told you, he’s dramatic.”

They both chuckled.

“Were you really in New-York for the pizza?” Love asked.

Sylvie shrugged.

“Partly. I mean, I’ve never seen New-York when it wasn’t on the brink of destruction, so…”

“What do you mean?” Thor asked.

Sylvie shrugged.

“It’s complicated,” was all she said.

“Try me,” Thor suggested.

“No, thanks,” Sylvie said with finality.

When it became clear she was not going to add any more, Thor dropped the subject. For a few minutes, the three of them sat in awkward silence. Sylvie was doing her best not to freak them out with her table manners, although Love ate like someone who’d never seen food before. Thor, for his part, ate so much that he even put Sylvie to shame. Although, with that amount of muscle, she supposed it couldn’t be helped.

“You know, last time I saw my Thor he was just a kid,” Sylvie said eventually. “Didn’t think you’d grow up to be so…big.”

“Are you calling me fat, sister?” Thor asked, amused.

“No,” Sylvie said impatiently, “just big. I mean, you’re like a mountain!”

Thor grinned, clearly proud of himself.

“And I’m not your sister,” Sylvie added helpfully.

“Sure you’re not,” Thor said cheerfully. “More pasta?”

“Yes, please,” Sylvie said gruffly.

“So, Sylvie,” Thor said as he was refilling her plate. “Tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?” Sylvie asked, on guard.

“Oh, just the usual,” Thor said. “Life story, hobbies, favorite colors…how you got here from a different universe, how you met my brother, that sort of thing.”

Sylvie glared at him.

He smiled innocently.

Love looked from one to the other, amused.

“Go on,” Thor said airily.

“I could still leave, you know,” Sylvie said coldly.

“Of course,” Thor said, courteous.

“Oh, don’t go yet,” Love pleaded, “he’s just curious.”

Sylvie gave her a look and sighed.

“Life story: born on Jotunheim, adopted by Odin, grew up in Asgard until I was abducted as a child by an evil organization that controls all of space and time. I ran away and hid in apocalypses for hundreds of years, planning my revenge on the people who stole my life. Just as I was about to succeed with my plan I was intercepted by the most annoying man that ever lived, who turned all my plans upside down and nearly got me killed several times…only to eventually help me find the person behind everything, try to get me not to kill him, and failing. So I got him out of the way, killed the man responsible for my miserable life, and after that I worked for a while in McDonald’s in the 1980s.”

Thor and Love stared at her, opened mouthed.

“Oh, my hobbies are listening to music and fighting, and my favorite colors are black, gold and green.”

Thor just looked at her. He seemed dazed.

“Wait,” he said finally, “did you say you were intercepted by the most annoying man that ever lived?”

Sylvie nodded.

“Was that…Loki?”

Sylvie grinned.

“So you do know your brother.”

“But how…why…what was he doing there?” Thor asked, confused.

Sylvie frowned.

“From what I know, he did something he wasn’t supposed to and got picked up by the TVA. That’s the fascistic time-police that was after me,” she added helpfully. “They, in turn, brought him in to help catch me, because he was another Loki.”

“He did something he wasn’t supposed to?” Thor asked, confused. “What do you mean?”

Sylvie scrunched her nose.

“I told you, it’s a long story.”

“Please,” Thor asked. “I’m just trying to understand.”

“I don’t know what it was,” Sylvie said, “we never actually got to that. But according to the TVA there was only one way the story was allowed to go, and Loki did something that wasn’t according to his story. As I did, when I was a child. So the TVA got him, and he found me, and he ended up helping me defeat the man behind it all.”

“And he betrayed you at the last minute?” Thor asked. He sounded exasperated.

“I…saw it that way, at the time,” Sylvie said hesitantly. “Eventually, I realized that wasn’t what he was trying to do. Loki was just worried that we were making a mistake, but I wouldn’t listen. I just had to kill him. So, I did,” she said defiantly.

“And Loki?” Thor asked.

“Oh, I pushed him through a time-door,” Sylvie said, shrugging. “He was in the way,” she added, a little guiltily.

“And you never saw him again?” Thor asked.

“No, I saw him again,” Sylvie said breezily. “Yeah, he showed up after a few months, bothered me at work. I was really mad at him.”

“Wait, so he survived?” Thor asked, surprised.

Sylvie gave him a scandalized glance.

“He’s a Loki,” she said pointedly. “Of course he survived.”

“So then what happened?” Love asked enthusiastically. Unlike her adoptive father, she was picking up on some strong emotions Sylvie harbored for Loki, and she was intrigued.

Sylvie looked at her, suddenly shy.

“Then he…asked for my help. We argued a lot. He wanted to save the TVA and use it for good, and I wanted to burn it to the ground. Eventually, he convinced me to help him but…” she trailed off.

“So then he died?” Thor asked helpfully.

Sylvie frowned.

“You seem to be obsessed with the idea of him dying,” she accused.

“Well, he does it a lot,” Thor said, “and it usually doesn’t stick, so I’m just making sure.”

Sylvie shook her head.

“No,” she said quietly. “He…didn’t die, no.”

Thor perked up.

“So where is he?” he asked enthusiastically. “Is he still at the…TVA?”

“No,” Sylvie said, suddenly enormously sad. She always turned sad when she thought about Loki’s fate. “No, he’s not there. He ended up sacrificing himself to save the TVA. To save…everyone. Everything. To give us all a chance to live our lives as we choose. But he…he had to stay at the end of time. He managed to arrange all the branches of time into a giant tree, and now he’s stuck holding everything together. Forever, probably. So, he didn’t die, but he is gone,” she added, and wiped a stray tear that found its way down her cheek.

“Do you like him?” Love asked, excited.

“No,” Sylvie said, too fast, “but he is my…friend, you know? I miss him.”

“And you can’t visit him?” Thor asked, curious. “With that, you know, door portal thing?”

“I don’t think he’d want to see me,” Sylvie said, taken aback.

“Nonsense, of course he’d want to see you,” Thor said confidently. “He went to live in a tree for you, didn’t he?”

“Well, not just for me…” Sylvie tried to explain.

“Besides, I want to see him,” Thor added. “I need to kick his ass for faking his death. Again.”

“He didn’t fake his death, Thor,” Sylvie said helplessly, “Your Loki did die, mine just never got to that point.”

“Ha, I knew you liked him!” Love called triumphantly, and Sylvie rolled her eyes.

“And besides, I don’t even know if he’d want to see anyone,” she added. “I don’t even know if there’s room in there, I mean, it’s a tree.”

“I have to see it,” Thor insisted. “Loki’s own Yggdrasil,” he added, “it’s probably magnificent. He was always good with magic, you know.”

Sylvie nodded mechanically.

“Come on, let’s go!” Love called, excited, and Sylvie gave in and swiped her tempad, thinking of Loki.

*

She made Love leave the axe at home.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea to bring that near a tree where every branch contains millions of lives,” she said. Love looked momentarily disappointed, but then just shrugged and skipped happily through the time-door.

Thor, suddenly quite grim, called Mjolnir into his hand and went through the door after her. Sylvie followed close behind him with a tremor in her heart.

She really was worried that Loki wouldn’t want to see her, and also (and she didn’t tell Thor that) of what he was like, now. She had no idea how he managed the insane feat of grabbing all of time with his bare hands, or why all that temporal energy didn’t seem to affect him at all. Something about him was different that day, or maybe just the moment he went downstairs to the gangway without saying goodbye.

She knew why he did that, of course. She and Mobius would never have let him go. She did notice he was distressed, and he was obviously sad, but he was also serene; he realized what his fate was and accepted it, for her. For all of them.

She just wished he’d given her a warning. Anything.

The image of him looking back at her at the observation deck, his eyes calm and those horns on his head, would never leave her till her dying breath. She still dreamed of it every night. She saw it whenever she closed her eyes.

In all honesty, she didn’t go to New York for the pizza (although she did hear, from both Mobius and B-15, that it was excellent). She was going to the Avengers museum to learn about the battle of New-York. She wanted to see that moment in Loki’s life, when he’d lost it so completely that he planned to enslave an entire planet. She wanted to see him in his armor. She missed him.

On the other side of the time door, she was greeted by a soft green glow. She arrived just in time to see Love’s and Thor’s stunned expressions as they looked up, up, up at Loki’s magnificent time tree.

“Wow,” Love said, awestruck. “Uncle Loki did that?”

“Yeah,” Sylvie said quietly, her heart swelling with pride. She never actually saw the tree before, only it’s representation on the TVA monitors.

“It’s magnificent,” Thor said reverently.

Sylvie smiled sadly.

“It is.”

“Where is he, though?” Thor asked. All they could see were thousands upon thousands of time branches, all swaying lightly in an invisible breeze.

“I don’t know,” Sylvie said. “In there somewhere.”

“And you couldn’t open the door closer to him?” Thor asked.

Sylvie shrugged.

“Well, I guess we should try to find a way in,” Love said, practically.

“Yes, let’s,” Thor agreed.

Sylvie looked around. At the center of the tree, she noticed, the green light shone brighter. It seemed to be where the branches were wound more tightly around each-other. She could feel the magic flowing from there, a magic signature she knew very well. It was nearly identical to her own magic; nearly, but not quite.

“He’s in there,” she pointed.

“Are you sure?” Thor asked.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I can feel his magic.”

Thor nodded curtly.

“How do we get to him?” he asked.

“Carefully,” Sylvie said. “Just…don’t break anything. Every single branch of that tree is an entire universe.”

Love winced.

“And no swinging that hammer,” Sylvie added warningly.

“As if there’s even room for that,” Thor said.

“Uncle Thor!” Love called from where she was standing and examining the tree. “I found a gap!”

Thor and Sylvie went to join her, and the three of them made their way gingerly to the center of the tree. It was delicate, time consuming work, weaving their way around and under branches, making sure not to break or bend anything too much. For a long time they worked in silence, steadily making their way towards the bright, green center of the tree. Love, being the smallest, led the way, and Thor was in the back, struggling to fit his bulk through the gaps easily accessed by the small child and the lithe woman.

“I found him!” Love called finally, and Sylvie stepped after her into a hollow in the middle of the tree. For a moment she just stood there, her eyes locked with Loki’s, and she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Loki just stared at her, seemingly star-struck, and said nothing as well.

After a moment, though, his attention was usurped by the unceremonious arrival of a very disgruntled, heavily panting Thor.

“Brother!” Thor bellowed, cheerful. “So good to see you! Sylvie said you are now the guardian of all time. Congratulations! Well done,” he said, while Loki’s eyes bulged in horror.

“You brought Thor?!” he asked Sylvie accusingly.

“He insisted,” Sylvie said meekly.

“She didn’t really want to come,” Love pointed out helpfully, “but we asked really nicely that she take us.”

“No, Love, I did want to come,” Sylvie said weakly.

“Yes, she did, brother,” Thor agreed. “She just didn’t know if you’d want to see her, which I knew was nonsense. So here we are!”

Loki looked at him, dazed. It suddenly seemed to dawn on him that his brother was here, at the end of time, and with Sylvie no less. And also…

“Who are you?” Loki asked Love, who simply smirked.

“I’m Love,” she said proudly.

“She’s my daughter,” Thor explained. Loki looked at him, surprised.

“Is she…did you and that Midgardian…?”

“Jane?” Thor asked, looking pained all of a sudden. “Uh, no. Jane passed away, sadly.”

“I’m adopted!” Love supplied helpfully.

Loki looked back at her, suddenly moved to tears.

“Are you?” he asked.

“Jane’s idea,” Thor said. “She was smart until the very end, my Jane.”

“So she was,” Loki said quietly. Then, after a thought, added “It’s good to see you, brother.”

“And you,” Thor said. “I couldn’t believe it when Sylvie told us you were alive. I had to see you,” he added.

Loki nodded.

“You also know I’m not your Loki, right?” he asked carefully.

“Sure you are,” Thor said. “Every Loki is my Loki.”

Sylvie looked at him, touched.

“Even her?” Loki asked playfully, gesturing at her, and she rolled her eyes.

“Idiot,” she muttered under her breath, and Loki gave her a dazzling grin.

“Of course!” Thor said, grabbing Sylvie by the shoulder. “I always wanted a sister! Well, a non-murderous one, at least.”

Loki burst out laughing.

“I suspect you’ll find that you only got half that wish,” he said.

“Hey!” Sylvie said, indignant. “I did what I had to do!”

“I know,” Loki said honestly, “but you have to admit you are kind of stabby.”

“Please,” Sylvie said, “as if you were ever in the peace corps.”

Loki sniggered.

“I only stabbed like, what, 50, 60 people? How many did you get? 400?”

“Well, yeah,” Sylvie said, rolling her eyes, “but I didn’t stab all of them.”

“Well, it does get boring after a while, doesn’t it?”

“I mean, you’ve got to get creative with it,” Sylvie said. “Don’t want to repeat myself too much, you know?”

“Sure,” Loki agreed whole heartedly.

Thor was looking from one to the other as if their conversation was a tennis match. Love was watching with equal interest, her eyes twinkling. The smile gradually came off Loki’s face, as he was gazing at Sylvie with uncomfortably keen eyes. Sylvie lowered her eyes, shuffling her feet.

“So, um…how are you?” Loki asked finally. “You okay?”

Sylvie nodded, suddenly looking up and blinking fast.

“Yeah,” she eventually choked out. “You?”

“Yes,” he said gently. “Yes, I am.”

“Good,” Sylvie said, looking back down at her feet. “Good, good.”

“Ok!” Thor bellowed, breaking the tension.

Loki and Sylvie looked at him as if they completely forgot he was there.

“Is there anywhere to sit here?” Love asked with a whiney voice. “My legs are tired from all the walking!”

Loki looked around him as if seeing the place for the first time.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I wasn’t planning on guests. Here,” he added, and gave the time-branches a nudge. They dispersed slightly, revealing more of the floor space around him. Sylvie recognized the ruins of He Who Remains’ office, and after some scrutiny realized that Loki’s throne had been his chair.

“So,” she said as Love plopped down on the floor with relief, “you ended up here in the end.”

“I did,” Loki said. “Wasn’t planning on it, but…”

“Nice throne,” Thor said. “Very…pointy.”

“Thank you,” Loki said icily.

“So what is it you do up here?” Thor asked. “Besides holding all of time together?”

Loki shrugged.

“Nothing,” he said. “I…look over the timelines. See people’s stories. I…bear witness, I suppose.”

“To people’s lives?” Sylvie asked quietly. She sounded heartbroken.

Loki nodded.

“Can you see anyone?” Love asked.

“In theory,” Loki said, “but in reality there are so many timelines that it’s fairly hard to keep track. I did, um…I did see you went to Asgard, on the Sacred Timeline,” he told Sylvie, who blushed. “Did you enjoy our variant’s play?”

“It was ridiculous,” Sylvie mumbled.

“Yes, it was, wasn’t it?” Loki asked.

“I only caught the end of it, myself,” Thor said. “It was kind of silly, I must admit.”

“I left before the end,” Sylvie said, and Loki gasped in mock-offence.

“Didn’t miss much,” Thor said cheerfully.

“What else did you see?” Sylvie asked Loki, her voice quiet.

Loki looked from her to Thor to Love, and said nothing.

“Do you ever look at us?” Love asked, interested.

“I haven’t actually, no,” Loki admitted.

“What, nothing?” Thor asked, offended, “not even to check if your dear brother was alive?”

“Don’t go all offended on me now,” Loki rolled his eyes, “I figured you were doing fine. I did see you left the crown of Asgard to that Valkyrie person.”

“She’s awesome,” Love said.

“A Valkyrie?” Sylvie asked, suddenly excited.

“Yes,” Thor agreed. “You’d love her. She’s also…how did you put it? Quite ‘stabby’.”

Sylvie brightened up.

“So you don’t live there,” Loki said quietly.

Sylvie shook her head.

“Still in Oklahoma?”

“No,” she said. “Right now I’m more, ah…between places.”

“I see,” Loki said. “Looking for your glorious purpose?”

Sylvie chuckled sadly.

“We can’t all go off saving the entire multiverse,” she said.

Loki nodded.

“I know.”

They smiled at each other sadly.

“You should stay with them,” Loki gestured with his head to Thor and Love. “I’m sure they’d love to have you.”

“Yes, stay!” Love said, excited.

“Yes, you should,” Thor agreed, suddenly serious. “You are Asgardian, after all. Your place is with your people.”

“I have no people,” Sylvie said impatiently, but she was looking at Loki, who only smiled.

“We’ll be your people!” Love exclaimed. “Come on, Auntie Sylvie!”

“Yes, Auntie Sylvie,” Loki repeated, smirking. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint your niece, would you now?”

He could tell Sylvie was touched because, instead of the murderous look he was expecting, she gave him a wistful smile.

“I suppose I could,” she said hesitantly, “for a while.”

“Yay!” Love exclaimed, jumping to her feet in excitement.

“On one condition,” Sylvie added warningly.

“Name it, sister,” Thor said.

“You tell no one who I really am. If I live in New Asgard I’m to only be Sylvie to them, understood?”

“Don’t want anyone to associate you with this one, huh?” Thor asked, smug. “Good call.”

Loki rolled his eyes.

“I really did miss you, brother,” he said acidly, and Thor smirked.

“I just…want to be seen as me,” Sylvie said. “No offence,” she added, looking at Loki.

“None taken,” he said gently. “We’ve established that you’re not me, haven’t we?”

They got lost in each other’s eyes again, to Love’s delight.

“Ahem,” Thor said eventually, breaking the spell. “So what is this? Incest?”

“No,” Sylvie and Loki said in unison.

“We’re variants, not siblings, thank you very much,” Loki said.

“And…ew,” Sylvie added, disgusted.

“Also, we’re not together,” Loki added helpfully.

“Definitely not,” Sylvie agreed enthusiastically.

“Sure you’re not,” Thor said shortly.

“What’s incest?” Love asked, curious.

Thor blanched. “We should go back then, sis…I mean, Sylvie,” he said. “Love needs to get ready for bed. It’s a school night.”

Sylvie nodded.

“Take care, now, brother,” Thor told Loki, who nodded.

“It was good seeing you,” Loki said. “You look…better,” he added, looking from him to Love. “And nice meeting you, too, Love.”

“You, too,” Love said. “I’m glad you’re not dead,” she added.

Loki burst out laughing.

“Yes, me too,” he admitted.

Sylvie swiped her wrist, opening a time-door in the clearing Loki made earlier. As Thor and Love went through, she stood back for a moment.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she said quietly. “I was worried about you.”

“Me too,” Loki admitted. “I’m glad you came.”

Sylvie nodded, wiping her suddenly wet cheeks.

“Leave that space there, will you?” she asked, gesturing to where the time-door now stood. “Trying to find you in the thicket was a nightmare.”

“Of course,” Loki promised, nodding.

“Well, I guess I’ll go now,” Sylvie said, but didn’t move.

“I, um, I think it’s good that you’d stay in New-Asgard,” Loki said. “I mean, Thor is insufferable, but he’s…he’s family. Yeah. Just…keep each other out of fights.”

“Sure,” Sylvie said dryly, and they both laughed.

“You better go or you’ll drain that thing’s battery,” Loki said.

“Doesn’t have one,” Sylvie said shortly. “I…”

She took a deep breath.

“See you around, I guess,” she said.

“I’ll be here,” Loki said.

With a nod, Sylvie departed, wiping her eyes furiously with her hands.

Loki let the time branches fall back into place, only leaving a clearing big enough for a time door near his chair. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and let his mind flow back to his task.

*

“Come on,” Thor said after they were all back inside the cottage.

“Where are we going?” Sylvie asked, grabbing a paper towel to dry her face with.

“If you’re going to stay here, we need to introduce you to our king,” Thor explained.

“You’d love her, she’s great,” Love promised.

“Ok,” Sylvie nodded finally. As she made to leave the house with Love and Thor, she looked behind her to where the time door had been. She missed Loki already, the thread that stretched from her heart to his threatening to break under the strain.

You killed the man who controlled all of time, she could almost hear him whisper in her ear. What’s meeting a Valkyrie compared to that?

Sylvie smirked.

“Idiot,” she mumbled fondly, and made for the door behind her new family.

Chapter Text

King Valkyrie was just about to settle down for the evening when a familiar knock sounded at the door. Well, calling it a ‘knock’ would be generous, as it was a series of three loud bangs that nearly threw the door off its hinges. A lesser being might have been scared or perplexed, but Val just sighed in exasperation.

“Hi, Thor,” she said upon opening the door, not bothering to change out of her pajama shorts and Cats (the musical) t-shirt. “What’s up?”

“Hi, Val,” Thor said, pushing his way in casually, followed by Love and a woman Val had never seen before. There was something strange about her, but Val couldn’t decide if it was the large sword she wore with her jeans and t-shirt, or the wild look in her eyes. “May I come in?”

“Be my guest,” Val said, even though Thor had already sat himself down. Love plopped down next to him, looking in no way sleepy. She had Stormbreaker with her, but that was hardly unusual. The strange woman, though, remained standing, looking somewhat uncomfortable.

“Hi,” Val gave her hand for a shake. “I’m Valkyrie.”

“King Valkyrie,” Love supplied helpfully.

“Your majesty,” the woman said woodenly, shaking her hand with a formidable grip.

Val snorted.

“Please, it’s just Val. Nobody calls me anything else around here anyway.”

“Don’t you have a name?” the woman asked, somewhat insolent.

Interesting.

“She won’t tell anyone what it is,” Thor said.

The woman’s eyebrows rose, but she seemed amused rather than perplexed.

“I do have a name,” Val said, “but I hate it. And if anyone ever tried to call me by it, I will cut them.”

The last bit was aimed at Thor, who simply shrugged and asked “how can I use it if I don’t even know what it is?”

The woman’s lips twitched in mirth.

“Please, sit down,” Val asked and she finally relented, sitting in a nearby chair. “I didn’t get your name.”

“Val, this is Sylvie,” Thor said. “She’s, a…she’s my, ah…cousin.”

“Distant cousin,” Sylvie added quickly.

“Yes, very distant,” Thor hurried to agree. “She’s going to be staying with us for a while. Because she’s, eh, you know, she’s family, I mean distant family, but she’s still family, so she’ll be staying with us here, in New Asgard!”

“Smooth,” Sylvie said, staring daggers at Thor. Love, meanwhile, buried her face in her hands.

“Ok,” Val said. “What’s going on?”

Sylvie, Thor and Love exchanged looks.

“Seriously,” Val said, “if there’s been a crime I should probably be told about it. Do you guys need help hiding a body or something?”

Thor huffed and Sylvie rolled her eyes. Love only giggled.

“I think we should tell her,” Thor told Sylvie. “She’s the king, she probably needs to know anyway.”

“No,” Sylvie said firmly. “We had a deal, Thor.”

“But she’s the king,” Thor repeated.

“So? I don’t want to be banished for things that aren’t my fault,” Sylvie said.

“She won’t banish you, sis…I mean, Sylvie,” Thor said.

Val raised her eyebrows.

“Don’t tell me Odin had yet another child that we didn’t know about,” she told Sylvie.

“Not exactly,” Thor said.

“Thor!” Sylvie said, pleading.

“What?” Thor shrugged.

“Don’t worry, Auntie Sylvie,” Love said, “Val’s cool. She won’t blab.”

Sylvie’s eyes softened as she looked at the child, but hardened again as they traveled back to Val. Val raised her eyebrows in challenge, intrigued.

“You should know,” Sylvie said, “I don’t trust easily, and I don’t like talking about my past, but I will say this. I am Asgardian, and I am related to Thor…well, sort of, I guess, but I would rather not say anything about that, either. I swear to you that I don’t mean you and your people any harm, but if you prefer that I leave, I will.”

“Oh, don’t leave, Auntie Sylvie!” Love pleaded.

“You don’t sound Asgardian,” Val remarked, picking up on Sylvie’s unusual accent.

“I haven’t been to Asgard since I was a child,” Sylvie said, as way of explanation. It was clear she didn’t want to add more, so Val let it go.

“Do you fight?” she asked instead, tilting her head towards Sylvie’s sword.

“A bit,” Sylvie said, shrugging. “Why?”

“Well, if you’re going to stay, I could always use an extra sword in battle,” Val explained. “We’ve pledged to defend this realm and, well…there always seem to be fights.”

Sylvie brightened up noticeably.

“Yes,” she said, “I fight.”

“Didn’t you say fighting was one of your hobbies?” Love asked, and Sylvie shrugged.

“I like you already,” Val said, and Sylvie smiled.

She seemed a little sad, Val realized suddenly, but decided to drop it. After all, all Asgardians were sad these days, one way or another.

“Next question,” Val said, and Sylvie arched an eyebrow in way of challenge.

Oh, I like her already.

“Do you drink?”

Sylvie grinned.

*

On the way to Thor and Love’s home, Sylvie got the familiar feeling of Loki’s presence. It was more like a hunch, as if he was peering over her left shoulder, and for one insane moment she wanted to lean into him, even though he wasn’t really there.

See? She could almost hear him whisper in her ear. That wasn’t so bad, was it?

Not wanting to say anything out loud, she simply shook her head a little.

The truth was, it went rather well. Val approved of her stay at New Asgard, and also invited her for drinks “with the guys” on Thursday evening. Though obviously curious, she didn’t ask any poking questions about Sylvie’s past, which Sylvie greatly appreciated. They did get into a vivid conversation about preferred weapons, during which Sylvie did her best not to fangirl over Val’s sword.

When they reached the little cottage, Thor sent Love straight to bed. She rolled her eyes but complied (after some arguing and a burnt hole in the wall next to Thor’s head). Sylvie, already overwhelmed from the events of the day, didn’t remark on it at all.

After Love was gone, Thor sighed, rubbing his hand over his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “She can be rather difficult sometimes.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re no stranger to difficult,” Sylvie shrugged, “having grown up with Loki and all.”

Thor chuckled.

“He could be a bit much, yes,” he agreed. “I can’t even count how many times he tried to kill me.”

Sylvie smiled, rolling her eyes.

“That’s just his love language,” she said.

Thor smiled.

“So,” he said, “are you tired?”

“Yeah,” Sylvie admitted. “It’s been a long day.”

“Yes, it did not go at all like I expected,” Thor agreed. “Come on, I’ll show you where you sleep.”

He led Sylvie upstairs, to where a small guest room had been set up in the attic. There was not much in it except a bed, some shelves and a dresser, but it was clean and looked surprisingly cozy.

“It’s not much,” Thor apologized. “My friend Peter sleeps here sometimes when he comes to visit, and sometimes Val when she drinks too much, but it isn’t…you know…”

Sylvie sniffed.

“It’s fine,” she said casually.

The truth was it was lovely, and definitely an improvement to the vast majority of places she slept in in the past. She could already imagine how it would look once she brought in some of her things from the apartment she still had in 1982 Oklahoma.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Thor said. “I’ll, ah…we’ll talk in the morning, ok?”

“Yeah,” Sylvie nodded, “see you tomorrow”.

After he left, the room seemed much bigger. Sylvie took a slow, steadying breath, and sat down to take her boots off. After she was no longer running for her life she made herself stop sleeping in them, but being barefoot still made her feel vulnerable. Sighing tiredly, she opened a time door to her apartment in Broxton. She brushed her teeth, took a shower and put on some comfortable clothes to sleep in (she never got the hang of actual pajamas). She then looked around her beloved apartment, thinking about what to take with her.

“What do you think?” she asked out loud.

Definitely the records, she could feel Loki say. Tooth brush, comb, a change of clothes, that conjured blanket you pretend that you don’t have and the three spare tempads you think Mobius didn’t notice you swiped.

Sylvie huffed.

“Just so you know, you are being unnecessarily creepy,” she said.

Loki didn’t reply, but she could bet it made him smile.

Heeding his advice, she got to work, pulling everything she needed into her pocket dimension to avoid unnecessary trips. When she finished she looked around, and felt like crying. The apartment looked…empty. Impersonal. Like it did when she first got here about a year and a half ago. So this part of her life was really over now. With one last look at her surroundings, she opened another time door and went back to New Asgard.

*

Over the next few days Sylvie began settling into her new situation. Sharing a home with what she could begrudgingly describe as family was surprisingly nice. Thor turned up to be a fantastic father to Love, who’s short temper and massive powers made a challenging child indeed. But Thor, having grown up with Loki, was the perfect person to handle her. Sylvie, for her part, proved herself worthy of the child’s affections over the first (and last) temper tantrum Love tried with her, and after that they got along splendidly.

On Thursday night, Val appeared at the cottage door.

“I’m here to pick up Sylvie,” she said. “Are you ready?”

Sylvie, who’d forgotten all about their planned outing but was not about to admit it, simply waved her hand and got herself into some clothes she could actually leave the house in. Val raised her eyebrows at the display of magic.

“So,” she said, “who taught you to do that?”

Loki.

“My mother,” Sylvie said. Technically it was true. Frigga did teach Sylvie a thing or two about magic, but Val didn’t need to know that she picked up most of her non-enchantment skills from sharing Loki’s mind in the void.

“Was she a witch?” Val asked.

“No,” Sylvie said. “She was raised by witches, though.”

“Witches? In Asgard?”

“Vanaheim,” Sylvie said.

“Like your mother,” Val said to Thor, who simply gave a phony smile and said “Ah! What a coincidence” in his magnanimous way.

Val gave him a pointed look, then turned her attention back to Sylvie.

“Come on,” she said. “I’ll introduce you to the guys.”

“You’re not coming?” Sylvie asked Thor, surprised.

“I don’t drink much anymore,” Thor said apologetically. “Plus, finding someone to watch over Love can be a little tricky.”

Sylvie swiped her gaze across the numerous burnt patches in the walls.

“I can imagine,” she said, and Thor smiled tiredly.

“So,” Val said, leading Sylvie towards New Asgard’s only tavern, “tell me about yourself, Sylvie.”

“What do you want to know?” Sylvie asked, wary.

“Oh, nothing special,” Val said innocently. “Just…who are you, really? You don’t think I actually believe you’re Thor distant cousin.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sylvie said.

“Why not?” Val asked. “You are Asgardian. You’re a fighter, magic user, and seem to share a mother with Thor.”

“I don’t,” Sylvie hurried to say – another thing that was technically true.

“So it’s just a coincidence that both your mothers were raised by witches in Vanaheim?”

Sylvie snorted. “Half of Vanaheim was raised by witches,” she said.

Val wiggled her head.

“I suppose,” she agreed reluctantly.

When they reached the tavern, Val led them towards a booth near the back, where two women were already seated. One was blond and dressed in jeans and an old t-shirt. The other was brunette, had only one arm and looked vaguely familiar. They were both beautiful, and had an air of people you don’t want to cross (not unlike Val herself).

“Hi Guys,” Val said. “Meet Sylvie, Thor’s new roommate. Sylvie, meet Carol and Sif.”

As she said this, she sat herself near Carol, leaving Sylvie no choice but to sit next to Sif.

“Thor’s roommate, huh?” Sif asked, giving Sylvie an appraising look. She didn’t seem too pleased, for some reason. “So are you guys…”

“What? No!” Sylvie said, horrified. “No, it’s not like that.”

“Apparently they’re cousins,” Val explained, evidently enjoying Sylvie’s squirming.

“Really?” Sif said, “I thought I’d met all of Thor’s family, but I don’t remember you.”

“I haven’t been to Asgard since childhood,” Sylvie explained.

“Really?” Sif asked again. “Where have you been?”

Sylvie smiled sadly.

“Pretty much everywhere.”

Before Sif had time to ask another question, a waiter came to take their orders. Val ordered a flagon of mead for the table. Sylvie, grateful for the interruption, moved her attention to Carol.

“What about you?” she asked, “are you Asgardian?”

“No,” Carol smiled, “I’m much more local.”

“Human?”

“Yeah,” Carol said. “But I also spent a few decades travelling pretty much everywhere.”

The conversation than turned to stories from all different places in the galaxy. There were a few problems with this, of course. Carol’s problem was that she never stayed in one place for too long. Val’s was that she’d only spent any significant time in Asgard, Sakaar and now Earth. Sif had almost always traveled on missions, so all of her stories involved fighting. Sylvie’s problem was that she only ever been anywhere during the apocalypse (and that was a detail too complicated to even mention). Either way, between tales of fights, parties, brawls, drunken adventures and hookups, the four women found quite a lot to talk about.

After about an hour and four flagons of mead, they were all rather tipsy (Carol, to Sylvie’s surprise, had an uncanny tolerance for alcohol, for a human). The conversation became a little soppier after that.

Val was telling them the story of how she traveled to Omnipotence City with Thor and someone named Jane. She was getting kind of emotional, which was weird considering the subject matter, and eventually raised her glass.

“I’d like to raise this toast,” she started, swaying slightly, “to Dr. Jane Foster: the most beautiful, smart, capable, funny and…awesome…”

She trailed off, shrugged and downed her drink.

“Sounds like you were in love with her,” Carol observed, slightly crestfallen. “Were you two…”

“Nah,” Val shook her head with a laugh. “I liked her, sure, but she was just a friend. Besides, she only ever had eyes for Thor.”

Sif huffed, visibly annoyed.

“I still don’t know what you saw in her,” she hissed. “I always found her rather helpless and annoying.”

“She wasn’t helpless,” Val argued. “She was awesome. You should have seen it, when she came down here and picked up Mjolnir, it was a riot.”

“She picked up Mjolnir?” Sylvie asked, surprised. She had already tried lifting Thor’s hammer, which both he and Love could pick up easily, but it wouldn’t even budge.

“Yeah,” Val said, her eyes sparkling. “She became the Mighty Thor, for a while, which was helpful since Thor was off planet. She was cool.”

“What happened?” Sylvie asked.

“She died,” Val said, “and left an emptiness in all our hearts.”

“I’m fine with it,” Sif said, downing her drink. “No offence to you, or to Thor.”

“I didn’t know her,” Carol said apologetically, taking a much more measured sip from her drink.

“You were just jealous of her,” Val told Sif, ignoring Carol’s remark, “because a certain prince had eyes only for her.”

This piqued Sylvie’s interest.

“Please,” Sif huffed, “Thor and I are just old friends.”

Sylvie raised her eyebrows.

“Are you?” she asked. Next, the conversation turned to childhood stories of Sif, Thor and their three long gone warrior friends; and, to Sylvie’s great interest, to Loki. It seemed like he was everywhere in Sif’s childhood stories. Aiming a dagger at an apple tree and hurling it at Thor instead; stealing horses from the stable and riding them around the hallways; pulling pranks on all his friends and driving everyone insane.

They were funny stories, for the most part, and Sylvie laughed so hard her belly ached. Her heart ached, too, but she didn’t want to dwell on that. She also didn’t want to dwell on the empty space she always felt right next to her, as if someone was supposed to be there but wasn’t. The feeling first crept in on her a few weeks after she moved to Broxton, and never really went away. She missed him, all the time, and she never told him that when she still could.

“What was the worst prank he ever pulled on you?” she asked Sif, who grew serious at once.

“He cut my hair while I was sleeping,” Sif said. “After we…after we…”

She trailed off, embarrassed.

Val stared at her, mouth agape.

“What?!” she asked in a loud whisper. “You and Loki? Really!?”

“It was just once,” Sif said shortly, not looking Val in the eye. “Never happened again.”

“Was he that bad?” Sylvie asked, amused. She wasn’t at all surprised that Loki found Sif attractive, because she did as well. She suspected it was a moot point, because it didn’t seem Sif felt any attraction towards women. At least, in all of the stories they swapped that night, hers were the only ones that involved only men.

“No, he was surprisingly good actually,” Sif said gruffly. “You know, for a conniving, craven, pathetic worm.”

She shrugged with finality and downed another drink.

“I think I’ll head home,” she said, getting up from her seat. “It was nice meeting you, Sylvie.”

“Me too,” Carol said, “Considering that it’s 10am where I live.”

“We should probably all go,” Val said, and (after she transferred the barman an obscene amount of money) they all left the tavern. Once outside they bid goodbye to Carol. Sif and Sylvie simply said bye, but Val kissed Carol’s hand in a not so innocent manner. The other woman, so put together and aloof usually, blushed to the roots of her hair and could barely mumble a goodbye.

Then, she departed in an impressive display of energy. In fact, she started glowing and flew away, shooting herself into the sky at incredible speed “She leaves the atmosphere,” Val said, “and can come back down anywhere on the planet within minutes. It’s cool.”

“She’s like a ballistic missile,” Sylvie said, impressed. “How did she get her powers?”

“Energy from an infinity stone. It was the same one Thanos killed Loki for. The Tesseract,” Val said, and Sylvie shuddered. For a moment, they all kept walking quietly.

“Were you there?” Sylvie asked. “When Thanos killed Loki?”

“No,” Val said, “I had left with the evacuation pods. Thor told me how it was. You know, eventually. After a lot of crying.”

“I wasn’t there either,” Sif said.

“Why?” Sylvie asked.

“Loki had been masquerading as Odin, and I became suspicious, until he eventually had me banished from Asgard.”

Val whistled.

“You two really had some bad blood between you, huh?” Sylvie asked.

“You can say that,” Sif said shortly. “That’s my turn. I’ll see you tomorrow, Val. Sylvie, if you feel like showing me what you can do with that sword, you’re welcome to the training field anytime.”

With that, she departed.

“So,” Val said once the two of them were alone, “How are you finding New Asgard so far?”

“I like it,” Sylvie admitted. “Thank you for letting me stay.”

“Of course,” Val said. “I’d never turn away Thor’s distant cousin who’s definitely not his long-lost-sister.”

“I’m not his sister.”

“What are you, then?”

Sylvie smiled.

“Good night, Val. Thanks for the drinks,” she said, turned her back on the king of Asgard and made her way to Thor and Love’s cottage.

Chapter Text

“Ready?” Sif asked, holding her sword up with her one hand. Sylvie smirked in response, lifting her sword in front of her as if to say bring it on. The women began circling each other, each of them measuring the other with watchful eyes. Sylvie knew by now that Sif was dangerous with a sword, one armed or not. She was light on her feet and quick with a blade. Her fighting was a thing of beauty, with fluid movements that reminded Sylvie a little of Loki, although no one in the world was quite as graceful as him. What she lacked, though, was Sylvie’s speed and sheer ferocity, which made her nearly impossible to beat on the battlefield. Sif, who at first had been confident and a bit cocky, learned this the hard way.

Sylvie started sparring with Sif almost by accident. Thor and Love were both great, but they each had their own things to do, and she often found herself alone in the small cottage. At first it was nice, but quickly she found herself itching for something to do. She cleaned. She tidied up her room. She rearranged her records and even tried gardening (it did not end well). She did anything she could think of except the one thing she really wanted to do, which was to visit Loki.

She wasn’t really sure why she didn’t. She thought he wouldn’t mind having her around, might even be grateful for the company, but she dreaded seeing him again. The sight of him, sitting on a golden throne in what was left of the citadel, made her uncomfortable. No, not uncomfortable – it made her incredibly sad. He was both god-like and humble, with his ridiculously large horns and his ridiculously simple garbs (she didn’t even want to acknowledge the shoes). But what really hurt was seeing that he was still physically holding all of time; that he took on that incredible burden and was now trapped, unable to use his hands for fear of the multiverse imploding.

It wasn’t fair.

Maybe she was just looking for excuses not to see him, now that she knew that she could. They never discussed anything that had happened (or didn’t happen) between them, and the whole thing just festered until it made it hard to even be in the same room with him (let alone the same tree). So she didn’t visit him, although she could often feel him over her shoulder, looking after her in that annoying sincerity of his.

So, she left the house. Grabbed her sword and went about exploring New Asgard, and ended up in the seaside training area Sif used to teach the children of New-Asgard the noble art of combat. Sylvie stuck around to watch, one thing led to another, and eventually they fell into the habit of sparring together every evening after classes were done. Valkyrie joined them whenever her schedule allowed for it, which unfortunately wasn’t often. Sif was a fair sparring partner, but Val – she was a level all to herself.

“Focus!” Sif said, trying to disarm Sylvie with a practiced twist of her sword.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Sylvie answered, evading the maneuver easily and kicking Sif in the shin (Sif had protested such things, at first, but she soon realized that Sylvie was unschooled and unstoppable, and basically learned to live with it).

Sif snarled and made to stab Sylvie’s shoulder (Sylvie just kicked her again).

It was in the middle of such a round that Sylvie felt the familiar presence, hovering just above her left shoulder.

You should aim for the left knee, she injured it years ago and it’s never been the same.

“I don’t need your help,” Sylvie muttered under her breath, annoyed at the interruption.

You’re so weird.

“What’s that?” Sif asked. “Are you talking to yourself?”

“Yeah,” Sylvie said. “Old habit from my apo-eh, childhood.”

“Where did you grow up, again?” Sif asked.

“I told you, pretty much everywhere,” Sylvie answered easily.

“I thought you were Thor’s cousin,” Sif said.

“Distant cousin,” Sylvie answered, “From his mother’s side.”

“How come he never mentioned you before?” Sif asked, twirling her sword.

“How should I know?” Sylvie shrugged, tossing her sword from one hand to the other just to get Sif worked up.

“I mean, I’m one of his oldest friends, and I thought I knew everyone in his family, so it’s just…I don’t know, it’s strange.”

Sylvie shrugged again, and lunged without warning, ridding Sif of her sword and toppling her to the ground. She held Sif in place with one foot and leaned close to her face, triumphant.

“Checkmate,” she said, a wide grin on her face.

Sif huffed.

“I yield.”

Sylvie straightened up, sheathing her sword. She gave Sif a hand and pulled her up. Sif gave her a peculiar look.

“What?” Sylvie asked, tilting her head in question.

“Nothing,” Sif said, seemingly lost in thought. “I just realized you remind me of someone, that’s all.”

“Who?” Sylvie asked, suspicion heavy in her belly.

“Loki,” Sif said. “You know, Thor’s little brother.”

Sylvie nodded, fighting to keep her composure

“I haven’t seen him in years,” she lied, looking Sif in the eye.

“Well, he’s dead,” Sif shrugged, looking away with a strange look on her face. She almost seemed sorry, but only just. “He probably would’ve annoyed the shit out of you, anyway.”

Sylvie smirked.

“Yeah, he used to do that,” she said fondly, her heart fluttering as the wind picked up like a hand moving softly through her hair.

*

The cupboard was small and stuffy, hard to see into in the dark room. Sylvie was rummaging through it quickly, desperate. She hadn’t eaten in days and she was so hungry and so scared, her knees nearly buckled underneath her from exhaustion. She wasn’t sure exactly where she was, having punched the coordinates at random, but it was somewhere on the verge of collapse. The sky was full of dark clouds all the time, and the few people she saw (from afar) seemed thin and lost. There was no electricity, no running water, no gas. The cars she saw were all rusting on the road or wherever they were initially abandoned. The air felt funny, like it was too thin to breath properly, and it smelled.

Finally, her prying fingers closed around something that filled her with hope. A tin can. Food. She couldn’t see what it was in the dark, but it had to be food. She looked through the drawers, her heart filled with triumph as her fingers closed around what she was looking for. A can opener. Finally. Slowly, fingers shaking with hunger, she managed to open the can and stick a spoon in it, bringing whatever it was to her mouth as quickly as she could.

She gagged, shuffling outside to look at the can.

Cat food.

For a moment, Sylvie just stared at it, marveling at the ugliness of the meat and the smooshed-faced cat on the side of the can. Then, suddenly scared that they would come for her before she finished, hurried back inside and wolfed down everything in the can.

She woke with a start.

It was just a dream.

With a sigh, Sylvie got up and, pulling on a hoodie, made her way downstairs.

To her surprise, Thor was in the kitchen.

“Sister,” he said with a tired smile.

“Thor,” she replied.

“Bad dream?” he asked, pushing a chair towards her with his foot.

“Yeah,” Sylvie said, sitting down.

“I get them too,” Thor said. “Just had one tonight, as a matter of fact.”

“What was it about?” Sylvie asked.

Thor grew serious, his gaze somewhere in the middle distance. “I watched Loki die,” he sighed, taking a swig of his water. “Again.”

“Does that…do you have that dream often?” Sylvie asked carefully.

“Oh, yeah,” Thor shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. “Almost every night. I did watch him die several times, you know. He was in the habit of faking his death, for some reason.”

Sylvie smiled fondly.

“He’s a drama queen,” She said.

Rude.

“What?” she asked the air. “You are.”

Thor stared at her, surprised.

“Is he…here?” he asked carefully.

Sylvie shook her head.

“Not exactly. He’s just watching, I guess.”

“But he…talks to you?” Thor asked.

“Yeah,” Sylvie shrugged. “I mean, not constantly but, you know. I sort of hear him in my head, when he does.”

“Why is that, you think?” Thor asked.

Sylvie shrugged. “No idea. Probably a variant thing,” she said offhandedly.

Thor shook his head.

“I think it’s more than that,” he suggested.

Sylvie raised her eyebrows and said nothing.

After a while, Thor broke the silence again.

“What was your dream about?” he asked.

“My first apocalypse,” Sylvie said.

“Your first what?” Thor asked, confused.

“Apocalypse. I used to hide in them, back when I was on the run, remember?” Sylvie explained. “The TVA couldn’t find me there. That time, that first apocalypse, I ended up there by mistake. I was so hungry that I ate a can of cat food.”

“Cat food?” Thor asked, looking somewhere between concerned and incredulous.

“I hardly got any time to eat, before,” Sylvie said quietly. “The TVA always caught sight of me within minutes, but that time I stayed for hours and they didn’t appear. I spent a full day in there before a man jumped me when I was asleep.”

“What?!”

“Yeah,” Sylvie said, staring into the distance. “I knocked him out. He was human, you know, and so thin I could see his ribs through his shirt. I was never sure if he was trying to eat me or…you know.”

Thor nodded, mute with horror.

“Anyway, I got out of there,” Sylvie shrugged. “It was an awful place. I did get my can opener there, though.”

“Your can opener?” Thor asked, surprised.

“Yeah. It can make the difference between life and death, you know,” Sylvie explained. “I mean, a can is useless if you can’t open it.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Thor said, lost in thought.

“I’ve been so many places,” Sylvie said, laying her head on her hand with a faraway gaze, “but never anywhere nice. There was always some horrible disaster approaching, and everyone I ever met was destined to die within hours. I lived that way for centuries.”

“That’s awful,” Thor said.

Sylvie chuckled humorlessly.

“Tell me about it,” she huffed.

She reached for Thor’s glass of water and took a sip.

“Hey,” he said good-humoredly. “Get your own.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, and he smiled.

“You know, Love and I travel all the time,” Thor said, “on missions and such.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Sylvie said. “You’re hardly ever home.”

“You should come with us next time,” Thor offered. “I mean, if you want. You don’t have to, of course, but you can. I mean, you’re welcome to.”

“Ok,” Sylvie said, a little touched. “I can do that, sure.”

Traveling and fighting people? Sounds like a great time! She felt Loki say and smirked, but this time said nothing out loud.

“He’s here again, isn’t he?” Thor asked casually.

“How did you know?” Sylvie asked, surprised.

“You have that look again,” Thor said.

“What look?” Sylvie asked, suspicious.

“I don’t know,” Thor shrugged. “For a moment there, you looked happy.”

With that, he got up, bid her goodnight, and left. Sylvie sat for a while, staring at the fireplace, and eventually got up, opened a time door and stepped through it.

*

The tree was just as she remembered: green, lush, peaceful. Loki, however, looked just a bit more tired, just a bit more grim. He perked up when he saw her.

“Sylvie!” he said, clearly delighted. “To what do I owe the honor?”

Sylvie shrugged.

“Just making sure you’re not meddling too much,” she sniffed, not looking at him. “You know, with infinite power and all.”

Loki looked at her for a long time, smiling softly.

“Would you like to sit down?” he asked.

“On what?” Sylvie retorted.

Loki closed his eyes, concentrated, and another chair materialized beside her. Sylvie sat down, foot over knee, and gave him another cursory look.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“My pleasure,” he replied kindly.

He looked tired. His burden was taking an obvious toll on him. Sylvie studied his features, worried. He seemed fine the last time she was here but that was, what? A month ago? What changed over a month?

“Loki, are you ok?” she asked quietly.

He nodded and gave her a smile that did not quite reach his eyes.

“Of course,” he said cheerfully, “never better!”

“Don’t lie to me,” she replied.

He looked at her with fake offence.

“I would never!”

Sylvie frowned, looking down.

“I can tell, you know. Don’t lie to me. You’re exhausted.”

When she looked back up, he was looking slightly guilty.

“It doesn’t get easier,” he sighed. “I mean, I can do it, it’s not hard, magic-wise, it’s just that…never mind, it’s silly.”

“No, tell me,” she asked, leaning closer. “What is it?”

“It’s…” he paused, looking at his knees in discomfort, “my hands.”

Sylvie blinked.

“Your hands?”

“I miss my hands. Being able to use them. It’s been forever since I touched anything that wasn’t a time-branch.”

Sylvie got the strange urge to hug him, and fought it with all her might. Instead, she took a good look at his hands. Both of them were still grasping the timelines, holding them strongly as his magic gave them life. His knuckles were white.

Sylvie’s heart broke a little more, if that was even possible, and she gingerly laid her small palm over his big one. He jumped a little at the contact, but did not pull away. Sylvie closed her eyes and let her magic flow, doing her best to ease his pain. His eyes fluttered shut, his lips quivering. Soon, tears began rolling down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” Sylvie said softly, and he nodded but didn’t open his eyes.

After a while, when she felt his vice-like grip on the branches soften a little, she let go.

“Thank you,” Loki whispered, and she nodded even though he couldn’t see her.

“I should go,” she said, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. Why did she come here?

“Don’t,” Loki asked, finally looking at her again. His eyes…she forgot how clear they were, how deeply into her soul they could see. “Please, stay a while.”

“Okay,” she whispered, despite herself. “I’ll stay.”

“So, how are things?” Loki asked suddenly, obviously trying to change the mood. “How’s Thor? Love?”

“They’re alright,” Sylvie said. “They’re not really home much. There’s always some squabble or other Thor needs to take care of.”

“Yes,” Loki said. “Squabbling is kind of his thing. Not unlike you, actually.”

“Excuse me,” Sylvie said, “I don’t go looking for a fight. Fights just find me.”

Loki sniggered. “Sure they do.”

Sylvie rolled her eyes.

“Still,” Loki said, “I think it’s great you’ll be joining them. It’ll do you good.”

“Yeah?” Sylvie said. “I thought you enjoyed my sword fights with Sif.”

“I do enjoy seeing Sif on her bottom, yes,” Loki said casually, and Sylvie’s heart gave a strange, painful little flutter.

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

“Nothing,” he shrugged, “just that I like seeing you beat her.”

“Why?”

“Oh, it’s a long story. Let’s just say that we used to like each other, and now we…don’t.”

“She said you slept together,” Sylvie mentioned, almost managing to sound indifferent.

Loki blushed.

“That was just once,” he said, avoiding her eyes.

“Yes, she said,” Sylvie agreed.

“It was centuries ago, too,” Loki added, embarrassed.

“Ok.”

“Does that…bother you?” He asked carefully.

“Why would it bother me?” Sylvie asked defensively.

“I don’t know,” Loki said, “you brought it up.”

“Well, you said you like seeing her on her bottom,” Sylvie pointed out.

Loki smiled.

“I said I like to see you beat her,” he said.

“Are you guys mad at each other or something?” Sylvie asked.

Loki shrugged.

“I wouldn’t say that. At least I’m not mad at her, and it’s been centuries since I gave any consideration to how she feels about me.”

“She thinks you are dead,” Sylvie pointed out.

“I am dead,” Loki answered seriously, and try as she might, Sylvie couldn’t stop the tears.

“Isn’t there…couldn’t there be a way to…I don’t know, get you out of here?” she asked, her voice breaking despite her best efforts.

Loki shook his head.

“It’s okay,” he said weakly, “It’s my burden to bear, Sylvie. I’ve made peace with that.”

She punched him. “You’re an idiot. I’m going to talk to O.B. right now.”

“No, don’t,” Loki said. “It’s alright. Really.”

“It’s not alright, Loki!” Sylvie said forcefully. “You’re stuck in a tree, for fuck’s sake! You can’t even use your bloody hands! How do you even do magic? How do you…I don’t know…touch yourself?”

“I don’t,” Loki said, amused. “I noticed you don’t either, so don’t judge me.”

“Oh, been spying on me, have you?” Sylvie said, annoyed.

“Please,” Loki rolled his eyes. “You always know I’m there.”

“Then why would I touch myself,” Sylvie snarled, “if I never have any privacy?”

“Oh, you want privacy?” Loki asked, angry now himself. “No problem. Go back home. Leave me alone. Touch whoever or whatever you please.”

“I will,” Sylvie said, getting up so forcefully the chair toppled over. “I’m going to touch myself right now, and you’re not invited!”

“Good,” Loki said, “Great.”

He wasn’t looking at her.

“Good,” Sylvie said, fighting the urge to stomp her foot. “Goodbye, Loki.”

“Bye,” Loki said, seemingly unconcerned, “don’t let the time-door hit you on your way out.”

Back in her room in New Asgard, Sylvie fell on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She didn’t touch herself, even though she could tell Loki wasn’t there. She wasn’t actually mad, though a part of her wanted to be. Anger she could handle. It had been her most loyal companion for centuries, after all. But this…sadness, this…whatever it was Loki made her feel...it was hard. Breathing was hard, for some reason, like her lungs refused to take in enough air.

Why do I miss him?

Sighing deeply, she closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but all she could see in her mind’s eye was Loki’s pained looking hands, clamping the timelines for dear life.

Chapter Text

“Hello,” Sylvie said as she stepped into the cottage, dusty and sweaty after an afternoon of sparring. “What’s this?”

The cottage, though never completely tidy, was now an explosion of light and color. Cheerful signs saying happy birthday and congratulations lined every wall, accompanied by so many colorful balloons that the floor was hardly visible.

“It’s your birthday!” Love answered cheerfully. She was standing perilously on a swivel chair, ignoring the very real danger of falling while securing a colorful garland to the wall of the living room.

“My birthday?” Sylvie asked, perplexed. “It’s not my birthday.”

“Sure it is!” Thor said, who had just strolled in and casually caught Love as she fell off the chair. “It’s Loki’s birthday, and you’re him. So…happy birthday!”

“I’m not him,” Sylvie protested weakly.

Was it her birthday? Sylvie realized to her surprise that she had no idea. She hadn’t celebrated it in over a thousand years, all of them spent jumping around time and space. The idea of a birthday was as strange to her as the idea of a linear existence.

“You look sick,” Love approached her, worried. “Are you alright?”

“Is something wrong, sister?” Thor asked cautiously. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you. We wanted to surprise you. I’m making those pan-flaps you love and we made some decorations…we didn’t know if you’d want to invite anyone so we decided to just celebrate as a family…Sylvie? Say something.”

Sylvie found that she couldn’t speak through the lump in her throat. Tears came to her eyes, unbidden.

“Auntie Sylvie?” Love asked, worried. “Are you mad?”

Sylvie shook her head vehemently. Mad?! Never.

“No, it’s not that,” she choked out eventually. “It’s just…I don’t even remember the last time I had a birthday party. Or a family, for that matter, so…”

“Oh, Sylvie,” Thor said, engulfing her in a bear hug.

“Don’t,” she said weakly. “I stink.”

“You’re fine,” he laughed. “I lived for a while in the fighting pits in Sakaar. After that, everything smells like roses.”

“Still,” she said. “Do you mind if I take a shower before dinner?”

“No, of course not,” Thor said. “Go ahead. I’ll start on the pan-flaps in the meantime.”

Sylvie sighed with relief as she stepped into her bedroom. Compared to the overwhelming cacophony of colors in the rest of the house, even her messy space seemed calm and peaceful. As she was taking off her clothes to get into the shower, a new thought began forming in her mind.

Today was her birthday because it was Loki’s birthday, and she was about to celebrate with his family while he was all alone at the end of time. It hardly seemed fair, she mused as she turned on the hot water and stepped in the shower. Perhaps…perhaps a birthday present was in order.

She hasn’t felt him by her side since their silly little argument. Like most of them, she wasn’t really sure how it came about. Ever since the Citadel, they were always at odds, always seemed to fight about stupid little things when all she wanted to do was…not fight. But, in the context of a birthday present, their last argument gave her an idea.

“Loki?” she asked the air, her breath heavy in the steamy shower. “Do you hear me? Are you there?”

She felt it when he joined her, or maybe the more appropriate description was focused his attention on her. He was still in his chair at the end of time, but his consciousness was here, with her. Seeing her. In the shower.

What’s going on?

She could feel the hesitation in the question, the confusion mixed with unmistakable arousal. They had never been even close to this intimate, but he wasn’t really there and he couldn’t really touch her and she’d missed his constant presence by her side, so she just smiled.

“It’s our birthday,” she whispered, his arousal stirring hers, “and I’m about to celebrate with your family while you’re stuck holding all of time.”

Are you taunting me?

“No. I just thought…that a birthday present is in order. You know…after everything you’ve done for me, for…everyone…I thought I might be able to do something for you.”

Go on.

Oh, he was getting hot under the collar, she could tell. The water caressed her body sensually, flowing over her breasts and down her belly and into the junction between her legs. He wished he could be the water, she could sense it. He wished he was the one touching all of her body with his hands, with his tongue.

She put one hand on her breast, pinching the nipple softly between two fingers. A soft moan escaped her lips.

“Do you like that?”

He didn’t answer but she could feel his attention on her, laser focused, other timelines be damned. She slowly lowered her other hand down, down, past her belly and into the triangular patch of dark hair between her legs.

“How about this?”

If thoughts could pant heavily, his were doing so right now.

She slipped two fingers along her slit, separating the plump lips so he could get a better view of her. Mouth slightly open, she rubbed herself gently up and down until she could feel wetness pooling between her legs.

Slowly, making sure that he was with her all the time, she slid the fingers slightly into her cunt, collected some wetness and brought her fingers back up, pressing and sliding on both sides of her clit. Panting heavily herself, she did it again slowly, deliberately, and then faster, feeling the pleasure mount within her core.

Oh, Sylvie.

“Shut up,” she mumbled half-heartedly, getting lost in the sensations now, as she slid a finger from her other hand into her hot, wet, aching cunt.

You’re magnificent.

Unable to respond now, she added another finger, taking both in and out of her cunt while still rubbing her clit with her other hand. She threw her head backwards, exposing her neck for the kisses that never came, and kept rubbing herself inside and out, faster, wetter, rapidly climbing to the peak, so tantalizingly close.

He was so focused on her now she could practically feel his mouth water in a doomed desire to taste her, to lick her, to be the one who brought her this pleasure he could no longer bring himself. So she closed her eyes, concentrated, imagined that it weren’t her hands that were giving her such joy, but his hands, his tongue. She pictured his impossibly long fingers buried inside her, opening the aching walls of her cunt which were contracting more and more until suddenly, without warning, she was overcome with an explosion of pleasure.

She rode the wave, eyes closed in bliss, biting her lips so as not to moan out loud and then, quite suddenly, could literally feel his tongue on her clit, pressing on it, licking around it until she reached a second peak, shaking violently and fighting to stay standing, as the moan she couldn’t suppress anymore escaped her lips.

“Loki,” she whispered, eyes closed, leaning against the cold tiles of the still running shower. She felt tired and satiated, and she let the water wash over her as her body slowly came down from the high.

Happy birthday, Sylvie.

“Mmm.”

Just so you know, you made me soil my pants.

“You’re welcome,” she smiled sweetly, tiredly.

I don’t know how to clean it without using my hands.

“Oh, you big baby,” she grunted, and without missing a beat swiped her tempad and stepped into the time tree wet and naked as she was. She stood there, dripping over a surprised Loki, smiling mischievously. Before he could say anything, she cleaned his clothes with a wave of her hand.

“Better?” she asked.

“Much. Thank you,” he said, breathless, eyes roaming hungrily over her naked body.

“My pleasure,” she smirked. For a moment she stood there, dripping water and hesitant, and eventually leaned over and kissed him softly on the forehead.

“Happy birthday, Loki,” she whispered.

He said nothing in return, just looked at her wide-eyed as she opened a time door and stepped back into the shower, leaving only a puddle behind to assure him that he hadn’t imagined it all.

*

Thor had just finished making the pan-flaps when Sylvie came back downstairs. He couldn’t help but smile fondly when he saw her. She was barefoot, dressed in a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt of some Midgardian music group called “Kiss”. Her hair, grown out of the bizarre haircut she had when they first met, was mussed and curly. Unlike Loki’s raven-black mane, Sylvie’s natural hair was brown, and it gave her face a softer look than her male counterpart’s. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes sparkled with good humor and mischief.

For the thousandth time since he met her, Thor marveled at her existence. He was so lucky, having lost his entire family, to come across her like this. Sure, they did not grow up together and she could never really replace Loki, but he felt a connection with her nonetheless. Besides, she was so much like Loki in so many ways. Even now, he could tell by her small smile that she was pleased with the surprise he and Love planned, even though she tried her best to seem aloof and indifferent.

“Here, Auntie Sylvie,” Love said, pushing the plate of fluffy confections Sylvie’s way.

“Thanks, Love,” Sylvie smiled, pouring a ridiculous amount of chocolate syrup on a pan-flap before quickly destroying it.

“Can you pass the strawberries?” she asked with her mouth full, and Thor laughed.

Then again, in some ways she isn’t like Loki at all.

“We didn’t know what gift to get you,” Love said between bites.

“Gift?” Sylvie seemed genuinely surprised.

“Yes, Sister, a gift,” Thor said. “People give them to each-other. On birthdays.”

Sylvie tilted her head to the side, perplexed.

“You’ve…never got a gift?” Love asked carefully.

“I…have,” Sylvie said slowly, squinting as if trying to remember. “I mean, probably. To be honest, I don’t remember much from…before.”

“Oh,” Love said. “When…when my dad was still alive, we didn’t…we didn’t have much. All our people were dying, and we hardly had anything to eat, but he always made sure I had something for my birthday, even if he had to make it himself. He made me a water jug once, and another time he spent an entire year making beads out of rocks so he could give me a bracelet.”

Thor was saddened beyond words, but Sylvie just smiled kindly.

“You’re lucky to have had such a good dad,” she said, and Love nodded quickly and looked down on her plate.

What a bunch we make, Thor thought bitterly. Broken, every one of us.

“Anyway, you don’t have to get me anything,” Sylvie said. “This is plenty. It’s perfect.”

“Oh, but we did get you something!” Love said, excited again. “Would you like to see it?”

“Yes, please,” Sylvie was grinning now, suddenly looking eerily like Loki. That part about the whole thing was strangest for Thor: every time he got used to the idea of Sylvie being her own person, she did something so Loki-like that he was thrown completely off-balance.

Love jumped from her seat and rushed to the living room to get Sylvie’s present. The package was small and rather lumpy (Love wrapped it herself). Nevertheless, Sylvie was delighted. Without preamble, she ripped the wrapping paper with obvious glee. Inside there was a large coffee mug, dark green, shaped like a cat. On its side Love wrote with gold, water resistant marker “world’s best aunt”. For a moment, Sylvie just stared at it, and then hugged Love and kissed her, eyes suspiciously shiny.

“Thank you,” she said, looking suddenly shy and much younger than usual.

“Of course!” Thor said generously. “You are the world’s best aunt, you know. At least, I haven’t met many aunts that teach their nieces how to knock out a grown man with one punch.”

“It’s a useful skill, you know,” Sylvie said haughtily.

“I’m sure it is,” Thor said, but Sylvie wasn’t really listening. She had that look about her again, as if listening to something only she can hear, and…was that blush coloring her cheeks?

That’s new.

Sylvie snorted and took a sip of her birthday beer.

“Is he here?” Thor asked, although he already knew the answer.

“Yeah,” Sylvie said. “Sorry. He said it’s a shame the cat doesn’t have horns.”

“There’s no need to be jealous, Loki,” Thor said generously, “we can get you your own mug if you so desperately want one.”

Sylvie listened, sniggered, and said “He says: ‘make it a wine-glass, and by the gods do not make it green’.”

“I’ll do my best,” Thor promised, even though it was weird talking to a brother who wasn’t there.

“He’s just joking, you know,” Sylvie said. “He has nothing to do with a wine-glass up there. He can’t use his hands.”

“That’s awful,” Thor said, serious now. “Couldn’t there be a way to get him out of there? He cannot possibly intend to sit in that tree forever!”

“I tried,” Sylvie said. “I offered to look for a solution. He doesn’t want me to.”

“Sure he does,” Thor said offhandedly. “Even Loki cannot possibly spend forever with his ass on a throne.”

Sylvie listened attentively, raised her eyebrows, muttered something Thor didn’t catch and said “He says that you’re and ass, and he’s fine where he is.”

Thor gave Sylvie a doubtful look, and she shrugged.

“Hey Loki, shall we come and give you a pan-flap? Sylvie can spoon-feed you if you can’t do it yourself,” he suggested.

This time, when Sylvie listened for Loki’s reply, the blush was bright-red, and it rose all the way from her neck to her hairline.

“He says,” she started, cleared her throat, and took a steadying breath. “He says, thanks for the offer, brother, but I don’t get hungry.”

“There’s no way he said that,” Thor replied flatly.

“Well, he did say ‘brother’,” Sylvie said apologetically. “But no, he doesn’t want us to come.”

“What is up with him?” Thor asked, exasperated.

Sylvie grew serious.

“I think he just wants us to live our lives. I think he thinks it will give his sacrifice meaning, or something.”

“Coming home will give him better meaning,” Thor muttered bitterly. “Not that I don’t appreciate your sacrifice, brother,” he said out loud. “But I only ever want to see you happy.”

Sylvie listened for a long time, but when Thor asked what Loki said she just shook her head.

“He didn’t say anything,” she said. “In fact, he’s not here anymore. I think he needed some time alone.”

Thor nodded.

“He wasn’t here to begin with,” said Love, who until now was following the conversation quietly. “I mean, how do you even hear him?”

“I don’t know,” Sylvie said quietly. “I just do.”

“But how do we even know you’re not just being crazy?” Love asked sensibly, and Sylvie shrugged.

“You don’t, I guess. Listen, this was lovely, but I really need to get some sleep now. Thanks for the birthday dinner,” she said, getting up to leave, “and the present.”

“Did you like it?” Love asked, brightening up.

“Best present I ever got,” Sylvie said, “I mean it.”

After she left, Thor and Love remained quiet until they heard her bedroom door shut behind her.

“There’s definitely something going on with her and Loki,” Love said while chewing another pan-flap.

“Probably,” Thor agreed. “But how does that even work? Are variants related?”

Love shrugged.

“I mean, they’re not even supposed to exist in the same universe,” she said. “How can they be related?”

“Fair point,” Thor said. “But still, it’s strange.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Love said. “Maybe you should get a girlfriend, Uncle Thor.”

The beautiful face of Jane flashed before his eyes without warning, and Thor fought not to wince. No, not ready yet. Maybe not ever.

“The only girl I need in my life is you,” he said, smiling bravely at Love.

“Ew,” Love said, scowling. “That’s embarrassing, Uncle Thor.”

Chapter Text

Sif was just wrapping up her lesson when Thor and Val appeared behind the ridge, walking nonchalantly towards the training yard. Both were wearing their combat gear, which was unusual. Thor was dangling Mjolnir back and forth and Val was carrying her sword over her shoulder casually. Sylvie, who was standing to the side waiting for Sif, raised her eyebrows.

“What are you two doing here?” she asked. Last she saw of Thor was that morning, when he was packing Love’s lunch for school, and she hadn’t seen Val in a few days.

“We’ve been feeling a bit out of shape, that’s all,” Thor said, swinging Mjolnir for emphasis. Sylvie moved her gaze up and down his enormous arms and rolled her eyes.

“Clearly,” she said dryly.

“Sif here has been telling me you have some mad fighting skills,” Val added, “and Thor wants to take you with him next time he’s on a mission. So, as king, I thought it prudent to check for myself.”

Sylvie folded her arms.

“Are you saying you’re here to test me?”

“Yes,” Thor said, smirking.

“You’ve already seen me fight, Val,” Sylvie reminded her, impatient.

“It’s been a while,” Val said, “and besides, Thor hasn’t.”

“What’s wrong, Sis…Sylvie, are you scared I’ll kick your ass?” Thor asked with a cocky smile. It was such a departure from the guy Sylvie saw every day at home that she was thrown off-balance.

“No,” Sylvie lied, even though Thor literally crushing her seemed like a very real possibility.

“Great!” Thor said brightly. “Let’s spar then.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Sif asked, worried.

“No clue,” Val shrugged. “It’s entertaining, though.”

“But Sylvie is about half Thor’s size!” Sif insisted.

“Oh, come on, Sif,” Thor said, already circling Sylvie in the center of the yard. “I’ve sparred with you plenty of times, and you’re still alive, aren’t you?”

“That’s different,” Sif said, “I had two swords and you never used Mjol-ahh!”

Sif’s words were cut short by Thor’s mighty swing. Mjolnir whistled through the air, aimed at Sylvie. Except, Sylvie wasn’t there. She ducked, fast as lightning, aiming at his legs with her sword.

“You’re supposed to use training weapons!” Sif called from the sidelines, but both ignored her.

Thor tried swinging for Sylvie a few more times, and she dodged him, dancing this way and that. She tried to hit him with the flat of her sword but he deflected easily. It went on like that for a little while longer, both circling each-other, trying some half-hearted attacks, but neither of them using their full might.

“Ah!” Thor bellowed. “Give me some real fight, will you?”

“You asked for it,” Sylvie hissed through her teeth. The next time Thor swung, she hit him with a blast of magic that sent him flying butt-first to the floor.

“Not bad, sister,” he said, jumping to his feet, “but not good enough either.”

He launched Mjolnir her way and she jumped aside, tuck-and-rolled, and blasted him again.

“You know, Loki was never strong enough to defeat me,” Thor said. “What makes you think you’d be different?”

“I’m…not…him!” Sylvie yelled and jumped up, up, slamming her open palm on his chest and pushing.

Thor’s mind gave in instantly. As opposed to Loki, whose brain had defenses akin to the Great Wall, Thor’s mind was wide open and malleable. In a second, he froze where he was and Sylvie, satisfied with herself, had him pick up his hammer, kneel and yield the fight. Sylvie smirked, relishing her victory, and released the enchantment.

Thor stayed where he was for a few seconds, blinking in confusion.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I enchanted you,” Sylvie said, offering a hand to pull him back to his feet.

“How…how did you do that?” Thor asked. He seemed dazed.

Sylvie shrugged.

“It’s what I do.”

Just then, she jumped at the sound of slow clapping.

Shit.

In the heat of the fight, Sylvie had completely forgotten they had an audience. Now, as she turned to look at them, she saw a puzzled look in Sif’s eyes, while Val was clapping sarcastically at her. Thor walked to her side and put a hand over her shoulder.

“Well done,” Val said. “It’s not every day I see Thor on his knees.”

“She cheated,” Thor said casually.

“No I didn’t,” Sylvie said, pulling away from him. “Sif had a point. There’s no way I could beat you without using my magic. The point of a fight is not to be fair, it’s to win!”

“She’s right,” Sif said, shaking herself from her stupor. “I mean, you have the advantage of size and Mjolnir and, and – “

“Lightning,” Val added. “I’ve seen you blast half a battlefield with one slam of that hammer, so what if Sylvie used a little magic to beat you?”

“But what was it?” Sif asked. “What did you do?”

“I enchanted him,” Sylvie explained again, suddenly very self-conscious. “I…I took control of his mind and I…made him yield.”

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Sif murmured, clearly uncomfortable.

Sylvie shrugged again, looking away.

“What do you mean, it’s what you do?” Thor asked.

Oh, fuck it.

“It’s what I do, Thor,” Sylvie repeated. “I go into people’s heads, and I make them do what I need them to do. I’ve been doing it since I was a child. More often than not it made the difference between death and survival. Growing up in…the way I did…survival was all I had.”

Sif looked at her thoughtfully.

“You never mentioned you could use magic,” she said.

“It never came up,” Sylvie answered. It was true. Life in New-Asgard was fairly mellow, and she rarely needed to use her powers before.

“I knew she had magic,” Val said. “Besides, she’s from Vanaheim, isn’t everyone magic there?”

“Your magic is green,” Sif said suddenly. “Like Loki’s.”

“Well, we are cousins,” Sylvie said dryly.

“Were,” Thor jumped to interfere. “Were cousins. Loki died, remember?”

“Oh,” Sylvie said, distracted. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“What are you hiding, Sylvie?” Sif asked, looking at her through narrowed eyes.

“And where did you grow up that meant doing that…whatever it was…to survive?” Val added.

“Nothing,” Sylvie said to Sif, and to Val she said, “It’s a long story.”

“And as king of New-Asgard, don’t you think it’s something I should know?” Val inquired.

Sylvie looked her squarely in the eye.

“No, actually,” she said with finality. “Nothing worth noting.”

“And there isn’t someone from your mysterious past that might show up here looking for revenge?” Val insisted.

Sylvie sniggered.

“No one that’s still alive,” she said, not bothering to hide her proud smile.

“Thor, your family is so weird,” Sif said.

“I know,” Thor answered brightly. “Isn’t it great?”

“No,” Sif replied playfully. “But at least I know where Loki got his mischievous character. It was from your mother’s side of the family, wasn’t it?”

“You know he was adopted, right?” Thor asked, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, yeah,” Sif said. “I actually forgot. So why are you so much like Loki?” she asked, turning to Sylvie.

“No idea,” Sylvie said shortly.

“Come on, she’s nothing like him,” Val argued. “She doesn’t strut around with pompous swagger like that old ass did.”

“He did have quite the backside, now that you mention it,” Sif added seriously.

Sylvie stood there, eyebrows raised, and waited for them to change the subject.

Riveting conversation, said Loki, who finally joined her. Are you enjoying it, Love?

Unable to answer in front of a crowd, she just subtly shook her head.

“Ok, if the interrogation is quite over, I think I’ll turn in now,” she said out loud. “It’s been a long day. Sif, see you tomorrow?”

“As long as you don’t do that…whatever it was, then yes,” Sif said.

Sylvie nodded.

“Want me to come with you, sister?” Thor asked.

“No, it’s ok. Stay here, you could use the practice,” Sylvie said with a small smile. “And I’m not your sister.”

As she was walking away she heard Sif ask “why did you call her sister, Thor?”

“Oh, you know, she’s like a sister to me!” Thor said, trying to sound casual but coming off as anything but.

Sylvie felt Sif’s suspicious gaze on her all the way back from the beach.

*

When Sylvie walked into the tree, Loki’s head was leaned back, staring into the rising tangle of time-branches above him. His eyes, reflecting the green light, were wide open, but he gave no indication that he noticed her presence. Sylvie snuck a look at his beautiful hands, trapped as they were in a vice grip, and winced silently.

“Ahem,” she said dryly.

Loki jumped.

“Sylvie!” he called, surprised. “What are you doing here?!”

“Checking in on you, idiot,” Sylvie mumbled. “Making sure you didn’t lose your mind out here. Where is my chair?”

Loki smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkling, and gave the branches a little shake. As they floated in the air, Sylvie’s chair was revealed.

“There you are, Love,” he said, and laughed when Sylvie gave him a side-eye.

“Why do you call me that?” she asked.

“Just trying it out, darling,” Loki drawled. “What do you think?”

“Well, given that our niece’s name is Love, I think it’s confusing,” Sylvie remarked.

“Point taken,” Loki said seriously.

There was an awkward pause.

“That was stupid, what you did out there,” Loki said.

“I know.”

“I mean, I don’t mind a few power blasts here and there, but enchanting Thor in front of people is sure to make everyone wary. It’s not a common gift, Sylvie.”

“Really?” Sylvie asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I’m serious,” Loki said. “Sif is already suspicious, and that Val person probably is too.”

“So? What can I do about it?” Sylvie asked. “I mean, my magic was bound to come up sooner or later.”

“I think you should tell them the truth,” Loki said.

“No,” Sylvie said flatly.

“Why not?” Loki asked. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Famous last words,” Sylvie remarked, and they both chuckled.

“Loki,” Sylvie said, growing serious, “when you left the TVA to do…this, you told me you were doing it for me, so that I could have a chance to live, right?”

“Well, you and Mobius,” Loki said, “and everyone else, really, all you guys, the TVA, people on the timelines…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sylvie cut him short. “I’m just trying to do that. Live, I mean.”

For you. For me.

“I know,” Loki nodded, earnest.

“It’s weird for me being around your family, your people,” Sylvie said. “It’s like I’m living your life. It doesn’t seem right.”

“They’re your people too, Sylvie,” Loki said softly.

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Sylvie said, not looking at him.

“Is that why you don’t want to tell anyone?” Loki asked.

“Partly,” Sylvie said. “I mean, they’re already comparing me to you constantly. Imagine if they knew we were variants. And also, I couldn’t help but notice that you didn’t have the best interpersonal skills growing up,” she added, and Loki gave a pained little smile. “I just…don’t want them to think I am you. I’m not you, Loki.”

“I know,” Loki said, serious. “You’ve told me that several times.”

Sylvie snuck a look at him, smiled briefly, and looked away again. For a while they sat silently side by side, marveling at the beauty of the tree.

“Can I ask you something?” Loki said finally.

“Mmm?”

“Back in the citadel, when we…when you kissed me, why did you do it?” Loki asked.

Suddenly, Sylvie was all there.

“I needed to distract you,” she answered immediately.

“I know,” Loki said, “but is that all it was?”

Sylvie looked at her knees, frowning.

“I…don’t know,” she admitted. “It seemed fitting in the moment. I guess I wanted to thank you for everything, and you gave that heartfelt speech…I guess I didn’t want to hurt you either. So I…”

“Got me out of the way?” Loki completed the thought, frowning as well.

“Well, yeah,” Sylvie said.

“You did hurt me,” Loki said.

“I know,” Sylvie nodded. “But I’m not going to say I’m sorry, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Loki said dryly.

Sylvie gave him an annoyed look.

“I did what I had to do, Loki.”

“I know that,” Loki said. “I know you had to kill him. I know there’s nothing in the world I could’ve done to stop you. Believe me, I know. I mean, I tried about a thousand times, and nothing worked.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“When the loom broke…the first time it did I mean, I started time-slipping again. At first I couldn’t control it, and then I learned how, and then…then I spent centuries going back to that moment, trying to save it.”

“What?!” Sylvie whispered, too shocked for words.

“It didn’t work,” Loki said matter-of-factly. “It couldn’t work. The whole purpose of the loom was to destroy everything except the sacred timeline. It was a fail-safe.”

Sylvie felt all the blood running from her face.

“Of course it was,” she said, suddenly exasperated.

“So then,” Loki continued, “then I tried to tackle the problem from a different angle.”

“You tried to stop me killing him?” Sylvie asked, finally beginning to understand.

Loki nodded.

“I went back. Back to the citadel, back to our fight, and I tried…everything. I tried everything to convince you, and nothing worked. And the worst part was that you kept saying that if I want to stop you –“

“You’d have to kill me,” Sylvie finished.

Loki nodded.

“Why didn’t you?” Sylvie asked, almost in a whisper.

Loki gave her a look that was almost…pitying.

“Do you really not know the answer to that by now?”

Sylvie said nothing. For a long time they were silent, staring at each other, neither of them brave enough to say it out loud.

“So that’s why you did this,” Sylvie said, finally understanding.

Loki nodded slowly, emphatically.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sylvie asked.

“There wasn’t time,” Loki said. “After the loom exploded the branches immediately started dying.”

“No, before that,” Sylvie said. “You just went down to the gangway and you locked us out. Me and Mobius. We wanted to help you, we would’ve helped you. Why didn’t you let us?”

“You couldn’t help me!” Loki yelled, making her jump in her seat. “No one could help me. Don’t you see? That was his plan from the start. He needed you to throw me out using that tempad so I’d be unmoored from time, hence the time-slipping. He wanted me to have this power so that I’d have to learn how to control time, and he introduced me to you so that I’d have the motivation to do it.”

“So I was just a pawn,” Sylvie said, laughing bitterly.

“We were all just pawns to him,” Loki answered tiredly. “It was all just one big game.”

“Why you?” Sylvie asked quietly.

Loki gave a short, bitter laugh.

“I think he was counting on my desire for a throne to overtake me in the end. I mean, I don’t blame him. It always did, my entire life. I killed and I lied and I cheated for that throne. I tried to take over Midgard just to have a throne. I guess he thought that if he could offer me a seat at the end of time, I’d jump at the opportunity to be in control of everything.”

“You are at the end of time,” Sylvie remarked flatly.

“Oh, yes,” Loki laughed again. “I am, aren’t I? But not in the way he intended. You see, he wanted me to rule with him. To help him, I don’t know.”

“And you don’t do teams?” Sylvie asked with disdain.

Loki gave her a flat look.

“Is that what you think of me? After all this time?”

In a flash, Sylvie saw Loki in the TVA, with his friends: Mobius, Casey, O.B., B-15. His team. She also saw how lonely he was, now, and how rather than control all of time, he was protecting it.

“Oh,” Sylvie said weakly. “Sorry. But where is he? What happened?”

Loki shrugged, looking away.

“He wanted me to kill you.”

Sylvie stared at him.

“So all of this…” she made a wide gesture at the glowing time tree all around them, “was just so you won’t have to kill…me?”

Loki shrugged. Sylvie’s eyes found his hands, his beautiful, expressive hands that he could not use anymore because of his sacrifice. She was touched beyond words. She put her hand on his immobile one in a weak attempt to convey her gratitude.

“I’m sorry,” she said through the lump in her throat. “I didn’t know.”

Loki nodded, not looking at her.

“Thank you,” Sylvie said quietly, and Loki gave her a brave little smile.

“My pleasure.”

Chapter Text

“Hey, where’s your mind tonight?” Val asked. Sylvie, who’d been staring at her untouched mug of ale, looked up, startled.

“What?”

“I said, where’s your mind tonight?” Val repeated. “You haven’t said a word in the last hour.”

Next to her, Carol nodded, and Sif quirked her eyebrow in agreement.

“It’s true,” Carol agreed, “Val told at least twelve dirty jokes and you didn’t even comment.”

“Are you alright?” Sif asked quietly. Ever since she saw Sylvie enchant Thor, she had been cautious around her. She sparred with her same as always, but the easy camaraderie was gone. More than once, Sylvie caught her looking at her intently, her eyes narrowed, seemingly lost in thought. It was as if she was trying to solve a complicated riddle. Sylvie had the uncomfortable feeling that she had been figured out, although Sif never came outright and blamed her for anything. She also stopped comparing her to Loki, which made Sylvie more worried than it should have.

Now it was Thursday night, and Sylvie had joined the usual suspects for drinks at the tavern. Carol had flown in from America, much to Val’s delight, and their table was flooded with drinks sent over by a table of very eager tourists. The conversation was flowing easily, but Sylvie found herself drifting away all the same.

It was true; her mind was indeed somewhere else: with a tall figure, sitting alone in a throne in a tree. She hadn’t seen Loki since he told her the truth about the citadel. Since he told her how he’d rather be alone forever than harm her.

It broke her heart.

She carried on regardless, as she always did. She was skilled at that, wasn’t she?

Just one more day, one more apocalypse, one more disgusting meal, one more unsatisfying shag. Just one more minuteman, one more reset charge, one more fight. One more of whatever she needed to do to survive.

Now, however, she had a new emotion to accompany her everyday life: guilt. It had been building for months, ever since she came to live with Thor and Love, and got worse with every day she spent in New-Asgard. Every day she spent living Loki’s life, while he was wilting away at the end of time.

Her heart ached.

She didn’t know if she loved him. Not in the way he loved her – another undeserved emotion, in her opinion. In all of their encounters he had been, mostly, sweet and kind and brave and loyal. He did nothing but assure her that he meant her no harm, that he just wanted her to be okay.

In return, she stomped all over his heart. She didn’t mean to. She just got…scared. She didn’t deserve him, was unworthy of his love. He deserved so much better than her.

“Sylvie?”

“I’m fine,” Sylvie said, shrugging, “just a little tired, that’s all.”

“Oh, yes, your little trip with Thor,” Val said. “How did it go? Didn’t get a chance to ask.”

Sylvie had gone with Thor and Love on one of their missions the day before. It was a minor thing, just some border dispute between two neighboring tribes. One of them had decided to take over a well that was traditionally used by both. The chief of the other tribe, who had met Thor in the fighting pits in Sakaar, asked him to help. It was a small thing, really.

Sylvie smirked cockily. “It went fine. We came, we fought, we kicked some ass. It was fun.”

“And the tribes?” Val asked, raising her eyebrows.

Sylvie shrugged again.

“They talked it over. It turns out the son of the chief of the belligerent tribe was in love with the daughter of the other one, so they concocted the whole thing between them in order to get a peace treaty by marriage.”

She took a swig of her ale.

“Could’ve just run off to Vegas, if you ask me, but to each their own I guess,” she said dryly.

Carol chuckled. Sif rolled her eyes, smiling nonetheless. After that, the conversation moved off to other topics, leaving Sylvie to sink into her thoughts again.

Are you okay?

She tilted her head to the side, surprised. Loki had been silent until now, and she was too stubborn to admit that she missed him. Still, not wanting to appear insane, she simply nodded curtly.

Just checking. The Valkyrie’s right, you do look out of sorts tonight.

She wished he could hear her thoughts. She wondered why he couldn’t. In the meantime, unable to say anything in company, she simply bit her lower lip, looked down on her fingernails and waited for the evening to be over.

At the end of the night, Val and Carol left together, leaving Sif and Sylvie to walk home by themselves.

“You haven’t come sparring in a few days,” Sif said cautiously. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Sylvie laughed mirthlessly. “Everyone keeps asking me that.”

“Because we can see there’s something on your mind,” Sif said. “You can tell me, you know.”

Sylvie looked at her, surprised.

“Can I?”

“Yes,” Sif said firmly. “I mean, we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Are we?” Sylvie asked.

Sif gave her a side-eye.

“I mean, yeah,” she said, “sort of. You know everything about me by now, but I don’t know all that much about you.”

Sylvie was momentarily thrown back to a nearly identical conversation she had with Loki, on Lamentis. She shook her head to bring herself back to the present.

“There really isn’t much to know,” she said, shrugging.

“I beg to differ,” Sif said. “You say you’re from Vanaheim, but you didn’t grow up there. You claim to be Asgardian, but you didn’t grow up there either. You’re Thor’s cousin, but he calls you sister, and you’re incredibly like…”

She trailed off, giving Sylvie a cautious look.

Sylvie took a deep breath.

“You can say it,” She sighed.

“Like Loki,” Sif said forcefully. “You’re smart like him, secretive like him, have the same sense of humor, the same shade of magic…I mean, you’re also unlike him in many ways, but I can’t help the feeling…I can’t help but thinking…”

“Yes?” Sylvie asked, realizing they had stopped walking.

Sif took a deep breath.

“Sylvie, are you Loki’s sister?” she asked.

“What?!”

Sylvie was flabbergasted.

“Are you Loki’s sister? Did Laufey have another child?” Sif asked. “I mean, that would explain why you hate talking about yourself, being a frost giant among Asgardians would be no picnic, but you can tell me if you are, I can keep a secret.”

She looked so hopeful. Sylvie just shook her head, her heart squeezing painfully.

“No, I’m not Loki’s sister,” she said. “Sorry,” she added hastily.

“So why does Thor call you sister?” Sif insisted.

“No idea, you should ask him.”

You can tell her, she heard Loki whisper in her ear. She can keep a secret, and she will not leave you alone until you do.

“Really?” she asked out loud. “Are you sure?”

I’m sure.

Sif’s eyes were as big as saucers.

“Who did you talk to just now?”

Sylvie sighed.

“Loki,” she said quietly.

Sif gave her a doubtful look.

“So you can talk to the dead now?” she asked.

“No.”

“Sylvie, what is going on?” Sif asked. “I’ve got half a mind to start screaming and wake up all of New Asgard if you don’t tell me this minute.”

“Can you…” Sylvie started, addressing the air above her head, “can you show yourself? Project one of your illusions, or duplicates or whatever you call them?”

When did you learn magic theory?

“Oh, please, Mobius goes on and on about it. It’s exhausting.”

She could feel Loki laughing.

He loves me, what can I say?

“Just shut up and do it, will you?” she asked, exasperated.

As you wish.

It started as a shimmer in the air beside them. The shimmer, green and gold, became brighter and brighter, slowly taking a familiar form: tall, slim figure, soft green robes and a massive, black and gold horned crown. He was grinning.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” Sylvie said flatly.

Sif stood with her mouth open.

“Loki?!”

“Shh, Sif, be quiet,” Loki said, “we don’t want to wake up the entire town, now do we?”

“But…you’re alive?” Sif asked, perplexed. Then, her face hardened. “You faked your death again, didn’t you? I just can’t believe you! Do you know how miserable Thor was? I can’t believe you keep doing this to him!”

“Sif, Sif, shh, be quiet!” Loki tried whispering, but Sif was only getting more heated.

“You banished me from Asgard!” she said, furious now, “when you pretended to be Odin. I know it was you! Odin never had that ridiculous swagger of yours. Where are you hiding? I’m coming to kill you right now!”

Loki turned to Sylvie, eyes pleading. She rolled her eyes and waved her hand in a gesture she picked up from his mind, enveloping the three of them in a bubble. To the outside world, they were invisible and inaudible. Inside, Sif was pacing side to side, hurling insults at Loki.

“Sif,” he tried to say, to no avail. “Sif, Sif, stop. Stop.”

“Sif,” Sylvie said gently, placing a hand on Sif’s arm.

Sif stopped in her tracks. She gave Sylvie an incredulous look.

“Who are you?” she asked again. “Truly?”

Sylvie looked at Loki.

“You might as well tell her,” he suggested, “or she’ll never leave you alone. She’s tenacious.”

“I am,” Sif agreed, “as much as I hate to agree with Loki. So, just tell me. Who are you?”

“I’m Loki,” Sylvie said simply.

“Sorry?”

“Well, not Loki Loki, obviously. A Loki. I’m from another universe,” she added helpfully, only to get a blank stare in response.

“You’re…” Sif said, pointing from Sylvie to the now serious, slightly shimmering Loki duplicate, “him?”

“Oh, she’s not me,” Loki hurried to say. “Well, not exactly. We’re variants. Same person, different reality. In her universe, she was Loki, but she goes by Sylvie now.”

“Thank you, Loki,” Sylvie said through gritted teeth.

Sif looked at the both of them in silence for a long time. Eventually, she stood taller, squaring her shoulders.

“Does Thor know?”

“Yes.”

“Love?”

Sylvie nodded.

“So that’s why he calls you sister,” Sif said, with an air of triumph. “I knew you weren’t his cousin.”

“Yes, very astute of you,” Loki said. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“Of course I won’t,” Sif said. “Who would believe me? Besides, ever since the Warriors Three died there’s no one around to tease you with, so what’s the point?”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Loki said, “I’m sorry about your hair.”

“What?” Sif looked startled.

“Your hair,” Loki said, “I’m sorry I cut it. It was stupid, and cruel. I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry.”

Sif looked from him to Sylvie.

“What happened to him?” she asked, incredulous. Sylvie smiled, unable to look her in the eye all of a sudden. Her cheeks were burning, and she avoided Loki’s eyes with all her might. She could feel them on her anyway, soft and warm.

“How exactly did you two meet?” Sif asked when it became clear she isn’t going to get an answer.

Loki and Sylvie shrugged in unison.

“She tried to kill me,” Loki said.

“Please,” Sylvie rolled her eyes, “you tried to kill me.”

“No I didn’t,” Loki said earnestly. “I would never kill you,” he added.

Sylvie sighed. “I know. I…I wouldn’t kill you either, just so we’re clear.”

Loki grinned.

“Well, how can you give up all this?” he asked, gesturing at himself cockily.

Sylvie scoffed, but couldn’t hide the genuine affection tugging at the corners of her lips.

“What are you wearing?!” Sif asked suddenly, making the both of them jump.

“What, you don’t like it?” Loki asked testily.

“No, it’s not that,” Sif asked, “Although…what are those shoes?!”

“They’re comfortable,” Loki huffed, annoyed, and glared at Sylvie when she laughed.

“It’s just…it’s not very like you, that’s all,” Sif said.

Loki grew serious.

“There is a lot you don’t know about me, Sif,” he said quietly. Momentarily, his image flickered, the subtle shift catching Sylvie’s attention.

He’s tired.

“Is it hard?” she asked, “casting a duplicate this far?”

“Oh, yes,” Loki said casually. “I mean, with everything else I’ve got going on.”

Sylvie grimaced.

“You better go, then,” she said sadly.

Loki nodded.

“It was good seeing you,” he told Sif. “Please don’t tell anyone. About Sylvie, I mean. She doesn’t want to be judged for my actions, you see.”

Sylvie’s eyes filled with tears so fast, she couldn’t stop them from falling. Sif looked from her to Loki and back. Sylvie wiped her eyes with her hands furiously.

“How do you always do that?” she asked Loki in an accusatory tone.

“I never mean to,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, I – “

“It’s not your fault,” she cut him short, and his mouth snapped shut. He nodded, but his eyes were still soulful and full of regret.

Sif looked between the two of them mutely.

“Please, Sif,” Loki said eventually, as Sylvie continued crying silently.

“Don’t worry,” Sif reassured him, “her secret is safe with me.”

“Thank you,” Loki said, relieved.

“Thank you,” Sif said, “for your apology. It’s about five hundred years too late, but I appreciate it.”

Loki nodded.

“Come see me later?” he asked Sylvie, who nodded through her tears.

In a flash, the duplicate disappeared. Both women stood silently for a moment, looking at the spot where he had been, until Sylvie waved her hand casually and lifted the secrecy bubble.

“Did Loki teach you how to do that?” Sif asked quietly.

“Picked it up in his head,” Sylvie said, sniffling. “It’s a long story.”

Sif nodded, seemingly speechless.

“I won’t tell anyone, you know,” she said seriously. “I imagine this is all complicated for you even without people conflating you with Loki.”

“I mean, he is kind of an idiot,” Sylvie said through her tears.

Hey!

“He can be, yes,” Sif agreed. “Is that why you’re crying?”

“I don’t know,” Sylvie said truthfully. “It sort of just happens. I don’t know why.”

“I have a few guesses,” Sif said, her eyebrow raised, “but I’ll keep them for another time.”

“How about keep them forever?” Sylvie asked, and Sif laughed.

“Probably for the best,” she said. “Still, thanks for confiding in me.”

“Didn’t really have a choice,” Sylvie muttered.

“That’s true,” Sif shrugged. “Come on, I’ll walk you home. Thor must be worried sick by now.”

Chapter Text

“Hi,” Loki said when Sylvie finally joined him. She seemed tired, out of sorts, and a little tipsy. He gave the time branches a little shake, and they floated away to reveal her chair. With a grateful sigh, she collapsed on it.

“Thanks,” she said, and he nodded.

“That was fun,” Loki said, “casting a duplicate. I didn’t try that until now.”

Sylvie gave him a once-over.

“You look tired,” she remarked.

Loki looked down at his hands. They were shaking. He couldn’t feel them anymore, mostly, and a small part of him was deathly scared that he had lost use of them for good.

“Well, it did take a lot of effort,” he admitted. “Casting a duplicate into the timeline…that’s pretty far.”

“Do you ever get to rest?” Sylvie asked, her whole body turned towards him in the chair. Again, like she did the last few times she came to visit, she covered one of his hands with her own and tried to ease his pain with magic.

His heart fluttered and he ordered it to stop. No matter how much he wanted to sink into the feeling, loving Sylvie was dangerous. He’d told himself it didn’t matter whether she loved him back or not, but that was a lie.

“I don’t need rest,” he said instead. “Time doesn’t pass here, so I don’t really get tired.”

“You’re tired now,” Sylvie remarked flatly.

“That’s different,” Loki said. “I just used too much magic. It’ll pass.”

“How?” Sylvie asked. “You use magic non-stop. How do you get to recharge?”

Loki smiled.

“I look at you,” he said before he could think better of it.

“Excuse me?”

“Well, not just you. Thor too, and Love, and, and Mobius…”

But mostly you.

“Why?” Sylvie asked, pretending to be very concentrated on her task.

“I…don’t know,” Loki admitted. “I like getting lost in other people’s stories. Being absorbed in them, bearing witness…it helps.”

“With the boredom?” Sylvie asked, her mouth twitching.

“Yes, but also with the burden,” Loki said seriously. “It helps to remember why I’m doing this in the first place.”

“For all of us,” Sylvie said quietly.

“Exactly.”

“Except you,” she added, not looking at him again. She switched to his other hand.

Loki didn’t know what to say.

“Do you ever want to leave this place?” Sylvie asked.

“I can’t leave, Sylvie, you know that.”

“But what if you could?” Sylvie asked. She was looking at him again, her eyes full of hope and something else he didn’t dare define. “What if we found a solution, and you could – “

“No,” he said flatly.

She frowned.

“Why not?”

“I can’t leave, Sylvie.”

“But what if you could?”

“I can’t,” he repeated, “and even if I could, where would I go?”

She huffed.

“You’re more of an idiot than I thought,” she said.

“Thank you.”

Sylvie chuckled. For a while they just sat there, staring into each other’s eyes. Gods, Loki loved her eyes. They were dark, and stormy, and full of expression…everything he needed to know about her was right there in her eyes. Right now they were full of challenge, and regret, and…and…

“What?” she asked, blushing slightly.

“What?” he repeated, surprised.

“You’re looking at me like you’re dying of thirst and I’m a tall glass of water.”

“I am dying of thirst.”

Sylvie raised her eyebrows in challenge. He mirrored her, smirking. He longed to hold her hand, like they used to when things were a little less complicated. Instead, he winked at her. She rolled her eyes, her mouth twitching in a smile.

She wasn’t looking at him. Instead, she was looking to the side, biting her lower lip, clearly in some sort of internal struggle. Finally, she sighed, visibly sagging.

“What?” Loki asked, worried now.

She shook her head.

“Nothing.”

“Sylvie.”

She looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I hate seeing you like this,” she admitted. “I hate seeing you…trapped. You shouldn’t be. You should be free to write your story like the rest of us.”

“And?” Loki asked.

“And…nothing.”

“Sylvie,” he said again.

She shook her head, seemingly coming to a decision. She stood up from her chair and, slowly, approached his. From this close, he had to look up at her, and he really didn’t mind. She was the most beautiful person he’d ever met. Slowly, timidly, she leaned forward and planted a kiss of his forehead.

“What was that for?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“You,” she whispered. “May I…kiss you?”

He had half a mind to giggle, but stopped himself right on time.

“Yes,” he whispered instead, and her lips landed on his. The kiss was soft and warm, tender instead of demanding. A warm puff of air escaped Sylvie’s mouth as she chuckled, the tip of her tongue moving over his lips, asking to enter.

He opened his mouth eagerly, letting her explore as much as she wished. She leaned closer into him, deepening the kiss, eventually landing in his lap, her legs on either side of his hips. He had to remind himself he was still holding the timelines, because all he wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and never let her go.

“Why?” he asked when they surfaced for air.

“I don’t know,” she answered breathily. “Don’t overthink it,” she added, diving back towards his mouth. He tried not to, he really did.

“Sylvie,” he pleaded when she surfaced for air again. He hated stopping her, but felt like he had to.

“Mmm?” she asked. Her eyes were unfocused.

“I am overthinking it.”

She rolled her eyes, leaning back from him.

“I just want to feel you,” she said, diving back to grasp his lips with hers. “Is that so bad?”

“That depends,” he murmured into her mouth. “Is this another trick?”

“No trick,” Sylvie said, breathy, her hips grinding into his urgently. Loki felt his body inevitably respond, his cock hardening under the rhythmic movements. Blood was rushing to his ears. For a moment, all he could feel was Sylvie, her lips and her scent and the enticing little sounds she was making; but when she sent a hand to grab him underneath his robe, he gave a startled gasp.

“What are you doing?” he asked. His heart was hammering in his chest.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know,” she said, her hand stroking his ever hardening cock.

“Please,” he asked, “slow down.”

“Why?” she asked, squirming in his lap, sending hot jolts of pleasure up his spine.

“What’s the rush?” he insisted, fighting the wave of need that was threatening to overtake him.

“What do you mean?” she asked, confused. “Didn’t take you for a prude.”

“Sylvie.”

She stopped her ministrations of his cock, and he was torn between a sense of relief and an insistent need to beg her to continue. Gods, how long had he wanted her like this? Centuries?

He sighed.

“I just…I’d like it to last longer,” he admitted.

“Longer?” she seemed surprised. “Why?”

“Because I want to enjoy this for as long as I can,” he explained patiently, as if to a child, “and more importantly, I want to make you enjoy it for as long as I can.”

Tears sprang to her eyes again, unbidden. She blinked quickly a few times, fighting them.

“You do?” she asked, her voice much smaller all of a sudden.

“Yes,” he said.

She blinked again.

“No one…no one ever cared about me during sex before,” she said in a choked voice, and his heart broke a little. “It was always…I was always…”

“I know,” he said, his heart going out to her. “I know, Sylvie. But this is different. This isn’t the apocalypse. There’s no calamity waiting for us at the end of this. We have all the time in the world to enjoy ourselves. You are safe here.”

“I’m safe here,” she repeated, as if the notion was completely foreign to her.

“Now, kiss me,” he demanded, “but take your time.”

Without further ado Sylvie, smiling through her tears, leaned down to cover his mouth with hers. It was much more leisurely now, taking the time to explore each other’s mouths, Sylvie covering his face and neck with kisses. Loki, his hands bound to the timelines, threw his head back and let her set his body on fire.

Gods, he wanted nothing more than to touch her, to explore her body with his fingers and his tongue, to pinch her nipples and stroke her clit and make her gasp, moan, scream, come…he wanted nothing, nothing as much as he wanted her.

“Sylvie,” he croaked, and she raised her eyes at him, dazed. He could feel her center even through the layers of clothes, hot and demanding.

“Mmm?” she asked, grinding into his cock absentmindedly, her nimble fingers exploring his clavicle under his robes.

“I want to taste you,” he whispered, and she smiled.

“How will we manage that?” she asked, amused.

“First, take off your clothes,” he growled, commanding. “Let me see you.”

Without a word, she stood up and, raising her eyebrow cockily at him, undressed herself leisurely, coat then shirt than pants than bra, until she was standing in front of him with nothing but a simple cotton underwear.

“Take those off,” he commanded, growing hot and impatient, and she obeyed without a word.

“Now what?” she asked. Her pink nipples were standing on end, and Loki felt his mouth watering.

“Sit on my shoulders,” he asked and, clearly intrigued, she obliged.

Her weight on his shoulders hurt a little, but all Loki could feel and see was her dripping cunt in front of his nose, the best meal he’d been offered in days.

“Oh, yes,” he mumbled and dove in, tasting her with gusto like a starving man. She grabbed unto his horned crown, moaning and pressing her cunt into his face. Loki licked her all over, tracing her folds with his tongue, passing it above and around her clit.

“Loki,” she breathed out and, encouraged, he repeated the movements until she started wreathing and shaking uncontrollably. He pressed the flat of his tongue to her opening and felt her contracting and pulsating around him, and it was the closest to heaven he’d ever been.

Afterwards, she slid down off his shoulders, sitting in his lap again with her legs on both sides of his hips. She kissed him at length, sweet and content.

“Now you,” she whispered, sending her hand again to free his aching cock from his robes. She was about to kneel in front of him and take him in her mouth, but he shook his head at that.

“No,” he growled, urgent. “Not that. I want to feel you.”

“Okay,” she said, nodding slightly, and lifted herself up to sit on top of him again. He notched at her entrance, her small and confident hand aligning him, and then she sank slowly unto him, taking him into her hot, wet center.

They both moaned in unison. Sylvie sank down until he was seated completely inside her and then, her mouth searching his lips again, slid back up until he was nearly out all the way, and lowered back down again. He could feel her hardened nipples grazing his chest through his robes, her hot breath in his mouth, and her wet cunt enveloping him in a steady rhythm.

It wasn’t long before her movements grew fast an uncoordinated as she was getting lost in her ever mounting pleasure. Soon she threw her head back as a second orgasm overtook her, and Loki could only stare, mesmerized, at her eyes and lips fluttering with pleasure. Her cunt squeezed him tightly and as she started convulsing around him, he reached the peak as well, spilling into her in hot waves of pleasure.

Afterwards she relaxed into him, limp and content, her head resting in the crook of his neck. She held him in her arms, peppering his skin with lazy kisses.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “It was the best…the best I’ve ever had.”

“My pleasure,” he said. “Truly.”

She giggled.

“Oh, I’m sure it was.”

“It can be much better, you know,” Loki said wistfully.

“Can it?” Sylvie asked, surprised. She had thought herself somewhat of an expert on sex, having done it so many times and with so many different people, but…she never had anything like this. She wasn’t lying when she told Loki no one ever considered her before. At the end of the world, people never put strangers ahead of themselves.

Loki chuckled wistfully, shaking his head. “Oh, darling,” he drawled, looking like he wanted to swallow her whole, “If I could just use my hands, I’d show you.”

She arched an eyebrow, but couldn’t hide the smile. She also couldn’t hide the blush, but she wasn’t really all that bothered by it. Not really.

Eventually, he grew serious again. “I just…I wish I could touch you,” he admitted ruefully, and she sighed.

“Is there any way we could get you out of here?” she asked, sadness creeping into her voice.

“No,” he said. “It’s the only way anything survives, Sylvie. I have to do this.”

“But what about you?” she asked. “How are you supposed to survive, like this, forever?”

“Well, I hope you’ll come and visit me again,” he said, only half joking.

She lifted her eyes to look into his, sorrowful.

“I’m not going to live forever, Loki. If you stay here, then eventually…eventually, there will be no one left alive to remember you. I can’t bear the thought of you sitting here alone until the end of time.”

“It’s my burden, Sylvie,” he said gently, and she shook her head.

“No.”

“Please,” he pleaded, “I need you to live your life.”

“No,” she insisted. “My life needs you in it. Thor’s too, and Mobius, and Love. We need you, Loki. Please…let us help you.”

He shook his head, wishing more than anything that he could hug her.

For a long time, they said nothing more. Eventually, Sylvie slid off of him and cleaned them both with a wave of magic. She gently tucked his softening cock back into his robes and went about picking up her clothes from between the tangles of the ever growing time branches. When she finished dressing, she kissed him softly on the lips. His eyes fluttered shut.

“I have to go,” she whispered.

“Come back soon,” he asked, trying and failing not to sound pathetic.

“I will,” she promised, and with a swipe on her wrist opened a time door and was gone.

Chapter Text

“Mobius!” Sylvie stepped out of a time-door straight into the old analyst’s bedroom.

“Gah!” roared Mobius, who woke up with a start. “Sylvie, how many times do I have to tell you, don’t show up in my bedroom!”

“Oh,” Sylvie smirked, looking around her. There were clothes strewn on the floor, a pair of pants and a shirt folded on a nearby chair, and Mobius himself in boxers, a t-shirt and morning stubble. “Didn’t seem to disturb much,” She remarked.

“That’s not the point,” Mobius gave her a reproving glare.

Sylvie sniggered.

“Oh, you Lokis will be the end of me,” Mobius groaned, dragged himself to the chair and pulled the pants on. “Ok, you can explain whatever it is after I’ve had a shave and a cup of coffee, understood?”

Sylvie nodded mutely, departing to the living room. When Mobius came out of his bathroom, teeth brushed and cheeks smooth, he found her leafing through his record collection.

“Found anything interesting?” He asked.

“Not really,” Sylvie answered. “Didn’t take you for a country fan.”

“It’s folk, thank you very much,” Mobius corrected, “and it’s fun. You’re the goddess of mischief, don’t tell me you don’t approve of a little fun.”

“Not this kind of fun,” Sylvie muttered under her breath. Mobius gave her a once-over. Her hair, which he had last seen as she was growing out her mullet, was longer than he remembered. Her Ankh earing was gone, and instead she had a pair of brass earrings of Asgardian design. She wore a pair of faded jeans and a button-down flannel shirt, and the same trusty pair of boots he always saw her in. As always, she was wearing her sword on her belt.

“So, haven’t seen you in a while,” Mobius said. “What have you been up to these days? Where do you call home?”

“New-Asgard,” Sylvie said, to his surprise.

“Really?” Mobius asked. “Going back to your roots, huh? Have you seen Thor yet? Is he even there?”

“Yeah, he’s there,” Sylvie said shortly. “We’re roommates, actually.”

Mobius stared at her, open-mouthed.

“You and Thor are living together?”

“Yeah,” Sylvie said. “Well, It’s more like I’m living in his attic. His and Love’s, that’s his daughter. Did you know Thor had a daughter?”

“Thors were not my specialty,” Mobius mumbled apologetically. “So, wait. How did that happen? Does he know who you are?”

Sylvie told him shortly about New-York, the wizard, her meeting with Thor, and Loki’s tree situation.

“You’ve seen Loki?” Mobius asked, surprised. “I thought the only way to get out there was through the void…you know, like you guys did last time. How did you manage to even go there?”

Sylvie looked at him like he was insane.

“I have He-Who-Remains’ tempad,” she explained. “It can get me anywhere.”

“Oh,” Mobius said weakly. “Good point. So wait, he saw Thor? What was that like?”

“Awkward,” Sylvie said. “Listen, Mobius, I need your help.”

“You? Sylvie Laufydottir, asking for help?” Mobius asked. “It must be bad.”

“It’s Loki,” Sylvie explained. “We have to find a way to get him out of that tree. He just sits there, all alone, and he can’t use his fucking hands and he won’t eat or sleep or…or…and he won’t listen to me, Mobius, I keep asking if he wants help and all he says is something like ‘no, darling, I chose this so you could all live your lives, it’s my burden blah-blah-blah’. You have to help me make him see reason!”

“He calls you darling?” Mobius asked, amused. “And you haven’t stabbed him yet?”

Sylvie rolled her eyes.

“Get serious, please,” she said.

“Ok, alright,” Mobius sighed. “But I think maybe I should talk to him alone. Would you mind opening a time-door for me? I mean, I can get back with a regular tempad, but to get there I’ll need help from yours.”

Sylvie nodded and swiped her wrist, opening the time-door.

“Please, Mobius,” She asked, pleading. “You work on convincing him, yeah? In the meantime I’ll go talk to O.B., see if he can work out a solution.”

“Sure thing,” Mobius said. “I’ll meet you there when I’m done,” he added, and went through the time-door.

*

As Sylvie stepped through the time-door into O.B.’s workshop, the first person she ran into was, of course, Casey.

“Gah!” he exclaimed, jumping backwards and dropping the stack of papers he was carrying.

“Hi, Casey,” Sylvie replied. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Casey breathed, still slightly shaking. “Sorry, you just startled me.”

“A time-door startled you?” Sylvie asked incredulously. “In the TVA?”

“It was unexpected, okay?” Casey said, indignant, while crouching down to try and retrieve his fallen papers. “People usually don’t do that down here.”

“Sorry,” Sylvie mumbled half-heartedly as she kneeled down to help him. “So, you work here now?”

“Yeah,” Casey said, smiling. “Figured it was better suited for my talents. Plus, I like it more, you know? Working with my hands. Besides, there’s lots of work now that we stopped pruning. Lots of different timelines to figure out.”

As they stood up, Casey’s load safely back in his hands, Sylvie took a look around. She raised her eyebrows in surprise. The room was still crowded with tubes, broken devices, spare parts, mysterious objects and random food stall signs; but it was also crowded with people.

“Who’s all this?” she asked, gesturing expansively at the coverall-clad men and women hustling and bustling about.

“Oh, we’ve expanded a little since you were last here,” Casey said, chuckling nervously. “Loads to do, right? And it turns out I wasn’t the only one who memorized the TVA guidebook, so we started getting transfer applications! It’s a good thing too. O.B. even gets to sleep now!”

“Wow,” Sylvie said dryly. “Really?”

“Sylvie!” a cheerful voice sounded from behind them. “Wow! What are you doing here?”

“Hi, O.B.,” Sylvie said, smiling despite herself. The short man came up to her, flashing his 10,000 megawatt grin. His TVA uniform looked a bit more worn than Sylvie remembered, but he did seem to be well rested. His skin was glowing. “I hear you get to sleep now.”

“Yes!” O.B. said cheerfully. “First time in 600 years! I even started dreaming again.”

“Anything interesting?” Sylvie asked.

“Well, last night I dreamed I was a pineapple who wanted to take over the world. I was running in the election, but I was edged from victory by a very determined guava.”

“Oh, no!” Sylvie said. “Who won?”

“Well, two days before the election I murdered the guava and buried it in the garden, so I did,” O.B. said casually. “But then a very angry guava tree grew up in the garden. The smell was horrible.”

“And?” Sylvie asked, perplexed. “How did it end?”

“I woke up,” O.B. said simply, shrugging. “So, what brings you down here? Did you break your record player again?”

Sylvie shook her head.

“So?” O.B. asked.

Sylvie took a deep breath. “I need your help,” she said.

“Sure,” O.B. said. “With what?”

“It’s Loki,” Sylvie said. “I want to find a way to get him out of that tree.”

*

When Mobius stepped out of the time door, Loki simply raised an eyebrow.

“Hi, Man,” Mobius said. “How are ya?”

“Sylvie put you up to this, didn’t she?” Loki asked simply.

“Yeah, so?” Mobius asked. “What difference does that make? I still get to see my favorite Loki again, isn’t it worth it?”

“Sylvie’s your favorite,” Loki muttered sulkily, but Mobius could see he wasn’t really upset.

“So?” Mobius asked again, stepping over some time branches and sitting down on the second chair. “How’s it going up here? How are you doing?”

“I’m good,” Loki lied, smiling unconvincingly. Mobius, remembering what Sylvie said, checked out his hands; they were clutching the timelines tightly, knuckles white with effort.

“That looks painful,” Mobius observed, and Loki shrugged.

“It’s what it takes,” he said, tilting his head to one side so that his horns shifted precariously. Mobius half-stood from his chair and adjusted them. Loki gave a half-hearted smile.

“Sylvie wants to get you out,” Mobius said.

“I know,” Loki sighed. “Unfortunately, that’s not possible. I tried to tell her that, but she refuses to believe me.”

“How do you know?” Mobius asked, “that it’s not possible? Maybe it is. Maybe there’s something you haven’t thought about.”

Loki shook his head. “There isn’t. I tried. I tried so many times to save everything. I tried to fix the loom and it turned out it was made to malfunction. I tried to stop her…killing him, and that was impossible. There was no stopping her, she was so determined…”

“Wait,” Mobius cut him off. “What are you talking about?”

Loki explained shortly about the time slipping and his centuries of attempts to make things work. Mobius listened attentively, finally understanding.

“I was wondering how you did it,” he said finally. “I mean, you went from being as lost as the rest of us to a magical time expert with no explanation. It didn’t make sense. I mean, when I was going out there everyone went on and on about me losing my skin (“that was just you”, said Loki) but when you did, the temporal energy didn’t even effect you! You didn’t even age! And then you grabbed the time branches with your bare hands (“I know, I was there,” said Loki) and you left and Sylvie started crying and we had no idea how you managed to do it!”

“She was crying?” Loki asked, sounding touched. Mobius ignored him.

“Now I finally get it! You spent centuries going back in time over and over again to try and fix the loom…and it never occurred to you to get help from any of us?”

“I couldn’t take you with me,” Loki said defensively. “Time-slipping isn’t like opening a time-door. I can only take myself. Plus, there was no time - ”

“Yeah, I get that,” Mobius said. “But didn’t you just say that you can stop time?”

“Yeah,” Loki said, “I can stop it, reverse it, slow it down, speed it up…”

“Why didn’t you, then?” Mobius asked, exasperated.

“What?”

“Before you went out there for the last time, why didn’t you just stop time and talk to us? We could’ve helped you. We could’ve, I don’t know, workshopped something. Instead you just went out there all alone, without protection, without explanation…”

“I did it for you!” Loki cut him off. “For all of you! It was the only way, Mobius. It was either I go, or everyone loses everything. So I chose to go. For you.”

“Well, that was stupid,” Mobius said.

“Hey!”

“Not that I don’t appreciate your noble sacrifice,” Mobius said quickly, “because I do, I really do. I just think that maybe if you’ve consulted us beforehand we could’ve figured something out, together.”

Loki said nothing. He seemed deep in thought.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said quietly, lowering his head and not looking at Mobius. “I…um. Traveling through time, for as long as I have, living the same moments over and over again…it makes everyone else a little unreal. Like background noise. There wasn’t much time for meaningful conversation, until the end. When I came back to talk to you, and then Sylvie. I wanted to do it on my own because I wanted you to have a chance to live. You deserve it. You all do.”

“And you don’t?” Mobius asked softly.

Loki’s head was still lowered, but Mobius could see tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Loki?”

Loki shook his head.

“I don’t,” he choked out finally.

“Why not?”

Loki said nothing.

“Come on, Loki. Why not?”

Loki took a deep, shaky breath, and finally looked at Mobius. His cheeks were red with tears.

“Because I…I hurt everyone who ever loved me. I betrayed everyone. I betrayed Thor, my father, my mother, everyone who ever called themselves my friend…all for a throne. This throne. I could never get it as long as I wanted it, but as soon as I found something better, well…”

He let out a bitter laugh.

“This,“ he gestured all around him with his head, “is my punishment. This is my burden. This is my glorious purpose. It’s what I deserve.”

“For all time?” Mobius asked quietly.

Loki shrugged.

“That’s bullshit,” Mobius said.

Loki shook his head.

“It is,” Mobius insisted. “Yes, you’ve done some terrible, awful things, and you haven’t been the most reliable, but so what? We all did terrible things, each and every one of us. Do you have any idea how many people I killed? B-15? Sylvie?”

“That’s different,” Loki said, “none of you had a choice. I did. I knew what I was doing was wrong, and I did it anyway. For power.”

“For love,” Mobius said, smiling. “It was never really about power for you. Don’t argue with me, I’m the Loki expert, remember? You never actually wanted a throne, you just wanted to be accepted and loved. I just wanted to preserve the sacred timeline. Sylvie just wanted to be free. We each had our reasons to commit atrocities, but it doesn’t really make it better, does it?”

“Well, you don’t have to do them anymore,” Loki said. “The timelines are free, remember? So you can all live your lives in peace.”

“But we can’t,” Mobius argued, “because you’re not free. How can you expect us to live in peace, knowing the price you have to pay for it? Who do you think you are? Jesus?”

“Who?”

Mobius huffed.

“The point is, you don’t get to sacrifice yourself for the good of everyone and expect us to just…take it. Because as long as you’re stuck up here, none of us can truly be free. Especially not me, with Sylvie breathing down my neck like that,” he added, and Loki let out a small laugh.

“She is tenacious,” he admitted, admiration in his voice.

“Very,” Mobius agreed,” and she won’t let it go until you agree. So, sorry to break it to you, bud, but you don’t really have a choice.”

Loki shook his head, smiling.

“She’s already talking to O.B., isn’t she?” he asked, resigned.

“Yeah,” Mobius said. “This was really just a courtesy visit. Letting you know, I guess. We’re getting you out of the tree, Loki. Get used to it.”

Despite himself, Loki smiled.

“I missed you, friend,” he admitted finally.

“Missed you too, bud,” Mobius said. “It’s really not the same without you.”

*

“So you’re telling me that Loki spent literal centuries learning everything he needed to know about time so he could manipulate the branches into a tree?” O.B. said, after listening attentively to Sylvie’s story.

“I mean, I don’t think the tree part was actually planned…” Sylvie tried to protest weakly.

“And now you want to get Loki out of the tree,” O.B. cut her off.

“Yeah,” Sylvie said, shrugging. “Can you do it?”

“Yes,” said O.B., “and no.”

Sylvie gave him a perplexed look.

“Which is it?” she asked, “yes or no?”

“According to your story, Loki used both science and magic to create the tree, right?” O.B. asked.

“I think so,” Sylvie said. “There’s definitely magic holding it together now, yes.”

“Which is why Loki can’t leave, right?” O.B. continued. “He must stay put because the branches only survive as long as he keeps imbuing them with magic.”

“That’s right,” Sylvie said.

“Ok, so in order for him to be able to leave the tree, we must establish a mechanism to take his place,” O.B. said. “Something that uses both science and magic, because otherwise the branches die and the entire multiverse turns to spaghetti, right?”

“Uh, yes?” Sylvie asked uncertainly.

“That’s a problem,” O.B. said.

“Why?” Sylvie asked.

“You see, I can build a machine to support the branches and infuse them with whatever it is they need to survive,” O.B. explained, “but I would need magic to power it. Really strong magic. Time bending magic.”

“And?” Sylvie asked.

“And where am I supposed to get that?” O.B. asked. “Loki is the only one who knows how to do it!”

“So, we ask Loki to supply the magic,” Sylvie suggested.

“We can’t,” O.B. said.

“Why not? He’s already there, powering the thing,” Sylvie said.

“Exactly,” O.B. said. “I need him to power the tree up until the moment the machine is functional. I can’t have him stop to charge the machine and risk the whole multiverse dying if anything goes wrong. The magic would need to come from someone else.”

“Oh,” Sylvie said weakly.

“I don’t know any magic users,” O.B. said casually. “I mean, magic doesn’t even work in the TVA usually so I never got to know much about it. I’m not even sure how it works!”

“Does anyone know how it works?” Sylvie asked. “It’s magic. It just works.”

“No, it must have some rules,” O.B. said. “People do learn to use it, after all, don’t they? There must be a theory behind it.”

Sylvie frowned. She was suddenly very aware of how little she actually knew. Magic had always come instinctively to her. She never spared it much thought beyond however it could serve her in the moment.

Loki would probably know tons of magic theory. Show-off.

“So we find a magic expert,” said Casey, who up until that moment was listening quietly.

“What?” Sylvie asked.

“A magic expert. Someone who knows magic theory backwards and forwards, and could help us power the Loki machine,” Casey said.

“The Loki machine?” Sylvie asked weakly.

“That’s a great idea!” Said O.B excitedly, just as a time door opened beside them, out of which skipped Mobius.

“What did I miss?” he asked.

“Did you convince him?” Sylvie replied.

“More or less,” Mobius said. Sylvie gave him a doubtful look, and he shrugged. “I told him we’re doing it whether he agrees or not. He’s a bit sulky about it, but he’ll come around.”

Sylvie nodded shortly.

“Mobius, do you know any magic experts?” O.B. asked.

“Actually, I might know one,” Sylvie said.

“You do?” Mobius asked. “Who?”

Chapter Text

Dr. Strange stared at Sylvie, dumbfounded. By now, he had thought he’d seen it all. Well, most. After all, he had fought demons, aliens, an all-powerful witch and even variants of himself. He possessed a dead body and wore some angry souls as a cloak. What he never thought he’d hear, though, was that the multiverse was being held, quite literally, in the hands of a Loki variant.

“You don’t believe me,” Sylvie said, eyes narrowed. She crossed her arms and huffed, annoyed. Strange, having only met Loki very briefly, had no idea if this was typical Loki behavior.

“Your story is hard to believe,” He admitted. “You show up at the sanctum out of nowhere, months after I sent you off with Thor, to tell me that not only Loki is alive, you want my help to set him free?”

“Yeah,” Sylvie said, “and?”

“And…no! No. You know what, I don’t believe you. You should go home now. Goodbye.”

With a wave of his hand, he opened a portal to New-Asgard. A couple of very startled goats stared at him through it. One bleated.

Sylvie growled.

“I can show him to you if you like,” she said icily and, with a swipe on her wrist, opened one of her rectangular portals behind her.

“Why would I trust you?” he asked. “It could be a trap.”

“You’re right,” she said shortly. “It could be. Why does that matter? I thought you were a powerful wizard.”

“Yeah,” Strange agreed, “but my greatest power is my brain; and it’s telling me not to trust you.”

“Smart,” Sylvie commented dryly. “Aren’t you even a little bit curious?”

He was, but he wasn’t going to admit it.

“Alright then,” Sylvie sighed, and closed her portal. “Why don’t we get Thor to come with us? You must at least trust him.”

Strange considered this.

“Alright,” he conceded eventually, and opened a portal into Thor’s cottage. A second later, Thor’s blond head came peeking through.

“Wizard!” he bellowed. “What a surprise! And with Sylvie, too. What are you doing here, sister?”

Sylvie smiled. It was hard to stay mad in the presence of Thor.

“I was trying to get him to help Loki with his tree situation,” she explained, “but he doesn’t think it’s worth his while.”

At this, Thor frowned. He crossed the portal into the sanctum, calling Mjolnir into his hand and looking a lot more intimidating than he did a second ago.

“You do not think helping my brother is a good use of your time, wizard?”

“No, it’s not that,” Strange said, hiding his alarm behind bravado, “it’s just that her story was…well…”

Thor and Sylvie exchanged looks.

“I mean, I don’t blame him,” Thor said. “I wouldn’t have believed it either, if I were him.”

“I know,” Sylvie sighed, “but we don’t have time for this. Every minute we spend here chatting is another minute Loki is stuck in that tree.”

“Let’s show him,” Thor told Sylvie, who nodded and opened her portal again. “After you,” Thor said.

Sylvie passed through the door first, followed by Thor. Strange considered skipping the invitation, but his curiosity got the better of him. He crossed the unusual portal into the unknown. What he saw in front of him was nothing short of magnificent. They stood a little distance away from the tree, all glowing and buzzing with the green energy of time. Strange, once a carrier of the Time Stone, recognized it at once. He took a deep breath, awed. The energy seemed to be stronger at the heart of the tree, where the green light shone brightest. Far above their heads they could hear the branches expanding and growing, crackling softly. Over there they shone with purples, pinks and blues. Below their feet, the branches of time were a dark green, sometimes brown.

Strange had never seen something so beautiful.

“Why did you bring us all the way out here, sister?” Thor asked.

Sylvie shrugged.

“I wanted him to see it properly,” she said quietly.

Strange looked at her, new respect in his eyes.

“And you’re telling me that Loki did all of this?” he asked, incredulous.

“He’s not the Loki you remember,” Thor said, shaking his head. “This Loki…this one’s different.”

“Different how?” Strange asked, not missing the small, wistful smile that crossed Sylvie’s face. Thor gave her a cautious look.

“He’s…good,” he said finally. Sylvie did not look at him. She was looking at the tree, solemn, the beautiful colors reflecting on her face. Her eyes were suspiciously shiny. She blinked a few times and took a deep breath, apparently centering herself.

“Would you like to meet him?” She asked Strange, who could only nod in reply.

“Was hoping you’d say that,” she said, and opened a second portal. This time, passing through it, they reached the center of the tree. Here the space was much narrower, especially between the three of them. When Strange’s vision finally cleared, he found Sylvie leaning in front of a golden throne, talking softly to a horned figure. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it sounded like a whispered argument. The figure, partly hidden from view by Thor’s large frame, was dressed in soft, green robes. His hands, Strange could see, were indeed clutching the branches of time, white with effort.

“I said no, Sylvie,” he could hear an urgent whisper.

“I don’t care, Loki,” she replied with the same urgency, “I’m getting you out. At least I’m trying too. Please, let me.”

“Yeah, let her, brother,” Thor said and, since he wasn’t whispering, his voice sounded extra loud in the quiet space. “At least talk to the wizard. After all, it’s impolite to turn down a caller,” he added jovially.

“Do you think I’m still bound by court etiquette, brother?” Loki asked, amused.

“I think mother would be very disappointed if you weren’t,” Thor answered lightly.

Loki said nothing. Finally, Thor moved aside and let Strange see him properly for the first time. He was the same man Strange met briefly all those years ago: the same unruly black curls, the same pale skin and light blue eyes. And yet, he was completely different. It was the look on his face, Strange realized. There was no bravado in it, no mischief or spite; he seemed kind, and sad, and tired. He seemed wise, old beyond his years. He gave Thor a look that was all fond exasperation.

Sylvie, now leaning casually on his chair, looked like she belonged nowhere but by his side. Her small palm was wrapped around one of his pained looking hands, and she was flowing magic into it, probably to ease his pain. Her magic was green too. Strange wasn’t sure why it surprised him.

“Hello,” Loki said softly. “I’m sorry my brother and my…variant dragged you out here like this.”

“I’m not,” Strange said. “This is…incredible. It’s…how do you do it?”

Loki blinked.

“Do what?”

“This,” Strange said, gesturing generously around him. “I mean, I used to carry the time stone, but even then I don’t think I would have been able to command all this. Are you controlling all of time?”

Loki shook his head, his horns tilting dangerously to the side. Sylvie fixed them absentmindedly.

“I’m not controlling anything,” Loki said. “I am simply…keeping it alive. I make sure it exists, but the people on the timelines may do as they please. I do not intervene. You know,” he said, smiling fondly at Sylvie, “free will and all that.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but smiled an indulgent little smile nonetheless. Even in the dim light Strange could see that her cheeks were turning pink.

“Do you even want to leave?” Strange asked.

“Yes,” Sylvie said.

“No,” Loki said at the same time.

They exchanged looks.

“We’ve been through this,” she said firmly.

“Yes,” he agreed, “and I told you that I need to stay here.”

“O.B. is already working on a device,” Sylvie said cryptically.

Who’s O.B.?

“I don’t trust a device to do this,” Loki said. “You saw what happened with the last one.”

“That was different,” Sylvie argued, “that one was designed to destroy the branches. This one will protect them.”

“I protect them,” Loki said through clenched teeth.

“And what if something happened to you, brother?” Thor asked. “Who protects you?”

“She does,” Loki said, tilting his head in Sylvie’s direction. She fixed his horns again.

“You wish,” she huffed, rolling her eyes.

“What do you even need from me?” Strange asked Sylvie. “What can I do to help?”

“Well, we need an expert in magic,” Sylvie said. “Time-magic.”

“I’m an expert in time-magic,” Loki said, annoyed.

“Yes, and you’re stuck here so you can’t help,” she snapped.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, clearly searching for a reply.

Inexplicably, her eyes turned soft.

“Loki…”

He shook his head.

“Don’t.”

“Should I send Mobius again?” Sylvie asked quietly.

“No,” Loki shook his head, looking down. “No, Sylvie. It’s ok. Go, build your device.”

“Are you sure?” she asked gently.

“Not at all,” he replied, “but I learned long ago that when you set your mind on something, there’s no stopping you.”

“Correct,” she said seriously, and let go of his hand. He took a deep breath and sighed. He wasn’t looking at her.

“I’ll see you later then,” Loki said quietly.

“Later, brother,” Thor said. As the three of them left through the time door, Strange looked back at the lonely throne. Loki’s head was still bowed, and his shoulders were shaking with silent sobs.

*

“So what am I looking at again?” Strange asked the excitable man Sylvie had introduces as O.B. He was a peculiar character, filled to the brim with joyful energy. Genius, no doubt, just like himself, Strange thought. He could respect that.

“Well,” O.B. started, gesturing at the funny looking machine he had built, “in theory, this device will support the time branches in Loki’s stead, enabling him to leave the tree.”

“In theory?”

“Well, it’s all very experimental. You see, right now the entire multiverse is supported by Loki. In order to keep the branches alive, he must keep hold of them, constantly imbuing them with magic.”

“Yes, that part I gathered,” Strange said.

“This device is supposed to create a closed feedback loop, where the branches feed off each other’s temporal energy, making a closed, sustainable system that does not require any external input.”

“You mean it’s a battery?” Strange asked dryly.

“Not exactly,” O.B. said. “It’s a conductor, channeling all the extra temporal energy created by the tree to feed the new growing branches.”

“O.K.,” Strange nodded, his eyebrows furrowed, “and what do you need from me?”

“Magic,” O.B. said simply.

“Excuse me?”

“You are a magic expert, aren’t you?” O.B. asked.

“Master of the mystic arts,” Strange corrected absentmindedly.

“Wizard,” Thor said cheerfully. Strange glared at him and he smiled, shrugging innocently. Sylvie sniggered.

“Mobius looked you up,” She said. “You are familiar with time manipulation, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Strange admitted, “But…”

“So that’s what we need,” O.B. cut him off. “My machine will need magic to operate, and I have no idea how any of that works.”

“I mean, where do you even learn about time magic?” asked O.B.’s assistant, a guy who’s name Strange couldn’t remember at the moment.

“The book of Caglioso,” Strange supplied helpfully.

“Great,” Sylvie said, “Where do we get that?”

“No need,” Strange said importantly, pulling himself to his full height, “I’ve got it memorized.”

“Great!” O.B. said. “That should save some time.”

“The sooner we get Loki out of the tree, the better,” Sylvie said. “He could use a vacation after this, probably.”

“Yes!” said the one they called Mobius, who’d just walked in carrying a paper cup full of hot cocoa. “We can go fishing, snorkeling, maybe take a few spins on a jet-ski…”

“Or you could come to New-Asgard instead,” Thor suggested defiantly.

“Oh, come on,” Mobius looked at him, laughing. “You can’t expect us to go to Norway when there’s a tropical vacation on the line.”

“Who said anything about tropical?” Thor asked.

“As long as he stays away from New-York, I’m fine,” Strange said.

“We’ll go wherever Loki wants to go,” Sylvie said with an air of finality.

“I’ll tell B-15,” Mobius said. “I bet she could use a vacation too.”

“Who’s B-15?” Thor asked, confused.

“Great!” O.B. said again, clapping his hands once. Everyone turned to him, startled. “Dr. Strange, when can you start to work your magic?”

“One problem,” Strange said.

“What?” asked O.B.’s assistant. Casey, that was his name.

“I only know how to manipulate time using the time-stone,” Strange explained, “and seeing as it was destroyed, I don’t know how I’m supposed to help you.”

“Oh, that’s not a problem,” Casey said airily. “I have a drawer full of infinity stones upstairs.”

“What?” Strange couldn’t believe his ears.

“Yeah,” Casey said, grinning from ear to ear. “We used to get a lot of them back here. They make great paperweights.”

Chapter Text

Following their conversation, Thor left the TVA and went back home to take care of Love, and Casey took Strange to get a couple of time-stones from his old desk drawer. Unfortunately, they soon came upon another problem: with the dampeners on, Strange couldn’t access his magic. When O.B. asked B-15 to turn them off, she flat out refused.

“I’m not going to let you guys temper with time-altering magic in here,” she warned. “It might damage the TVA.”

“What do you guys do, anyway?” Strange asked dismissively.

“We protect all realities from threats,” B-15 explained calmly. “Incursions, universe conquering beings, dangerous universe breaking magic spells…” she gave Strange a pointed look.

“That one wasn’t my fault,” Strange tried to deflect.

“Sure,” she said dryly.

Strange sighed.

“Okay, okay, point taken,” he surrendered. “I can take you guys to Kamar Taj. We’ll grab a few more books from the library, hop into the mirror dimension and we can experiment without endangering reality.”

“Excellent idea,” B-15 said approvingly. “Miss minutes?”

“Hi y’all!”

A creepy orange clock appeared out of nowhere, floating next to her head. It looked like a cross between a cutesy anime character and someone’s worst nightmare. She smiled sweetly at Strange, who had jumped about a foot in the air in alarm. Looking around him, he realized no one else was perturbed in the least (except maybe Sylvie, who gave the clock a murderous glare).

“Miss Minutes, will you take these guys to Dr. Strange’s Kamar Taj in the Dr.’s present time? And be available to them if they need anything,” B-15 said.

“Yes ma’am,” the clock said politely, and a time door opened next to her. “Just through there,” she said cheerfully.

“Can we trust her?” he heard Sylvie whisper to B-15.

“Didn’t have any problems since the reset,” B-15 whispered back.

“Well I’m not going with her anywhere,” Sylvie said, scowling. “I’ll go check on Loki instead.”

“Sylvie, we’ll need you with us,” Strange stopped her.

She tensed, apprehensive.

“Why?”

“Your magic signature will be identical to Loki’s, won’t it?”

“Not quite,” Sylvie said, “but very close, yes.”

“Then I’ll need you there in case we need a very close fit,” Strange explained. “Since Loki is unavailable, and I really don’t feel like bringing in another Loki – “

(“Wise choice”, B-15 remarked.)

“- then you are the best we have.”

Sylvie sighed.

“Fine,” she growled.

“I’ll go check on Loki,” Mobius volunteered.

“Thanks, Mobius,” Sylvie said, opening a time-door for him.

“Don’t mention it,” he gave a dismissive hand wave her way, smiled, and was gone.

“Come on,” she told the others, already looking exasperated, “let’s get this over with.”

*

“So who is this Mobius guy, anyway?” Strange asked Sylvie, while O.B. and Casey were setting up their time-conductor inside the mirror dimension.

“A friend,” Sylvie said. Seeing Strange’s questioning gaze, she smiled a little and continued: “He used to work as an analyst for the TVA. He was the one who saved Loki’s life. They were about to prune him, but Mobius convinced them not to.”

“Why?”

“He needed his help to catch a dangerous Loki Variant,” Casey interjected from his spot on the floor, “one that has been evading the TVA for years.”

“Another Loki?” Strange asked. “How many of you guys are there?”

Sylvie snorted.

“A lot, apparently. We are the gods of chaos, you know.”

“I thought you were the gods of mischief.”

She shrugged.

“Mischief, chaos, mayhem, fun…”

“Okaaay…” Strange said. “So did they catch him?”

“Who?”

“The Loki variant,” Strange explained. “The one they were looking for.”

“They found me,” Sylvie said haughtily, “but they didn’t catch me.”

“You?!”

“Don’t look so surprised, Dr.,” Sylvie said. “I had to meet Loki somehow.”

“While he was trying to bring you in?” Strange asked, perplexed.

Sylvie smiled, but she looked wistful all of a sudden.

“Well, he didn’t,” she said softly, “and now…here we are.”

Strange tilted his head, giving her a pointed look.

“What’s it even called, when you fall for yourself?” he asked.

Sylvie blushed, but only shrugged in reply.

Strange shook his head, disgusted.

“Well that’s just…”

“Oh, shut up,” she cut him off. “Didn’t need your opinion.”

“Well I think it’s cute,” Casey said. “I’m rooting for you guys.”

“Thanks, Casey,” Sylvie said, looking exceptionally embarrassed.

“But aren’t they…” Strange asked, not knowing how to continue.

“Not necessarily,” O.B. interjected. “Variants have the same role in the story. They have identical temporal auras, but they don’t have to be related.”

“Yeah,” Sylvie said, “I mean, I met a Loki who’s an alligator, once.”

“An alligator?!”

“Yeah. Besides, it’s none of your business,” Sylvie said defiantly. “So get your head out of the gutter and go do some magic or something.”

“Ok, ok,” Strange yielded.

“Jeez,” Sylvie said under her breath.

“Totally,” Casey agreed. “Just ship and let ship, man,” he added.

“Point taken,” Strange said, and went to work on his time feeding spell.

*

Loki was scouring the timelines in search of some interesting occurrence to focus on, when the sound of a time door permeated his consciousness. He looked up to see Mobius, standing there smiling at him like people met at the end of time every day.

Well, sometimes they do.

“Hi,” Mobius said. “Is this a bad time?”

Loki smiled and shook his head. He gave the time branches a gentle tug to get them off the second chair. They were growing thicker and faster all the time, and it was all he could do not to get swallowed by them, himself. He also felt the burden growing, having to supply life to an exponentially expanding multiverse. For the first time, it occurred to him that maybe Sylvie and the others were right. There was a chance that he couldn’t do this forever, and if his energy ran out, what will be of all the lives in the multiverse?

“Sit, my friend,” he said when the chair was revealed.

“Thanks, buddy,” Mobius said, sitting down with a satisfied sigh.

“So, what brings you around this time?” Loki asked.

“Nothing in particular,” Mobius said. “The guys and the wizard are working on a device to relieve you of your…position. They have no use for me right now, so I thought I’d come keep you company.”

“I appreciate it,” Loki said. “It does get rather lonely out here. Although lately it’s been as busy as the Bifrost during school holidays.”

Mobius snorted.

“Is that busy?”

“Well, it used to be,” Loki said, a little melancholy now. “I guess it doesn’t exist anymore.”

“I mean, it probably does somewhere,” Mobius pointed out, gesturing at all the glowing time branches.

“Oh, it does,” Loki said, “but in most cases, if my brother and my variant fail to bring about Ragnarok, Hela takes over and uses it to conquer the universe.”

He grimaced.

“It’s not pretty.”

“I bet it isn’t,” Mobius agreed. “Does that…do you ever want to, you know…intervene?”

Loki laughed.

“Oh, yes, all the time,” he admitted. “It is tempting, you know. To help people, to save them from themselves.”

“But you don’t?” Mobius asked carefully.

Loki shook his head.

“You see, I have this goddess in my ear that convinced me of the necessity of free will,” he said, smiling fondly. “I’d hate to disappoint her.”

“Well, she’d probably stab you if you did,” Mobius said.

“No, she won’t,” Loki disagreed, “but she will give me hell for it.”

“How can you be so sure?” Mobius asked. “That she won’t stab you, I mean.”

Loki gave him a reproachful look.

“Because that’s not what we do,” he explained.

“What, don’t try to kill each other?”

“Exactly,” Loki said. “We disagree…a lot. We fight occasionally. Swords may be drawn, and all that. But we will never hurt each other.” He lowered his eyes, frowning. “Well, at least not physically.”

Mobius gave him a thoughtful look.

“I have to tell you,” he said, “that this is the strangest relationship I’ve ever come across.”

“Oh, I know,” Loki said airily. “Sick and twisted, you once said.”

Mobius grimaced.

“I did say that, didn’t I?”

Loki nodded.

“I’m sorry.”

“Well, you were trying to interrogate me at the time. I mean, that wasn’t half as bad as being kicked in the nether region by an old flame about four thousand times.”

Mobius winced, sympathetic. “I forgot about that. Sorry, man.”

Loki glared at him.

“What, I said I’m sorry!”

“Oh, you did me a favor,” Loki said. “It helped me get my head on straight, at least. Anyway, lesson learned. I’d never try to prank Sylvie like that. Frankly, she’d do a lot worse than clock me in the crotch if I did.”

“Oh, yeah, don’t,” Mobius agreed wholeheartedly. For a while, both men sat in companionable silence, each picturing the horrors that would await anyone who tried to cross Sylvie. After a while, Loki’s mind started drifting off. Out of habit, he peered into the timeline. Lately he began checking in of Thor, which he avoided until that day Sylvie first brought him over.

“It’s time for bed, Love,” Thor was telling his daughter, who was playing some sort of game on her tablet.

“Five more minutes,” Love requested.

“Now,” Thor said. “And you also need to take a shower, it’s about time we brushed your hair.”

“I like it like this,” Love said, still busy with the screen.

“Like what, dirty and tangled?” Thor asked.

“Yeah,” Love answered defiantly.

“No you don’t,” Thor said.

“Yes I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

She turned to him.

“Yes. I. Do.”

“No you don’t!”

“Go to hell, demon!” Love yelled, shooting lasers out of her eyes. Thor just managed to jump out of the way, and the coat hanger behind him caught fire.

“Oh, not again,” he said, exasperated, and grabbed a fire extinguisher with the air of a man who would really like a break.

“I’m sorry, Uncle Thor,” Love said in a much smaller, calmer voice.

“It’s ok, it happens,” Thor shrugged. “Now, please go take a shower.”

“OK!” said the girl cheerfully, turned off her game and skipped away.

“What’s so funny?” Mobius asked.

“Nothing,” Loki shook his head. “Thor’s little girl…she’s something, that’s all.”

“Why, what happened?” Mobius asked, intrigued.

Loki told him, and Mobius laughed.

“You know, she kinda reminds me of someone,” he said.

Loki rolled his eyes, “please.”

“Still, you have to admit Thor had a lifetime of practice to prepare him for raising her.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Loki chuckled, shrugging slightly. They sank into silence again, and Loki spent a few minutes looking at a mother as she was putting her baby to sleep. She was singing softly, swaying the baby gently in her arms. She reminded him a little of Sylvie, if she’d been allowed to grow up to be anything but angry and hurt. If she’d ever been allowed to be happy.

“So…are you coming around to the idea of getting out of here?” Mobius asked carefully.

“What?” Loki asked, coming out of his reverie with some difficulty.

“Getting out of here,” Mobius repeated.

“Oh,” Loki said, looking around him thoughtfully. “I’m…considering it,” he finally admitted.

“Great,” Mobius sounded genuinely relieved. “May I ask, what made you change your mind?”

“The tree is growing all the time,” Loki explained. “If I’m the only thing that’s keeping it alive and it outgrows my capabilities, then…”

Mobius nodded.

“You know, you told me once that purpose was more burden than glory,” he told Mobius, who frowned.

“I said that?” Mobius asked, surprised. “When?”

“Oh, you won’t remember. It was during my time-slipping, when I was trying to find a way out of He Who Remains’ plan. You know, without killing Sylvie,” he added. “I went back to our first interview and asked you for advice. You said that you just choose your burden,” Loki explained.

“Wow,” Mobius said. “That’s rather poetic of me.”

“Yeah,” Loki smiled. “It was. But it’s also true. It was good advice.”

“Did you go to anyone else?” Mobius asked. “Your mother? Your father maybe?”

Loki shook his head. “Just Sylvie,” he said absentmindedly.

“Really? And what did she say?” Mobius asked, intrigued.

“That growing up in apocalypses taught her that sometimes it’s ok to destroy something,” Loki said.

“What? What does that mean?!”

Loki tilted his head.

“That the sacred timeline isn’t good enough to justify erasing all other realities in order to preserve it,” he explained. “That all she saw her entire life was people suffering and dying, and opening up the multiverse would give these people a chance at life.”

“Wow,” Mobius said again. “That’s…deep.”

Loki shrugged.

“That’s Sylvie,” he said simply.

“You know, I am sorry,” Mobius admitted, “for my part in Sylvie’s life being what they were.”

“It had to be that way,” Loki said. “Otherwise she wouldn’t be Sylvie. She’d just be another Loki…another jealous, vindictive, entitled Loki.”

“I guess that’s true,” Mobius mused. “Still, her life was hell.”

“Well, it seems to be going better now,” Loki said. “So there’s that.”

“There is that,” Mobius agreed.

“I hope I don’t disappoint her, once I’m out of here,” Loki admitted.

“Please,” Mobius sniggered. “You literally bent all of time just so she could do whatever the hell she wants with her life. How can you ever disappoint her after that?”

Loki grinned.

“Well, if you put it like that…”

Chapter Text

Sylvie paced from side to side of the room, restless. She was bored out of her mind. O.B. and Casey were still perfecting their Loki-machine and the Wizard was sitting down, scouring through an ever growing pile of books. She had nothing to do here. Oh, she found some ways to pass the time, at first. She polished her sword. She tried reading the books, only to give up after realizing they were in Sanskrit. She conjured small, quiet fireworks out of her hand, staring at them in melancholy. That last one got the attention of all the man in the room.

“Wow,” O.B. said.

“Cool,” said Casey.

“Nice trick,” said Strange. “Who taught you that?”

“Loki,” she answered shortly, and closed her palm.

“You guys really had some adventures, huh?” Casey asked, longing in his voice. She imagined a lifetime of servitude in the TVA would drive anybody restless. If not insane.

“A few,” she said. In fact, they didn’t have much time to get to know each other at all. They were almost always in mortal peril, first on Lamentis and then in the void. By the time he came to find her in McDonald’s things had already soured between them and she was too mad to let him in.

How much time I wasted, she thought bitterly.

“Anyway, are you guys getting any closer?” she asked, briskly changing the subject. “I’m getting kind of sick of being here with nothing to do.”

“We’re almost done,” O.B. promised.

“Same here,” Strange said, closing the book in his hand with a bang. “Just need your magic signature, and then you’re free to go.”

“Great,” Sylvie jumped to her feet, “what do you need from me, exactly?”

Strange smirked. He, too, jumped to his feet, moving his hands in an intricate way. Circles of symbols appeared around his hands, glowing with a golden light.

“Do those fireworks again,” he asked.

Sylvie spread her palm, shooting fireworks into the air again. This time she added small whistles and bangs to accompany the colorful explosions. But now they didn’t stay above her hand: Strange’s magic symbols moved out from his hands, encaging her fireworks in them. When the fireworks dissolved the green magical energy remained. Strange then produced a box out of thin air and closed her magic inside it.

“Thanks,” he said airily.

“What did you do?” Sylvie asked suspiciously.

“Oh, don’t worry. You magic is intact,” The Dr. said dismissively. “I just kept enough of it to get the signature. I’ll use it later when it’s time to load the...whatever it is you guys are building,” he told O.B. and Casey.

“We call it the Multiversal-multi-branch—temporal-feedback-loop-inter-conductor,” O.B. said.

“Catchy,” Sylvie said dryly.

“How about ‘Temporal-Conductor’?” Casey suggested.

O.B. stared at him, perplexed.

“I like it!” he declared eventually, and Casey beamed.

Strange looked at Sylvie, who shrugged.

“O.k.,” she said, “if you guys don’t need me anymore, I think I’ll head out.”

“Say hi to Loki,” Casey asked, and she nodded and left quickly, before they ask her for anything else.

*

“Where’s Mobius?” she asked Loki, once at the tree.

“You just missed him,” Loki said. “He left a few minutes ago.”

“Where did he go?” Sylvie asked conversationally, flopping down in her chair.

“To get a snack, he said,” Loki explained, smiling softly at her. She resisted the urge to smile back at him, and instead arched her eyebrow.

“What about you?” Loki asked, not even slightly offended. If anything, he seemed thrilled to be at the receiving end of her murder stare.

“What do you mean?”

“It must be the middle of the night for you,” Loki explained. “Aren’t you tired?”

“No,” Sylvie lied, even though she got the feeling he could see right through her.

There were silent for a few minutes, staring at each other until Loki broke eye contact.

“I liked your fireworks,” he said suddenly.

“Um, thanks,” Sylvie said, blushing slightly. “I didn’t know you were looking.”

“I just caught that bit,” Loki said. “So, um…”

“Yes?”

“Ah…how many things did you pick up in my head, exactly?” Loki asked, a sense of urgency in his voice.

“What?” Sylvie blinked, confused.

“In the void, when you taught me how to enchant,” Loki explained, “did you somehow pick up all my magic skills? Because you turned into a magic expert remarkably fast after that.”

“Oh,” Sylvie shifted in her seat, uncomfortable. “I don’t know, exactly,” she admitted. “It all happened so quickly, didn’t it?”

“I guess so,” Loki said, full of thought.

“I mean, I learned things from people before, but never like this,” Sylvie admitted. “It was usually more second hand knowledge, like something you read in a book. Sometimes I’d get the theoretical knowledge, but it wasn’t something I could act on, you know?”

He gave a nod, encouraging her to continue.

“With you, though…with you, it was different. Not like enchantment, where I take over a mind…with you, it was like our minds actually joined. It was…I don’t know. You felt it too, didn’t you?”

Loki nodded. Of course he did.

“After that, well…the knowledge was simply there, in my head, perfectly intact from start to finish. I have no idea how, or why. I don’t actually have all your memories, Loki…but I guess I somehow picked up your skills.”

“Oh, I picked up some things from you, too,” Loki reassured her.

“Like what?”

“Well, obviously enchantment, even though it’s not my favorite magic…but I also throw knives much better now.”

Sylvie snorted.

“Sure you do,” she said.

“Well, I did,” Loki said seriously, tilting his head towards his right hand.

Sylvie pouted sympathetically.

“But, but, I also picked up German, and how to drive a Midgardian vehicle, and Pellusian rat curing which let me tell you, I never thought I’d ever need to know.”

“Oh, you have to cure it properly,” Sylvie interjected, “the outer layer’s poisonous but the entrails are rather good over a fire.”

Loki stared at her.

“Anyway,” he said after a while, “it could be a variant thing. Maybe we have the same brain, or something.”

Sylvie scoffed.

“We do not have the same brain, Loki.”

Loki smiled sheepishly.

“I suppose we don’t,” he said. “Where did you…when did you learn how to cure a Pellusian rat?”

“That’s a long story,” Sylvie said. “I was in Pellusa in 3021, just before a wave of energy from a faraway supernova made the planet uninhabitable for 300 years. The people all left before I got there, and rats were the only things left alive by then. Very resilient little things.”

Loki winced.

“I keep forgetting how difficult your life must have been,” he admitted.

“Can’t you just see it on the timeline?” she asked, gesturing around the mutiverse.

To her surprise, Loki shook his head.

“You are rather tricky to find, you know,” he said.

“How come?”

“Well, for a thousand years you kept jumping from universe to universe on the timeline, always into the most chaotic moments, never staying anywhere for more than twelve hours. In the grand scheme of things, even with all of the past, present and future before me, your childhood stays invisible.”

“Oh,” Sylvie said. “I never thought about it that way.”

Loki gave her that disconcerting look, like he had little hearts in his eyes. He first looked at her that way in Lamentis, when he had been ‘very full’. She didn’t know what to do with herself then, and she still didn’t now. Her knees threatened to turn to jelly, which her brain supplied was a stupid reaction. She tried to ignore it, in vain.

“I…could show you, if you like,” she said carefully.

Loki’s eyebrows rose.

“How?”

“I could enchant you?” she suggested. “Or you could enchant me?”

“How about we enchant each other?” he suggested. She nodded and, her heart beating loudly in her chest, reached out gingerly to touch his arm.

*

Hot.

The place was scorching hot and almost devoid of life. The sky, once a soft shade of blue, were now a dirty yellow hue. A few hundred meters away she could see the remnants of the city, barely visible through the dusty, dirty air.

Sylvie coughed.

She didn’t like coming here, to this particular apocalypse. It wasn’t interesting like Titan or safe like Roxxcart. In fact, there was nothing here. No water, hardly any shelter. Some food, if you knew where to look.

She only came here for one reason: since the planet had long since been deserted, she could spend more time here than she usually would. Whenever she grew tired of hopping to a new place every half a day, she would come here. In the vast, ruined city, there were places to stay that she already knew. There was a big warehouse where they used to store furniture, some of which was abandoned when everyone left. There was a couch in it that she particularly liked, soft and only slightly smelling of mildew. This is where Sylvie came when she was particularly exhausted, drawn in by the appeal of a long, uninterrupted nap. When she reached the warehouse she went straight to the couch and collapsed on it, sighing in relief. She had been a little sick lately, and desperately needed to rest. As soon as she was comfortable she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

When she awoke, it was dark outside. The scorching heat was replaced with bitter cold. Sylvie shivered in her new coat from Roxxcart. She pulled a bottle of water out of her backpack, taking a hearty swig, and chewed thoughtfully on some Kablooie while planning her next meal.

If the greatest advantage of this particular apocalypse was time, the greatest disadvantage was the lack of proper dining options. All she saw that day were the rats, scouring little things running around on ugly, needle thin legs.

She put some kablooie in front of herself, and then waited, quietly and patiently. Eventually, a young rat got interested. Sylvie sat frozen, afraid to even breath, as the rat moved closer and closer to the candy, sniffing hopefully. As soon as it was close enough, Sylvie’s hand shot to it and released a pulse of magic. The rat froze: she had enchanted it. It’s thoughts were simple, just images and smells, really. It had no deep understanding of anything that was happening, and wasn’t even smart enough to be afraid as Sylvie brought a rock and crushed its head. She made a quick fire, roasting the small animal over it and devouring it without much thought. It did little in the way of satisfying her hunger, but it was better than nothing.

By the time she started feeling bad, she was already out in Hala. It was one of the worst days of the civil war, when one quarter of the city died in a single bad explosion. She hated this one, the constant sound of the air-raid sirens causing her heart to thump in her chest, but she already knew what to do when she heard them (run, find shelter, wait for the bang so you know it’s safe to come out again). Anyway, it was still better than being captured by the TVA; possible death was better than certain death.

She only had six hours there, the last three of which she spent throwing up in a gutter. Then she went to roxxacrt again for a few hours of throwing up and small sips of Gatorade; then to Lamentis-1, where one of the houses in the town had a decent bed. Then back to Hala, where she immediately went to a healer to describe her worsening symptoms.

“You say you were on Pellusa?” the healer asked, not at all perturbed by the youngling’s frequent planet hopping (she left out the time travel bit).

Sylvie nodded, dizzy and a little scared.

“Did you happen to come across a small rodent, like an ugly little rat?” the healer asked.

“Yeah,” Sylvie said. “I ate one, actually.”

“You ate one?” This, finally, seemed to throw the healer off. “Why would you eat a Pellusian rat?!”

Sylvie shrugged.

“It was there. I was hungry.”

“And who cured it for you?” the healer asked.

“Cured?” Sylvie asked, confused.

“Yes,” the healer said, “Pellusian rats are toxic. Before eating one you must first take off all the outer layers, and then cure its meat in Vanir red vinegar for at least forty eight hours.”

Sylvie just stared at him, speechless. From the outside, she could hear the sirens and the explosions getting closer all the time. The healer didn’t even react to them. The clinic had been built underground, so for now, they were safe here. He looked exhausted, a few days’ worth of stubble on his face.

“I never stay anywhere for more than half a day,” Sylvie said finally. It didn’t matter that he know. He was going to die in a few hours’ time anyway.

“In that case,” the healer said patiently, “may I suggest eating only the entrails? They don’t need any special treatment, and they’re not bad if roasted over an open flame. Thoroughly,” he added.

Sylvie nodded, dumbfounded.

“In the meantime, let me give you an antidote,” the healer said. “Are you Kree?”

“Asgardian,” Sylvie answered. That, of all things, threw him off.

“What are you doing all the way out here, then?” he asked.

“Touring the galaxy,” Sylvie shrugged nonchalantly. “Seeing the sights. Expanding my horizons.”

“In this war?” the healer asked, dumbfounded.

Sylvie just looked at him, her face impassive. The healer seemed to consider asking further, but apparently thought better of it. She guessed it didn’t matter all that much, anyway. He probably thought she was going to die too.

“Here you are,” the healer said, handing her a small bottle. ”Three teaspoons twice a day for three days and you’ll be good as new.”

Sylvie thanked him politely, took the bottle and left.

*

“That healer was so calm,” Loki said once their consciousness separated.

“It was after years of civil war,” Sylvie explained. “I guess he’d seen his fair share of orphans and otherwise abandoned children by then.”

“Guess so,” Loki said thoughtfully. “So eating the rats made you sick.”

“Wasn’t the first time,” Sylvie shrugged, “or the last, for that matter.”

“Sylvie.”

“What? You knew my life was shit.”

“Yes, I can see the appeal of your little Midgardian establishment now,” Loki said.

Sylvie smiled sheepishly.

“I wish I could take you to a banquet on Asgard,” Loki continued dreamily. “There was so much good food there. Whole boars, venison, beef. Cold peacock and duck and Salmon. Caviar, mead, the best Vanir wine…you would have loved it.”

Sylvie smirked.

“Sounds like someone’s hungry,” she remarked dryly.

Loki scoffed.

“I don’t get hungry…not really, anyway,” he shrugged, his gaze lost in the soft green light. “I just…miss home, I guess.”

“Well, you can come to New Asgard after this is over,” Sylvie suggested. “I’m sure Thor and Val will arrange a great feast for you. There’ll probably be no peacock, though.”

Loki smiled wistfully, shaking his head. He refused to meet her eyes.

“It wouldn’t be the same,” he said sadly.

Sylvie’s heart gave a painful little flutter. Until now, she gave no thought as to what Loki will do once he was free from his burden. Some part of her simply assumed he would be with her, but the truth was she simply didn’t think that far.

“Do you have…”she started hesitantly, not sure how to continue. Loki looked at her expectantly.

“Where are you gonna go, when this is all over?” she asked him carefully.

“I don’t know,” Loki admitted, shrugging slightly. “I never thought I’d get out of here, so…I have to admit I haven’t given it much thought. Why? Do you have any ideas?”

Sylvie shook her head.

“You’re not going back to the TVA, are you?” she asked, only half joking.

“Maybe,” Loki said thoughtfully. “I don’t know.”

“Um…” Sylvie said. “Maybe we could figure it out…together?” she suggested, shy, and he gave her a sad smile.

“It didn’t end very well the last time we said that,” he reminded her.

Sylvie bit her lower lip.

“I know,” she admitted finally. “But, still…I’d like to try, if it’s alright with you.”

“I’ll…think about it,” Loki said hesitantly.

Sylvie nodded, flustered. They said nothing more for a while, and eventually she drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

When she woke up, the first thing she saw was Loki’s face. He was gazing at her, a soft smile on his lips, his eyes sparkling.

“What?” she asked, self-conscious.

“You fell asleep,” Loki stated the obvious.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Sylvie said, twisting her neck and releasing some very satisfying popping sounds. “This chair is kind of uncomfortable.”

Loki just stared at her, still smiling.

“What?” she asked again, more forcefully this time.

“I thought you don’t fall asleep around untrustworthy people,” he explained.

Sylvie scoffed.

“You’re hardly untrustworthy,” she said.

Loki looked genuinely touched.

“I am?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Sylvie said, eying him suspiciously. “I mean, I sincerely hope so, given that you’re literally holding the entire multiverse in your hands.”

Loki looked at his hands with some surprise, as if seeing them for the first time.

“I…” he began, and failed to continue. Instead, he looked back at Sylvie, the same look of amazed wonder on his face.

“Okay, seriously, what?” Sylvie asked again, blushing furiously.

“Nothing,” Loki shrugged, trying and failing for nonchalance. “You’re just beautiful, that’s all.”

“Oh, stop it,” she rolled her eyes at him.

“Stop what?”

“Stop sucking up to me!” Sylvie said, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

Loki laughed. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

Sylvie hesitated.

“A-aren’t you?”

Loki shook his head, still smiling.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that you’re beautiful?”

Sylvie scowled.

“Only if they wanted something from me.”

Loki frowned.

“That’s a shame. I should do it more often, then.”

“Don’t,” she asked, watching his eyebrows rise in surprise.

“Why not?” he asked softly.

Sylvie stood up, waving her hand in frustration.

“Because I don’t know what to do with it!” she admitted. “I’m not used to being…admired, or stared at, or being called beautiful…”

“Well, we must fix that, don’t we?” Loki asked in a tone that made Sylvie stop in her tracks and blush even harder. “Because I think that every day you go without hearing how absolutely amazing, beautiful and fantastic you are, is a total waste.”

While he spoke, he stood up from his chair, taking the time branches with him. While his hands were otherwise occupied, his legs were clearly working, and he sauntered over to her with a swagger that caused an ache to flare between her legs.

“What are you doing?” she asked weakly as he walked all the way up to her, standing so close that she had to look up in order to see his face.

“Seducing you,” he drawled, almost whispering, “clearly.”

Sylvie wanted to take a step back, but her legs refused to budge. Her eyes jumped to Loki’s lips, just for a second, and that was enough for him to lean in and kiss her.

A shot of electricity ran down her back, rooting her to the spot. She leaned into the kiss, going on tiptoe and pulling herself flush against Loki’s chest, throwing her arms around his neck.

“What are we doing?” she murmured into his lips between kisses.

“Nothing that we haven’t done before,” he replied, breathless.

“Someone could come any minute,” she warned.

“No one is going to come,” Loki said. “They can’t get here without you, remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” Sylvie breathed, devouring his lips with hers. “I forgot.”

After that they fell silent for a while, punctuated only with whimpers and soft moans. Sylvie kissed Loki’s lips, his cheeks, his chin and his eyebrows: anywhere she could reach. She left a trail of soft pecks on his neck, nuzzling the spot where it met his shoulder. Loki shuddered under her touch, and she smiled wickedly.

“You should be careful,” she whispered playfully. “I bite.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” he said, and she attacked his mouth again.

Soon he was back on his throne, naked (Sylvie had magicked away their clothes), with Sylvie straddling his lap. He had two fingers inside her, thrusting rhythmically, with his thumb gently stroking her clit.

“Sylvie,” he whispered softly as she shuddered and moaned above him, “Sylvie.”

“Ah,” was all she managed in reply, as her climax built to completion, surging through her in an unstoppable wave, and then another, and another. She screwed her eyes shut, getting lost in the feeling, and Loki just watched, mesmerized.

“Now you,” she whispered as she came down from her high.

“What do you have in mind?” he asked, intrigued, and raised a teasing eyebrow as she grinned and licked her lips.

“Mmm, wicked,” he said, challenging, and she wiggled her eyebrows at him at slid off his lap and onto her knees.

They both giggled.

“You’re not going to bite now, are you?” Loki asked, suddenly worried.

“I guess we’ll find out,” she said and took him into her mouth.

He was already painfully hard, pulsing slightly with want and need. Sylvie slid him into her wet mouth and out, sucking softly, licking him with her tongue as if he was some delicious dessert. His eyes rolled back into his head and he groaned, losing himself in the sensations. She licked her small hands and wrapped them around the base of his cock, sliding up and down in rhythm with her mouth’s movements. Loki thrust helplessly into her mouth, climbing higher and higher, almost reaching, almost there, and then –

“Hi, y’all!”

The infernal orange clock appeared out of nowhere, startling both of them. 

“Ahhh!!”

They screamed in unison, Sylvie having just enough presence of mind not to bite down on Loki’s cock. She jumped off of him and, with a wave of her hand, dressed the both of them (although there wasn’t much she could do about the bulge in Loki’s pants).

“Oh, my,” Miss Minutes said, fluttering her eyelashes at them. “Am I interrupting something?”

“What do you think?” Sylvie spat angrily.

“My, my, young lady, there’s no need for that attitude. I’m just the messenger.”

“What do you want?” Loki asked shortly.

“I’m just here to tell you that the Temporal Conductor is finished,” Miss Minutes said pleasantly. “In case you want to get out of here.”

Loki and Sylvie blinked at her, thoughts still heavy with arousal.

“Shall I tell them to come over?” Miss Minutes asked.

“No!” Loki and Sylvie replied in unison.

Miss Minutes tilted her clock head inquisitively.

“Give us a few more minutes, please,” Sylvie requested through gritted teeth. “I’ll come get them myself when we are ready.”

“And please don’t show up here again without knocking,” Loki added. “I live here. It’s impolite.”

“Sure thing, sugar cube!” Miss Minutes said, and disappeared with a soft ‘pop’.

Loki and Sylvie exchanged looks.

“Well,” Sylvie said, “that was embarrassing.”

“Y-yeah,” Loki laughed nervously. “Totally awkward.”

“Did I ever tell you that I hate that clock?” Sylvie asked.

“Might have mentioned it,” Loki said, “once or twice.”

“Hmm,” Sylvie said, her eyes sliding down his body. She bit her lower lip seductively.

“Where were we?”

“Well,” Loki said, pretending to think about it, “as I recall, before we were so rudely disturbed by that deranged AI creature, I was enjoying that mouth of yours very much.”

“Hmm,” Sylvie said again. “And I imagine you want to get back to our…deep discussion?”

“I would very much like that, please,” Loki squeaked, as she waved their clothes away again with a twinkle in her eye.

“Well I have something else in mind,” she said, smiling, and came closer to his chair, lowering herself slowly into his lap. “If you have no objections,” she added, notching him at her entrance, waiting patiently for his reply, her mouth twitching in amusement.

“Rest assured, my lady,” Loki said, fighting to keep his composure as she slowly slid her wet cunt over his hard shaft, “I am absolutely delighted at the prospect.”

“Good,” she whispered as he was seated completely inside her. She slid up and came back down, “because I’d hate to leave this where that little orange bitch interrupted us.”

Loki didn’t answer. He fought to keep his eyes open, never breaking eye contact as Sylvie struck a rhythm, sliding him in and out of her heavenly folds. She had slight blush blooming on her cheeks and her lips were parted, plump and red from kissing. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in his life, especially as she threw her head back and contracted around him, shaking in the throes of her orgasm. He nuzzled her neck, inhaling her scent, whispering her name, until it was all too much for him and he began thrusting uncontrollably, faster and faster until he finally exploded inside her, spilling into her with unabashed ecstasy.

They stayed like this for a while, kissing blissfully, until Sylvie sighed and said “we should get down to business.”

“I thought we just did,” Loki remarked, earning himself a magnificent eye-roll.

“Sometimes I have no idea what I find in you,” she said, but the corners of her mouth were twitching in mirth.

Loki figured it was best not to answer that.

All business again, Sylvie cleaned and dressed them both with an elegant wave of her hand.

“Come on,” she said, stealing another quick kiss before swiping her tempad. “Let’s get you out of this tree.”

*

“You look decent,” Dr. Strange said when Sylvie stepped into the room. Behind him, O.B. was giggling and Casey gave her a big grin and two thumbs up.

“What do you mean?” she scowled.

“Oh, you know,” Dr. Strange shrugged, putting on an innocent face.

Sylvie looked at O.B., who stopped tittering long enough to say “Miss Minutes told us everything.”

“She gave details, too!” Casey added, a bit too enthusiastically for Sylvie’s liking. Then again, she assumed he didn’t get much excitement up at the TVA.

“So?” Sylvie shrugged, sniffing indifferently. “We’re adults.”

Strange raised his eyebrows at her, and she gave him a pointed look until he lowered his eyes. Triumphant, she could see that he was flustered, even though he was hiding it well. She smirked.

“Is the machine done?” Sylvie asked, eager to change the subject.

“Pretty much,” O.B. said. “We still need to check it under real conditions, but we can only do that at the tree.”

“And you’re sure it won’t make time implode or something, right?” Sylvie asked, giving him her scariest stare.

“Positive,” Strange answered in his stead. “In fact, I’m more worried it wouldn’t be enough.”

“What do you mean?” Sylvie asked. “You have a time stone, don’t you?”

“We do,” Casey said, “but we’re not sure how it will work outside of its own universe.”

“Does it matter?” Sylvie asked.

“I’m not sure,” Strange admitted. “It works ok, for the most part, but it feels…different.”

“Different how?”

“I don’t know,” Strange said. “Anyway, it’s supposed to control the time in one universe; I have no idea if it will be strong enough to power the entire multiverse.”

“Hmm,” Sylvie said, thoughtful.

“Come on,” Casey said, as he and O.B. started rolling the machine towards the time-door, “let’s go find out.”

*

“This isn’t working,” Loki said flatly after what felt like forever of the three men tinkering with the strange device. It looked…low tech, for lack of a better term, all pipes and gears and strange looking tubes. It was green, which O.B. assured him was a conscious design choice. At its center, where a rotating part was supposed to channel energy to and from the branches, the time stone shone a faded green.

“Have some patience, Loki,” said Mobius, who joined them for this grand occasion. “They only just started.”

“They’ve been working on this thing for hours,” Loki said. “It did nothing.”

“I don’t know what the problem is,” Casey said.

“I do,” O.B. answered. “The doctor was right: the time stone just doesn’t have enough energy to handle the entire multiverse.”

“But I thought the whole point was to let the multiverse feed on its own energy,” Sylvie said.

“Yes,” O.B. agreed, “all the excess energy should be transferred through the time stone, and then used to feed the other branches; it should be fine once we manage to get the process moving, but right now…”

“We need to start it,” Strange explained, waving his magical circles in the air. “It’s like a car battery; it’s fine once the car is running, but if you need to restart it…”

“I have an idea!” Sylvie and Mobius said together.

“What?” Casey said, but Sylvie already opened a time door.

“Be right back!” she said excitedly, rushed through the time door and disappeared.

“Er…what just happened?” Strange asked.

“She went to get some cables,” Mobius said, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Oh, no…” Loki sighed, shaking his head.

A second later, a time door opened again.

“Brother!” Thor bellowed, stepping in with Love and Sylvie in tow. “Oh, hello, wizard. Good to see you again.”

“Hi, Thor,” Dr. Strange said wearily. “How are you doing?”

“I am well, good wizard. New Asgard is prospering, I have a wonderful daughter and, thanks to you, a new sister! Now we just have to get my brother out of here, and it’ll be perfect.”

“Great,” Strange said. “And I take it you intend to help?”

“Sylvie tells me you are in need of some extra power,” Thor said, smiling mischievously. “I might be able to assist with that.”

“Me too!” Love piped up, raising Stormbreaker with one hand. It was bigger than she was, but the effect was intimidating nonetheless.

“What do you say, O.B.?” Mobius asked, “should we let them charge the stone?”

“Sure,” O.B. said, shrugging. “Let’s just hope it won’t fry the multiverse!”

“I’ll take care of that,” Strange said and, waving his hands, surrounded them all in a magical Shield. Loki, Sylvie and the time branches were out of it, while the rest of them were inside, together with the Temporal Conductor. “Ready?” He asked Thor and Love.

“Ready,” Thor said.

“Ready,” Love added, a determined expression on her face.

The air crackled, smelling softly of ozone. Flashes of static started glowing around Thor’s fingers. He raised Mjolnir in the air. Love swung Stormbraker, and her eyes shone purple. As the power crackled around them Sylvie held Loki’s hand, trying to quiet her anxiety.

“On three,” Strange said, straining to keep the shield up. “One…two…three!”

Lightning struck, and they were all engulfed in blinding white light.

Chapter Text

“Out of all the possible places in the multiverse, you chose to dine here.”

Sylvie smiled at Loki, who was looking wearily around him. She was massaging his hands, finally peeled (with some effort) from off the time branches. Sensation was coming back to them little by little, in painful pricks and needles.

“What?” Sylvie asked. “It’s a nice place.”

They were in the tavern in New Asgard, on a sunny Wednesday afternoon in late summer. All of them were seated around one large table: O.B. and Casey looking around them in enthusiasm, Strange and Val having a friendly drinking competition, Mobius having what looked for all the world like a therapy session with Sif; Thor and Love, Sylvie and Loki.

“Someone will recognize me,” Loki said, a worried expression on his face.

“Not wearing this they won’t,” Val interjected. “I hardly recognize you.”

“I assure you, madam, this is not what I would’ve chosen to wear if I could choose for myself,” Loki said, looking pointedly at Sylvie, who snorted indelicately and kept massaging his hands with a fond expression.

She had made him leave the horns on the throne, saying they were way too much, and conjured him a new outfit consisting of heavy duty pants, fishing boots, a flannel shirt and a fleece vest, all in his signature colors of green, black and gold.

“What?” she said, smiling innocently, “I love a man in a vest.”

“No you don’t,” he huffed.

“No you don’t,” Val interjected, and Sylvie’s smile widened.

“I think it looks good,” Sif said from her end of the table, struggling not to laugh. “Very…rustic.”

“Oh, please!” Loki rolled his eyes magnificently.

“Well, take it this way Lokes,” Mobius said, “at least this way no one will recognize you.”

“Hi, Loki!” said a stranger that passed their table. Loki gave Mobius a pointed glare.

“You were saying?”

“Why are they not more…shocked?” Casey asked, seeing how naturally the residents of New Asgard took to the appearance of their long lost, long dead, prodigal prince.

“Because he’s Loki,” Thor said, shrugging. “He died before and came back. Besides, he makes everything a lot more interesting.”

Loki smiled at him, touched.

“Well, I’m glad you finally decided to tell me your little secret,” Val told Sylvie.

“It had to come out eventually,” Sylvie shrugged, taking a sip of her ale.

When they appeared at Val’s door, only an hour before, with a still robe-clad, exhausted Loki, she sat them all down and listened very carefully to their tale. She took Sylvie and Loki being variants in stride, and invited everyone to a celebratory dinner. Loki was impressed.

Now he took a tentative sip of his red wine, managing not to spill anything though his hands were shaking. He put the glass back down at the exact same time Sylvie put down her tankard. They both flipped the hair out of their face in unison, a perfect mirror image.

“Wow,” Sif said.

“Yeah,” Val agreed, “I think having two Lokis around will take some getting used to.”

Loki shifted in his seat, uncomfortable, and exchanged a look with Sylvie. She frowned, taking his hand in hers, and whispered “you don’t have to decide anything yet.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, “after so much time alone with my burden, this all is a little bit…much.”

“You can always come back to the TVA,” O.B. suggested, “I’m sure B-15 would love to have you.”

“Yeah,” Casey said, “and it’s much more fun now that we don’t prune anyone. Well, hardly anyone…”

“Or, maybe you can go to Kamar Taj,” Strange suggested, “they may have use there for a mage like you. I can talk to the sorcerer supreme for you, if you like.”

Thor stood up and raised his hands in a placating, albeit dramatic gesture.

“My friends! I thank you all for your fine suggestions, but now is not the time for life altering decisions. My brother has just returned after an eternity in exile. We can discuss living arrangements tomorrow. Tonight, we celebrate!”

“Hear, hear,” Val said, downing her drink in one go. She smashed her tumbler on the floor. “Another!”

Soon, the entire crowed had joined the merriments. Val ordered a table to be sat for the children in the patio, where they were served refreshments and juice, while inside the adults got more and more rowdy as the night progressed. Many tankards of ale were smashed on the floor. Strange left via portal and came back with a grumpy man named Wong and a portable karaoke machine. Val made a drunk phone call full of weepy confessions, and a few minutes later was joined by an even weepier Carol, who flew into the scene to greet her with a long, passionate kiss. Everyone who was sober enough to notice cheered and whooped, and the two women laughed while kissing. Sif whistled. Sylvie, giggling merrily, disappeared through a time door and came back a minute later holding a beautiful, ornate bottle of booze.

“What’s this?” Sif asked, surprised.

“Figgy Port,” Sylvie sniffed casually, placing the bottle in front of Loki. It wasn’t lost on her that in the cheerful and very full atmosphere around them, Loki drank only a few sips of red wine.

He raised his eyes to her face, reverent.

“Did you go to the train?” he asked, his eyes suspiciously shiny.

“Only for a second,” she shrugged, trying to appear indifferent. “They were a little confused, but they humored me.”

He gave her a flat look.

“You punched the bartender, didn’t you?”

“No!” Sylvie denied, slapping him on the arm. “I asked nicely, and she gave it to me.”

He smiled.

“You really are getting soft, aren’t you?” he asked.

She sat next to him and bumped his shoulder with hers.

“Maybe a little bit.”

*

Staying with Mobius isn’t so bad. In fact, it’s rather relaxing. His old friend doesn’t expect him to be anything or do anything, just makes sure he doesn’t sink into listlessness while readjusting to life on the timeline. The couch could be more comfortable, though.

It was an easy choice to make, that first night out of the tree, to go and stay at Mobius’s instead of back to the TVA or in New Asgard. The first was a bit too hectic for his liking, and it’s constant preoccupation with the wellbeing of the timelines only served to fuel anxieties in the newly retired God of Time. Besides, Mobius wasn’t there and his company held half the appeal of the TVA to begin with: it was the relationship, the friendship, that made that place worthwhile. All of them, but especially Mobius. He does visit quite often and B-15 already informed him that he is to be their consultant on all things time-magic, which he is more than okay with, to be honest.

New Asgard, though…that was a little harder to explain. It’s not that he didn’t like it. He did, he really did. It had that same Asgard vibe, only with about a third of the pomp, which meant it felt like home but with about a third of the pressure. There was something comforting about it, knowing that the remainder of his people were rebuilding and thriving on earth, but he just couldn’t bring himself to settle down there. It felt wrong, somehow. Uncomfortable.

It wasn’t so much the Asgardians who have changed, but him. His adventures with the TVA, Sylvie and Mobius changed him on such a visceral level that he couldn’t stand to be seen as the cruel and vain prince he was before. Losing everything changed him. Friendship changed him.

Love changed him.

And so, from the sanctuary of a too-narrow couch in an old friend’s home, Loki is slowly rebuilding himself. His hands are pretty much healed now, only occasionally falling asleep or losing sensation all together. A small price to pay for his freedom, he supposes, especially as it gained him everything he’d thought he lost forever. At any rate, he keeps exercising them every day and he is getting better.

He also got his brother back, which he truly thought he never will. He actually never really thought about seeking Thor out, relieved to be free of the shadow that was his constant companion since childhood. But life hadn’t been kind to Thor in the last few years, and the vain and rowdy boy he remembered is gone. Thor’s changed too. Besides, he’s got Love now to keep him in check, and she is a handful even on the best of days. Loki enjoys spending time with them, eating strange and fluffy confections Thor calls “pan-flaps” (he’s pretty sure it’s not their real name, but doesn’t care enough to mention it). It’s fun. Besides, they’re family.

And then there’s Sylvie.

Sylvie.

Sylvie who appears in the apartment announced, as if she lives there, driving Mobius up the wall with a knowing smirk on her lips. Sylvie who inhales Thor’s pan-flaps and then asks for more with her mouth still full, who jumps around the living room with Love to the sound of a music she refers to as Punk. Sylvie with her lopsided smile and the dimple next to her mouth and the sparkle in her eyes she tries to hide whenever she talks to him. Sylvie that was disappointed that first night that he didn’t join her bed, but was kind enough not to mention it and only hugged him goodbye. Sylvie who, on cold nights, cuddles with him on the small couch, exchanging stories and soft kisses.

Sylvie who is…everything.

As much as he would love to simply jump into a life with her (a life she seems to want even if she doesn’t know how to say it out loud), it feels…dangerous. If love is a dagger, than Sylvie’s left his heart scarred in a thousand places. He wants to figure out everything with her, but for his own sanity (and hers), they have to take it slow.

So, they don’t jump into living together, aware of how entangled they may become if they weren’t careful. They spend some time together every day, and text on their tempads (the regular ones, not the Master tempad Sylvie carries on her wrist), and slowly and carefully try to build something that would last. That is not to say they never sleep together, but that is neither here nor there.

One night, he asks her on a date.

“What’s the occasion?” she asks, her breathing still heavy and her sweaty limbs intertwined with his on her small bed.

“No occasion,” Loki shrugs, even though she can’t really see it in the position they’re in. “I just want to spend some time with you.”

“Loki,” she says, slightly impatient, “we spend time together every day.”

“We do,” Loki admits, “but I want to do something special.”

She stiffens.

“You’re not going to ask me to marry you, are you? Because I have to tell you I don’t think we’re quite ready for that yet.”

“Yet?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

She rolls her eyes.

He laughs.

“Just a date, no proposal involved,” he says. “I promise.”

She smiles, that sweet and shy smile that she never gives anyone else.

“Okay.”

*

He takes her on a picnic, on the cliff above the sea near New-Asgard. The sky is high and clear, with small feather clouds, and the sea goes on forever. The wind is a bit chilly, though, and Sylvie doesn’t protest when he conjures the snuggliest blanket in all of existence for them to cuddle under (they’re sitting on the other one, and Sylvie still insists it’s a tablecloth anyway).

“I can’t believe that’s what we’re having,” Sylvie points out, eyeing the picnic basket.

“What?” Loki asks innocently, “this is the best Vanir wine there is.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is,” Sylvie says dryly, “but…Chicken McNuggets?”

“With sweet and sour sauce,” Loki says smoothly. “Your favorite.”

Sylvie tries to find something witty to say and evidently fails. Eventually, she sighs in defeat and grumbles “they are my favorite.”

“I know,” Loki says, and she gives him a timid smile.

“You know,” she says after they spend some time in comfortable silence, “they were the first thing I ate when I was finally free.”

“After you killed him, you mean?” Loki asks, surprised.

“Yeah,” Sylvie says. “I walked straight out of the citadel and into that McDonalds, and just sat down and had everything on the menu.”

He laughs, amused.

“I’m sure they just loved that.”

“Oh, they thought I was unhinged,” Sylvie admits, joining in the laughter, “but one thing led to another and they offered me a job.”

“That place must really be special,” Loki says, dead serious. “A strange women in an armor and sword walks in and instead of calling the police you hire her.”

Sylvie smiles wistfully.

“The kid who worked there, Jack…he was okay.”

“We could go visit him, if you like,” Loki suggests.

“I couldn’t do that,” Sylvie says. “I mean, it’s been forty years and I haven’t aged a day. Besides, he probably left a long time ago.”

Loki nods.

“Probably.”

The sun begins to set, and they watch it in silence. Sylvie lays her head on his shoulder and holds his hand, their fingers intertwining. Once it’s dark enough she opens her other palm and fireworks erupt out of it, small explosions of color in the clear night sky.

Loki smiles. Without prompting, he starts singing.

“I stormsvarte fjell jeg vandrer alene
Over isbreen tar jeg meg frem
I eplehagen står møyen den vene
Og synger: når kommer du hjem?”

Sylvie smiles wistfully.

“Where is home, anyway?” she asks, not looking at him.

“I don’t know,” he says softly, reaching out to stroke her cheek. “Maybe we can figure it out… together?"

She looks up at him with her heart in her eyes.

“Yes,” she whispers and leans in to capture his lips with a kiss.