Chapter Text
LOCATION – DATE: Norway, Stranden, Frigga's Lodge, exact coordinates highly magically classified – June 20, 2026 (Beta Sacred Timeline).
PR-DEPARTMENT MUSICAL RECOMMENDATION: For optimal emotional resonance, this scene should be accompanied by Tina Arena's "Do you know where are you going to" and Karen ElsonI's "We'll meet again".
Tony Stark gripped the handle of the reinforced high-tech briefcase, shifting its weight from one hand to the other.
"How do I look?" he asked his wife, Pepper.
They were walking down the small, neatly trimmed path toward Frigga's Lodge. Their daughter Morgan sat perched on Tony's shoulders, her small fingers idly tapping against his collarbone, while Pepper carried several large parcels with gifts for their hosts, who had cordially invited them for the weekend.
"Tony, you've asked me that three times already. Why are you so nervous?"
"I really need him to say yes to my proposal." Tony adjusted his collar with his free hand while making sure he didn't lose his grip on the briefcase or Morgan on his shoulders. "I'm sure he could reject me just because I don't look stylish enough. He might refuse over something as trivial as the wrong shade of shirt."
"Tony, I don't think that's the real reason he usually politely declines your generous offers."
Before they could knock, the door swung open. A small girl in Winnie-the-Pooh pajamas rushed toward them.
"Mo-o-organ! You came!"
Morgan jumped from her father's lap and ran to meet her dear friend. The girls embraced, then dashed off toward the green lawns where what appeared to be a barbecue spot was being prepared.
Sylvie welcomed Pepper and Tony into the house.
"Mobius and Verity will watch Vivien and Morgan. They're setting up the barbecue. Would you like something to start with?"
The Starks entered and found themselves in a warm, cozy hall. The walls were covered with vivid oil paintings displaying scenes from Norwegian legends and myths. It felt like stepping into a private art gallery, and they needed a moment to take it all in. Yet, there was no museum coldness here. The house smelled of an open fireplace and pine. It was an environment of wealthy, quiet hygge, wrapped in low amber lighting, deep but minimalist furniture, and textured wool rugs that blanketed the wood floors. A massive, masterfully crafted wooden staircase dominated the center, winding its wide steps toward the upper levels.
At that same moment, a divine young lady descended the stairs.
She was stunning, her silver hair cascading all the way to her feet. But her most astonishing feature was her eyes, enormous, emerald, looking like something out of an anime. Instead of a standard gown, she wore a deep midnight-blue dress inspired by traditional Norwegian folk attire. She looked less like a modern girl and more like a Disney princess in the final scene, just before the prince's sunset kiss.
"Rapunzel?" Stark blurted out before he could stop himself.
The girl paused on the lower step, a faint pink flush creeping up her cheeks.
Sylvie smiled warmly, stepping forward to ease the silence. "This is Ellie. You two technically met five years ago at the Avengers base, when you saved Loki with your nano-tech armor. Though she was much smaller then."
"Right, of course. Time flies," Tony cleared his throat, adjusting his jacket. He couldn't help but marvel at how much of Loki’s grace she had, perfectly blended with Sylvie's fierce composure.
Stark collected himself and looked around.
"So where's His Academic Majesty? Don't tell me he's grading papers On Saturday."
Sylvie let out a heavy sigh, tilting her head toward the ceiling. "We have a bit of a... domestic situation upstairs."
A loud bang from the second floor deafened them all.
"It's about Flox, our oldest. His alligator, actually. Loki is trying to mediate them at the moment and reduce the threat level to a two."
"And what was the threat level before?"
"Seven... not to living beings. To clothes. Flox's alligator ate all the Nuddsons' socks, our housekeeper, you met him at the gate – and decided to move on to Loki's." She smiled. "Nothing to worry about now."
Another loud bang.
Sylvie directed Stark toward Loki's study on the second floor, then quickly excused herself to give Pepper a tour and check on the barbecue.
When Stark turned, he spotted Loki at the far end of the corridor, still arguing with a tall young man.
"You can't defeat me, Father!" Flox cried. "No one can."
"Why, son?" Loki's voice was calm. "Do you really think there are only face-to-face battles, like your uncle Thor teaches? I know about the things you think are secret. My knowledge is my weapon – and not my fists."
"Try me!"
"Second door in the basement. Third shelf. It's empty now."
Flox paled.
"That's not fair! I won it fairly in Muspelheim!"
"The third door after the gym, under a barrel of beer? Already in a Norwegian archaeological museum."
"You can't do that, Father!"
"I can. And I did."
"Why?"
"Because you are my son, and I don't want you to be harmed." Loki's voice softened. "Tell your uncle that if he gives you another of Surtur's or Hela's weapons, I will personally curse him so thoroughly he'll go bald until the end of time."
Flox clenched his fists. An alligator nearby watched them both with curious eyes, as if observing a particularly interesting documentary.
"Need popcorn?" Loki asked the alligator quite seriously. "Or another of my socks?" He turned back to Flox. "Now, both of you, to the garden. Study history before the party begins."
Flox glared at him.
"And I don't mean Midgardian history. Asgardian history."
"No, Father! Why? Why do I need to study something that was destroyed in Ragnarök?" Flox groaned.
A dark, giant shadow appeared on the wall. It looked monstrous. It detached itself and prepared to deliver a firm slap to the back of the boy's head.
Loki's eyes sparkled. Flox shrank under his gaze.
"Asgard is not a place." Loki's voice was quiet, certain. "Asgard is its people."
He winced slightly, stretching his numb right hand.
Flox's defiance crumbled. "Father... I'm sorry."
"Tomorrow. The Valkyrie chapter."
"Yes, Father."
"She'll examine you personally."
"Of course, Father."
Flox trudged down the corridor, head low, his alligator following. The shadow accompanied them to the end of the hall, then vanished.
Loki leaned against the wall, lowered his head, and took a deep breath. Stark approached. Loki still hadn't noticed him.
"Hello, Ranger." Stark said softly. "How are you?"
Loki looked up. Stark watched his face transform in an instant: a moment ago there was the shadow of Loki, Prince of Asgard, speaking with his son; the next moment – Professor Odinson, smiling warmly, openly, like any mortal man.
"Ah, Stark. You've arrived! Sorry, we had a ..."
"…a situation with a level-seven threat to socks. Sylvie warned us."
Stark noticed Loki was barefoot. He raised an eyebrow in silent question. Loki shrugged. Christmas socks appeared in a green flash – Grinch print, naturally.
Loki silently ushered Stark into his study. Stark accepted the invitation, clutching his reinforced high-tech briefcase.
Stark had never seen Loki's study before. He was impressed.
The room was large and spacious. One wall had been transformed into a board covered with green-hued signs in an unknown language. An enormous desk sat near the big window, cluttered with gadgets and open screens displaying frozen lines of text. A large black cat occupied the desk, its tail raised in silent greeting to the guest.
The room overflowed with things. It reminded Stark of his own workshop, except where his world ran on gears, circuits, and engineering, Loki's seemed powered by books. They were everywhere, an overwhelming number of them, papers and folders, objects that looked like magical artifacts, maps, weapons, and very bizarre things he couldn't name or define. Some floated in the air, some rested on shelves under stasis fields, some simply lay on the floor.
Stark tried not to touch anything. He was afraid of being cursed or turned into a toddler by accidental contact with something unknown. He chose a safe spot near the wall with an outstanding collection of masks from around the world. Nearby stood an exhibition of the master of the house himself – photographs of Loki in different roles and positions.
Stark shifted the metallic briefcase from his right hand to his left and tapped the frame that held three images: two smiling young women on a large eight-legged horse; then the Professor himself in an armchair with a sign that read, "From loyal bloggers, Whitney and Alex, with love"; and a photo of Loki being crushed by the Hulk in 2012.
"I have to admit, your loyal bloggers - those Whitney and Alex – have pulled off an elaborate trick with your PR campaign after your redemption case. They've practically turned your galactic maniac persona into a local folk hero." Stark turned to Loki. Loki's lips curved into a slight smile, but it wasn't his familiar smirk. Stark was relieved not to see the old prince's mask sliding into place.
"I know women love bad guys, but I even got a proposal to produce a multi-season Netflix series about you."
Loki looked unimpressed.
"What? Good proposal. What'd ya think? Could be good money now. Ratings for that kind of stuff are through the roof." Stark spread his hands. "Relax, Shakespeare. I wasn't offering you a role. Just saying. Big money. Streaming. Merch." He paused. "You'd make a terrible action figure, though."
"Courtesy of Ratatoskr," Loki answered, half-sitting on his own table and patting his big black cat, "Midgardian money is not an issue for New Asgard."
"Ratato.. what?" Stark blinked. "Like Ratatouille? An Asgardian dish? Or is it some kind of spell?"
Loki started to answer, then stopped, studying Stark the way a professor would study a student before an exam.
"It's complicated, Stark."
Stark felt like he'd just failed an exam right then. His palm was sweating against the briefcase handle. Loki noticed his predicament and gestured for him to put the briefcase on the nearest chair.
"Anyway." Stark pretended not to have noticed the gesture and just wiped his sweaty hand on his pants. "Those girls are brilliant. Wanna share their contact information? With your partner? I need talented PR managers on my staff as well, you know."
"Do you want to lure away my people, Stark?"
Your people? What exactly did he mean by your people here?
Stark flashed his usual broad smile.
"Of course…" He paused. "Seriously, though, with that kind of fame, you could do better. Try elections? Get yourself into Earth politics, maybe?"
Loki squinted at him.
"What do you want, Anthony?" There was a smile behind his eyes, even if his lips barely moved. "Are you testing me?"
Was it that obvious?
Again, that professor's look made Stark feel like a green intern. Stark sighed. The briefcase seemed heavier than his old Iron Man armor now. He relented, put the case on the chair, tapped something on his watch, and the lid opened with a series of clicks and hisses. Stark fished out the papers and closed the lid the same moment, as if he was afraid to unleash a genie imprisoned inside.
"Your official redemption package." Stark waved the papers in the air and put them on the table beside Loki. "It took my testimony, Strange's report, and the devilishly brilliant brain of our new attorney, Murdock, but officially you're no longer wanted. We managed to classify you as an interstellar prisoner of war. Strange’s report proved that Thanos used mind-control and a fair share of torture to turn you into a glorified puppet back in 2012. Long negotiations in court, several gallons of coffee, and tons of paperwork - and now you can safely attend the premiere of your own theatrical comedy. Even in New York. I am your producer, after all. We’ve already locked down a Broadway stage for the musical adaptation of your latest script. 'The Space Revengers' is going to clean up at the Tony Awards, I can feel it."
Stark stopped speaking as abruptly and solemnly as if he had just delivered a court verdict. He waited for a spark of gratitude or triumph, but again Loki remained entirely unimpressed, barely glancing at the papers. His hand was still glued to the cat's back.
"Not even a thank you?" Stark remarked, a faint note of unease creeping into his voice.
Are we your servants or your students, Prince Loki?
"Murdock, yes. A very impressive person. Blind. Huh?" Loki smirked, and Stark made a note that he suppressed something – amusement, perhaps? "We worked together on the case. I appreciated the experience of getting acquainted with your legal system. It helped a lot with another case."
Now his eyes gleamed with an expectation he couldn't hide. "Have you brought it? The government's decision?"
So addicted. Even obsessed with the thing.
"Yes, you've become worryingly sharp with Earth law, Green Ranger. Maybe it was easier when you just broke our rules. After that treaty trick, you became a formidable opponent. What's the play here? Are your PR girls designing something for you?" Stark laughed, but his expression quickly sobered. "You aren't actually planning to become president or UN Secretary-General, are you? I don't believe people can change so dramatically. Haven't you left your Glorious Purpose behind after all that happened?"
Loki was silent for a long moment, his gaze distant. "My scale of thinking is entirely different, Stark."
"Different how?" Stark pressed, his internal alarms giving a quiet, persistent click. Now that he no longer had the briefcase handle, his hands felt strangely empty. He desperately wanted to pick something up out of old engineering habit – but again, what could he touch here without being enchanted? Or worse.
"Different how?" Stark repeated. "The galaxy? The universe? What could be bigger?"
Loki remained completely silent, offering nothing but a cryptic gaze. Stark's gut pulled tighter, a heavy weight anchoring his chest. Seeking to break the tension, he glanced back toward the photos.
A photo from an awards ceremony - Loki had won a prize for a breakthrough in screenwriting a year ago. Then: Loki with Valkyrie and Thor at the opening of New Asgard University. Loki with rector, Katherine Heathrow, who had left Nottingham for the new post.
"I still wonder," Stark said, "how you persuaded Katty and her husband to move to Norway."
Loki smiled. "Oh, you know. I can be very charming when I need to be. Though she insisted I take the position of vice‑rector and remain a professor as well."
"Isn't that too much? Juggling so many roles?"
"I have the best secretary in the world."
Stark smirked. "Pepper would love to have you on her board of directors at Stark Enterprises. Sometimes she needs someone to gently push those bald heads toward wise decisions."
"No, you see, I'm too busy. Establishing New Asgard University here in Norway isn't my only headache."
"What other projects?"
Loki nodded toward a massive stack of enormous books, the kind from a medieval monastery library, piled from shelf to ceiling.
"I started with Asgardian history. Took some books from Odin's dungeons before Ragnarok. Then Quill took a small print run of my first volume – Asgardian History: A Masterpiece - to the space book market."
"Quill? Books?" Stark's eyebrows shot up. "Was he out of his mind? Or did you persuade him too?"
"No, no. He owed me after losing at cards. We became acquainted at the Avengers base during my long coma rehabilitation. He agreed to sell some copies at a big space exhibition. I've received pre‑orders from other realms. They want me to write their histories too." Loki's eyes grew distant. "Sometimes I travel to other galaxies to collect material, speak with their librarians and archaeologists. It turns out our cosmic history is one large story, connected by events and the same annoying faces. The more I learn, the more I see the pattern." A pause. "I'm certain there's something else beyond it. Something in its back rooms."
Loki stretched his arm – that same aching motion.
"Still bothering you?" Stark asked quietly.
"Depends on the weather. No trace of the poison now, just nerve damage. Strange thinks it might fade someday." A faint smile. "My special abilities are gone with the poison, though. Thor and Valkyrie still tease me before battles. They ask me to give them strength, to be their muse." Loki smirked. "Shall we go upstairs?" he suggested. "More space for relaxing."
Stark was glad to change the scene. They still had another case to negotiate.
They climbed a spiral staircase in the center of the study.
The upper floor was blessedly free of clutter, an observation room with floor-to-ceiling windows, a bar, a soft seating area arranged to take in the spectacular view of sea. It felt like a watch post: almost the entire Lodge was visible from here. The garden, the vast land stretching to the shore, the open waters of the fjords, the lawns where the barbecue party would soon take place. Stark spotted Morgan and Vivien playing, Pepper and Sylvie talking while helping two other people, office clerks, by the look of them.
"I'll introduce you to my best friend, Mobius, and his colleague Verity, when we join them," Loki said.
Stark pointed. "Is that a grand piano in the garden?"
"It doesn't function. Now it's just an installation - a flower bed." Loki smiled. "Or perhaps a sign that nothing is quite what it seems at first glance."
He studied Stark for a moment, then moved to the bar.
"Drink? Valkyrie brought the bar from the Statesman to my office. She claimed it would be safer here. Usually, she and Thor come here to celebrate their victories. And every time they do, Sylvie sends me urgently to do the shopping."
Stark stared at the mesmerizing open water.
"How are you, Stark?" Loki handed him a glass of what looked like Earth scotch.
"I honestly don't know." Stark swirled the drink. "Still think about Thanos. Can't turn that page. Five years have passed, but I feel... weird. Like I'm living a life that belonged to someone who wasn't meant to survive. On Maw's ship, I was sure that flight was one-way. I had a dream that I was wearing Thanos's gauntlet. I made the snap. And then … the end."
Loki was quiet for a moment. "If my theory is correct, and it might not be, there are many other Starks in other universes. Some less fortunate. Some without families, without loving women beside them."
"You think the same about yourself. Admit it, Loki, Prince of Asgard." Stark met his eyes. "You came to Earth for your Glorious Purpose. And it turned out to be... a family? A house by the sea?"
"You haven't been to the open sea, have you, Stark?" Loki's voice was soft. "Without your gadgets. Free of all of it. Just you, real you, and the sea. I could show you what it means to be a sailor."
"You can't go without your magic."
"Why? I could suppress it for a day." Loki's eyes gleamed with that familiar mischief, but softer now, warmer. "Want to try sailing with an almost mortal Asgardian?"
"Almost…" Stark echoed skeptically.
Loki shrugged. "We don't need to take unnecessary risks. Our wives are too protective."
Stark set down his glass. The playfulness faded, replaced by something more serious. His briefcase occupied the small glass table – what was the point in delaying the inevitable?
He cleared his throat before speaking.
"About the other case."
Loki's eyes lit up again.
"The authorities are still shocked. Especially after all the historical and legal analysis, proving that Asgard's heirs have every right to the Tesseract. Who could have imagined that during the war, in 1943, a treaty was concluded between Franklin D. Roosevelt and Odin himself? A real treaty, signed and archived! It's surprising that Odin would concern himself with such a trivial Earth matter. And still, the president's office asked me to verify your second original copy? Do you have it here, or -"
Before Stark could finish, Loki conjured an old parchment that appeared on the table near the case.
"You are welcome, Anthony. It is real. I found it accidentally, between the pages of one of the books from Odin's dungeons. I was fortunate enough to study magical design spells, to considerably expand my interdimensional pockets. I took quite a lot from the vaults before Ragnarök."
Stark opened the briefcase again, this time rummaging through it properly, and pulled out a device about an arm's length long with a touch screen.
"It's an analyzer. Actually, it's Banner's invention as much as mine. Gamma waves are his domain, you know."
Loki laughed this time. "Oh, yes. I know his story quite well."
They were both more relaxed after a shot of scotch. But for Loki, and Stark's intuition rarely failed him, it was less about the drink than the closeness to his purpose. The device hummed. Stark scanned the old parchment carefully. The paper looked old enough to be fragile. He didn't want to imagine what museums would pay for such an artefact, especially after the Battle of Wakanda.
Stark put away the device when the scanning was finished. The figures were still multiplying on the tablet screen he had taken from briefcase. Loki stared at the device with great curiosity.
Stark hummed. The truth was undeniable. The treaty was genuine. Loki didn't bother to look at the figures. He had read the outcome on Tony's grim face.
"You still don't trust me?"
Stark, who was drinking his third shot, almost choked.
"Are you kidding, Green Ranger? Would you trust yourself?"
Loki followed suit with a shot.
Stark elaborated. "Why do you suddenly need it? The Infinity Stone? Like, now? Five years have passed since Thanos, and only now New Asgard and its heirs are claiming their rights?"
"I told you, Stark, I travel frequently to gather material for my history volumes. Commercial starships are dreadfully slow. And besides, I don't have the same immunity in space that Midgard governments enjoy."
Stark laughed. He had helped secure legal redemption for an intergalactic criminal, after all. Good job, Stark. And now he was about to present him with a way to cross all conceivable boundaries.
"Right. Research. Of course." Stark leaned back. "No. Loki. Why now?"
For the first time since the conversation began, Loki was completely silent. Beyond the windows, the fjord stretched into the distance. Below, Morgan and Vivien raced across the grass while Sylvie laughed at something Pepper had said. Mobius fussed around the grill while Verity relaxed on a chaise lounge. Loki smiled silently, watching Mobius in his sunglasses.
Stark appreciated the moment of silence, letting himself be drawn into the picturesque scenery. The thought of Loki's fishing invitation teased the back of his mind.
When Loki finally spoke, his voice was quieter. "Why now, Anthony? Because five years ago I wasn't ready."
"Ready for what?"
Loki's hand slid into his pocket. Stark noticed the motion. "To know my own story." A long silence followed.
"And perhaps, since you've brought the equipment, you could help me answer another question as well."
Loki withdrew a small round ball, like a pearl, but three times larger.
"What's this?" Stark asked.
"I'm not sure. I used it as an educational tool during my lectures at the university. When I lost my memory and magic, I woke up holding it. I considered it my talisman before I knew the whole story. Then I lost it during our chaotic move from Nottingham to New Asgard, buried somewhere among my academic things. Donna, my secretary, only recently unearthed it from one of the office boxes."
Loki handed the pearl to Stark.
"It produces a fascinating optical illusion. It just occurred to me. Could we test it with your spectrum analysis device?"
Stark's scientific curiosity instantly overrode his suspicion.
"How much does a piece of Stark technology like that cost?" Loki asked with a new business-like air. Something new in his behavior. It made Stark alert.
"What? This?" Stark asked. "Quite a lot, I think. Don't worry, you can't afford -"
"Name your price, Stark." Loki leaned against the bar counter.
And there it was again. Dear earthlings, let's welcome our new alien guest – Businessman Loki.
Loki pulled a small sack from his pocket and tossed it to Stark.
"Is it enough?" Loki said with a seriousness that made Stark untie the small lace on the sack without much thought. In his palm, a handful of flawless massive diamonds glittered in the light. Stark felt his throat go dry in an instant.
"What? Where did you get these?" Stark fixed him with a somber gaze.
"Oh, no, Antony. Don't look at me like that. I did not rob anybody. As I have already mentioned, New Asgard is now quite a rich country on Earth. After Vivien tamed Ratatoskr, diamonds are something we have in plenty. Ratatoskr is Yggdrasil's squirrel. It came to us a year ago, when the sapling became large enough to support it. So it turned out that this divine creature is not only a good history consultant for my Asgardian history but is also capable of cracking the nuts Yggdrasil produces. And inside – we found this."
Damn magic.
"Unbelievable," Stark muttered and found his glass annoyingly empty.
"Magic and economics, Stark," Loki smirked. "Green economics, by the way."
Pepper and Sylvie stood by the barbecue, watching the smaller children play. Morgan and Vivien sat cross-legged on the grass, deeply engaged in a game they called Ratatoskr's Hoard. A growing circle of glittering stones lay between them. Each time one of the girls scored a point, a silver-red squirrel darted across the lawn, deposited another sparkling pebble beside them, and vanished.
Pepper watched the creature attentively. At one point, she could have sworn that Vivien was talking to it.
Nearby, Ellie had been sketching, but after a while she tucked her pencil behind her ear and wandered off toward the path leading down to the water.
"Ellie, have you seen Mobius?" Sylvie called after her.
Ellie glanced back. "Yes. I think they're on the chaise longues with Verity. Father gave him new sunglasses, like Dr. Strange's, but improved." A small smile. "I'm afraid your office friends are indisposed for today. Verity tried the glasses herself."
Sylvie muttered something under her breath. Ellie continued down the path.
Pepper watched her go. "She's like a real princess."
"Ellie? Yes. Her beauty is legendary at school."
"Have you thought about modelling agencies? She's extraordinary."
Sylvie laughed. "Oh, no. Loki is far too protective of his princess. I sometimes wonder if he'll lock her in a tower one day. There were a few poor souls from her school who asked her to the cinema."
"Let me guess, their bodies still haven't been found."
Sylvie laughed again. "No, he just spoke to their fathers. Revealed a few small boyhood secrets. Ellie's been free from unwanted attention ever since." She shrugged. "She doesn't mind. She prefers solitude and drawing anyway." A pause. "Though there is one young man who has a tiny place in her heart. Martin, from my office. They've co-authored several art projects."
Pepper raised an eyebrow. "Loki knows?"
Sylvie's expression turned conspiratorial. "I'm doing my best to keep it a secret."
"From Loki?" Pepper shook her head. "I'm impressed."
A shadow crossed Sylvie's face, brief, there and gone. Pepper noticed but said nothing.
Morgan came running back toward them. "Mom! Mom! Look what Vivien gave me!"
She opened her small hand. Pepper looked down. For a second she thought it was glass. Then the sunlight caught the stone.
"Morgan..." She picked it up carefully. "Is this a diamond?" Her eyes widened.
"Vivien said I could keep it. I won it!"
Pepper slowly raised her eyes toward Sylvie.
Sylvie winked. "Long story. Better if Loki tells you himself." Sylvie glanced toward the windows of Loki's office. "By the way, we should invite our boys to join us. If they've opened that bottle, we won't see them for the rest of the day."
"What bottle?"
"The one with the gold flakes," Sylvie said with a sigh. Pepper noticed that, despite her warning, Sylvie had already surrendered to the inevitable.
"You mentioned the optical anomaly?" Stark asked, studying the pearl in his hand. Rather ordinary, except for its unusual size, unexpected heaviness, and a faint tickling sensation when touched with bare skin. "Exactly what kind of anomaly?"
"Just direct a stream of photons at it," Loki replied.
Stark shrugged.
"By the way. You know, Fury nearly ate his own tie – if he actually wore one – when he found out you'd been living right under his nose for nine entire years." Stark fished a torch from his pocket. "Turns out all their security recordings and any evidence of your existence were corrupted. He didn't forget that offence Odin had caused."
"I don't think it was Odin's doing," Loki muttered.
"Never mind. Just imagine your legal maneuvers now with the Space Stone case … Oh, wow…"
When the torchlight caressed the pearl's surface, it unfolded. A sphere of pale pink light materialized in the air above it. Then, from within, a larger sphere in deep blue, then violet, then gold. The pearls multiplied and expanded, but not physically, just as luminous projections, each one eclipsing the last, until the room was wrapped in concentric rings of soft colour. The original pearl remained at the center, unchanged.
"What the –" Stark uttered in awe.
"Quite impressive, I admit. Especially for a large audience. What's interesting is that the larger the audience, the stronger the effect. I wonder if it would work in open space. Haven't tried it."
Stark didn't hesitate any longer and placed the pearl inside the chamber of the analyzer. Loki instantly became alert.
"Stark… I don't think it is a good idea to do it here."
"Why?" Stark asked. The device hummed and a soft purple light bathed the pearl.
Ellie left the barbecue party, lost in thought. Her feet carried her to the shore. She didn't notice that she had crossed the first line of the protective magical borders her grandmother had placed long ago. Something called to her, from somewhere deep inside, or perhaps from somewhere else. She couldn't tell anymore where her own will ended and another's began.
She found herself on a weathered bench in a small, hidden cove, sheltered from the waves, secret and still. She pulled out her sketchbook and began to draw. She didn't notice when the man in the green hoodie sat down beside her. When she finally looked up, she studied him carefully.
He wore the face of Mr. Stark.
"Hello?" he said. The same voice too.
"Hello." Her eyes glittered.
He stared back. Deep in his eyes, a small flame flickered.
"What are you drawing?" he asked. "May I see?"
Wordlessly, she opened her sketchbook. Page after page revealed her family.
Her brother Flox racing across the sky on Sleipnir's back.
Her little sister Vivien, the beast-whisperer, engaged in a conversation with a bear.
The Valkyrie and Ellie's mother sparring in the training yard.
Ellie's father and his friend Mobius hugging beneath the young World Tree.
Her uncle Thor and Jane Foster battling night beasts outside New Asgard.
Her friend Martin, a young red-haired man in TVA office attire, drawing comics.
Her father asleep in an armchair with an open book on his chest and Wagner the Cat curled up on his lap.
"Where is his picture?" the man with Stark's face asked. "The one you hide."
Ellie met his gaze. "You won't find him here. My working sketchbook is at the TVA."
"And could you show me the way?"
"Where?"
"To the TVA. To him." A pause. "To his throne at the End of Time."
Ellie went very still. Then a spark of mischief lit her eyes so like her father's.
"No way, Doom." Her voice was soft and certain. "You will not find him."
The man flinched.
"I could kidnap you, right now," he threatened.
"No, you can't." Ellie shook her head. "You're just an image. A projection. My grandmother's spell reaches farther now, after Hela's invasion – even to sailing ships. Father himself did it." She said, not without a touch of pride.
"Someday, I will find the way."
"Yes." Ellie's eyes were ancient now, older than the sea or even the cosmos itself. "But right now, you're in danger. The TVA, they tracked your signal, now they know where you are. They're coming, Victor. Be careful."
"Ellie!" Mobius's voice rang out from above. He stood at the top of the steps, breathing hard. B-15 was right behind him.
Ellie turned back to the bench.
The man with Stark's face was gone.
For the first brief second, when Stark put the pearl into the analyzer, everything was calm. Then the device began to beep frantically. The pearl suddenly flared with a blinding, terrifying white light.
That was the moment Loki snatched it out of Stark's hands. He cast a protective green magic dome around the device, now frantic and screeching, floating in the center of the room. Loki's hands worked furiously, weaving the spell.
Stark, mesmerized by the spectacular experiment, didn't notice when Loki pushed him behind his back. Being shielded by Loki felt strange.
"Stark… I need the Stone," Loki said, a little breathless.
"Now?"
"Stark, it's not the right time to argue. Your government has received all the papers. And you brought it."
Stark kept his face expressionless. The pearl released a colossal, violent surge of energy, and the green dome sparkled with lightning.
Stark heard a painful gasp. Loki's right hand trembled as he held the force field.
"Stark, just give me the final permission. I know it's in your case. I won't be able to stop it. Its power is increasing."
"But Fury…"
A new flash of light bathed the spacious room. The windows trembled with an invisible force.
"Stark!!!"
"Yes, I yield. The stone is yours."
The briefcase on the table snapped open by itself.
Security-enforced system? What security. It's magic, baby.
Summoned by a flick of Loki's left hand, the glowing blue Space Stone floated into the air. Harnessing its raw power alongside his own green magic, Loki twisted his wrist. A localized spatial rift opened inside the green dome, sucking in the pearl's bursting energy.
With a deafening roar, the massive explosion was sucked into the rift and redirected elsewhere.
The sudden silence made Stark's ears ring. The analyzer with the pearl still inside dropped on the floor without a sound.
Loki stumbled back and leaned against the bar counter, breathing fast.
"Where did you send it?!" Stark asked.
"Andromeda! You call it that." Loki barked back hoarsely. Sweat was breaking out on his forehead.
"Why? Is it inhabited?"
Loki almost moaned.
"First galaxy that came to mind, Stark. I don't know!"
Loki stared at the Space Stone now floating in front of him. He snapped his fingers, and the Stone vanished into one of his magical pockets.
"Should I sign any papers? An acceptance certificate?" He raised an eyebrow.
Tony almost chuckled.
At last, he saw him.
Not the university professor. Not the historian. Not the master of a great house and family man.
Loki.
Still dressed in his Grinch Christmas socks and professor's shirt, but standing before him with the look of a battle mage who had just redirected a stellar-scale explosion into another galaxy and prevented a disaster through sheer magical audacity.
Meanwhile, Loki surveyed the room with satisfaction.
"At least this time, no shattered glass. Sven will be pleased."
"This time?" Stark raised an eyebrow.
Loki let out a breathless laugh. He reached behind the bar and grabbed the bottle of rose-colored liquid with golden flakes suspended inside. Without asking, he poured them both a drink.
"Actually, I wanted to ask you about that thing. Again," Stark began.
"No, Stark. I've already said no. No Avengers business. I'm a villain who served his sentence and repented. Now I write memoirs and theatrical comedies."
"I noticed you changed your genre. Your style of speaking too." Stark's voice was gentle. "Though, you know... sometimes I still see you. In you."
Stark absently clapped him on the shoulder, then froze, realizing what he'd done.
Loki stared at him with a blank expression.
"Sorry, Green Ranger." Stark stepped back. "Forgot you don't like being touched. Don't throw me out the window."
Loki's face softened. A warm smile, human and genuine, spread across his features.
"You too, Stark." He raised his glass. "You too."
Stark sighed in relief.
"So... about that sailing trip. Is the contract still in force?"
Loki smiled.
"I look forward to fulfilling it... partner."
The barbecue wound down slowly, as all good things do. The children grew tired, the adults grew contemplative, and one by one the guests drifted inside or toward their rooms. The night fell quickly. Soon the house settled into that warm, quiet hum of a home filled with sleeping people.
Loki found Sylvie on her favorite bench, near the small still very young tree of Yggdrasil. The open water stretched before her in distance, vast and peaceful.
"Are you cold?" he asked, and without waiting for an answer, pulled out a blanket and draped it over her shoulders.
He settled beside her, pulling the blanket to cover them both.
"You know, sometimes coldness isn't about the weather," he said quietly. "It's something in the heart. When you're lonely. Or afraid."
She leaned into him. "I'm not lonely and not afraid. Especially not now." Her head found its place on his shoulder. "Because I'm with you."
He smiled and hugged her closer.
"How are the Starks?" she asked.
"Ah, good. Settled in their guest rooms. Stark is still overexcited about the house. He says 'hygge' is something he needs to understand, small things that make you happy even on a winter night." Loki paused. "I think the Grandmaster's potion with those gold flakes might still be working. He sees everything in bright colors now."
"Pepper will kill you tomorrow."
"I'll kidnap Stark for morning fishing. I asked Sven to prepare the boat."
Sylvie laughed softly. "Oh, my sailor. Don't overdo it. Stark will offer you an interior design job next, or make you his personal luxury yacht captain. He desperately wants to employ you."
"And I'll reject him again."
"Because it's Stark?"
"No." Loki's voice was firm but gentle. "Because I do what I want."
"Who would argue with Prince Loki?"
"You're part of the royal family too, you know."
Sylvie tilted her head up to look at him. "I prefer just to be your wife, Professor Odinson. And mother to your three very unusual children."
He sighed. "I found another of Flox's weapons caches in the garden. I'm going to kill Thor one day."
"No, you won't." She smiled. "You love him. And he loves you and his nephews."
"Valkyrie said Jane Foster became the new owner of a resurrected Mjolnir."
"Yes. Thor's in space again, another journey with her. And another chapter for your New Asgard history."
Sylvie hesitated, then decided to speak.
"About Flox." She chose her words carefully. "I think he just wants to be prepared. For the next time. He never really moved past what happened with Hela. He still believes it was his fault – being kidnapped and putting you into her trap."
Loki was quiet for a moment.
"There will be more mistakes in his future. That's inevitable. There's no point in regretting." He stared at the blackness in distance. "Mistakes make us who we are. I wonder how Odin managed me at Flox's age without sentencing me to something worse." A pause. "I was lucky. He became a restrained man after Hela."
Sylvie squeezed his hand. "Now you understand your father."
Loki smiled. "Love your grandchildren – they'll be the ones to avenge you on your children."
She laughed, bright, free and happy.
He answered with his smile, calm and reassuring.
"Sylvie … I want to ask you." Her heart tightened. Yet his face remained relaxed, carrying that same look of trust and quiet adoration he had always reserved for her.
"Please tell me about him. That man in the End of Time. With whom I seem to share a strong magical connection, and an even stronger one in spirit. Who is he?" She was silent and he pressed. "It's okay, darling, you can tell me. I promise I won't freak out."
What a dreadful choice of words. You've spent too much time with Stark.
"Won't you?" she said, then stopped. The moment she did, his eyes lit with delight.
There you are, his eyes told her.
Yes, Sylvie. You slipped, her mind admitted.
But his smile was not only reassuring, it was warm and … kind.
"I slipped, I know," she confessed. He smirked.
"But why now?" she asked tentatively.
"Because I'm finally home. You are my home, Sylvie."
"Okay," Sylvie said, smiling as she relaxed a bit. She prepared herself.
Oh, Mobius. You've been assigned this task. Now you owe me.
"It all began in New York when you took the Tesseract."
"Oh, Norns..." Loki groaned. "Not again."
She laughed. "No, Professor. You asked."
For a moment he closed his eyes.
Then he sighed.
"Go on."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Tell me my story."
Loki settled deeper beside her. They shared the warmth of one another's presence and the almost matching rhythm of their hearts. Nearby, the young Yggdrasil tree shimmered with a diffuse blue light.
The stars drifted silently over the blackness of the open sea.
And for the first time, Loki was ready to hear his own Odyssey.