Summary:
Loki has been falling for a long, long time. He didn't even know what to do with himself once he managed to land.
Notes:
Ya'll. This update is like...over 9k words can you believe? Normally I'd cut a chapter that long in half but because I've kept you waiting for so long on a Cliff hanger I just gave you the full thing.
Loki's fall began long before that day on the Bifrost. It began, on a sunny hill outside the city of Asgard, mourning in Odin's arms. His mind had been overwrought with grief and denial, weak from pointless magical exertion. Pointless because it had failed. From that moment, the moment in which he knew he'd failed, and that Ralston and the other humans were gone, from that very second on Loki had started to fall. He fell into denial there on that hill, begging Odin for it not to be true.
After that first day, he began to fall into despair. He spent the first century falling in Asgard. He just wandered the halls of the palace like a specter. Each thing he saw reminded him of all that he lost and all that he never got the chance to have. His favorite Aesir food tasted like dust because he remembered sneaking some to earth to share with his friend. The other food tasted worse because he'd never gotten the chance to see Ralston's face when he tried it. Every waking moment was filled with painful memories or torturous regret.
Eventually that falling transformed from pure pain to something tainted with rage and regret. Thor and Frigga, the two people in Asgard who had done their best to slow Loki's fall were the first to witness this new sort of fall. The kind where he blamed everyone for what had happened, but most of all himself. Why hadn't Frigga foreseen this tragedy and warned him? What good were seers for? Why hadn't Thor pulled his head out of his ass and helped? Isn't that what warriors were meant to do? Protect the people weaker than them?
Why hadn't Loki been better? Why hadn't he spoken to Odin and asked for help earlier? Why hadn't he stayed on earth and fought to the very end? Why hadn't he come up with a plan? Why hadn't he foreseen how fast the muggles would act? Why hadn't he protected Ralston better?
Why? Why? Why? WHY? WHY?
Was he truly so useless? So pointless a god that he couldn't even save his people? Those wonderful magical mortals that had needed him and why hadn't he been enough for them? He cursed himself in the night and his sleep was wracked with nightmares of the torture, the burnings that his people had gone through, unable to defend themselves. In the day he spit venom at anyone who neared him, forcing them to feel the same level of poisonous grief and guilt that he did.
The questions haunted him, burned his very soul with a scorching flame. But no answers ever came and in their absence a bitter resentment took root in his heart. The farther he fell the stronger that bitterness grew. Every year they moved closer to Thor's coronation the hatred for Odin, for Thor, for every damn god in the pantheon grew.
Loki tried to forget his plans, the half-formed ones that would haunt him in his dreams like phantoms. Plans of creating a new hidden realm on earth, one where magic users could be free. One where he could live with Ralston and his wife, and their children. Where he could forget about Asgard and just be Loki, brother of Ralston. He dreamed of a house, a home that he knew had been real at one point but was no more, where a bedroom was always set aside for him. Where he was wanted. Sometimes, on particularly cruel nights, he dreamed of two golden apples that he'd stolen from Indunn's Garden when no one was looking and hidden in Ralston's house, for Ralston and his wife. A fantastic vision of what would never be. An eternity with his two great friends, made gods by his stolen gift.
Those plans weren't real, just the feverish wantings of a falling man.
As the years passed Loki fell out of despair and fully into rage. The cruel whispers of the court and Thor's growing pride stung worse than they ever had before. Loki now knew what it was to be loved and valued, he also knew what it was to lose such a thing. Without Ralston and with the torment of his death, Loki was too vulnerable to Asgard's scorn. That scorn watered the seed of resentment in his chest until he fell further and further all the way into treason.
He could claim, and he actually had at one point, that the plan with the Frost Giants had been because he knew Thor wasn't ready for the throne. It was true enough. Thor hadn't been ready. But that wasn't why Loki did it. Any love he held for Asgard had been eroding away for 4 centuries at that point. Asgard having a good or terrible king meant nothing to him. In fact, Loki might have even enjoyed watching Asgard fall down around it's ears under Thor's 'leadership'.
But Loki enjoyed revenge even more.
He brought those Frost Giants into the vault during Thor's coronation because he wanted to ruin the day for the arrogant fool. He wanted Thor to suffer even just a little. Thor loved the idea of being king with almost the same fervor that Loki had loved the magical people of earth. Almost, because nothing could ever compare to Loki's love. Being denied the throne, even if only for a little, would be just as delicious to Loki as it would be painful to Thor.
What happened after was just the straw the broke the camel's back. He finally had his answers. He'd failed the earth and Ralston because he was a Jontun runt. Not even good enough for monsters to care for. A monster that's what he was. And monsters didn't save, they destroyed. The sharp truth of that started his fall into madness. And really? Wasn't letting go of Gungir and falling into the void just the most logical conclusion to all of this falling? It was about time he made it literal.
The void was everything Asgard wasn't. It was empty of anything close to wealth or vanity. Gone were the constant rumors of war, bloodshed, and arrogance. Replacing those things with nothingness. Because the void was nothing. True blackness, not even the vast cosmos of space to distract him from the festering wounds within his soul. Wasn't that the point of it, in the end? The void was a perfect place for a monster to rot and decay further into madness.
Loki didn't stop falling even when he was caught by The Other and the Chitauri. Physically yes, he was no longer falling through a never-ending, madness-inducing blackness but their treatment of him ensured that his heart and soul continued in their ungraceful, painful descent.
It was important to note however that The Other was the first being that made Loki truly want to stop his fall.
Not due to any kindness from him, or understanding words. No. It was the beast's cruelty that made Loki pause, truly pause for the first time in his centuries long fall to try and slow down. Because The Other and the rest of those who followed the Mad Titan wanted something that not even a falling monster like himself would agree to. They wanted to destroy the earth, rob her of whatever treasures she held, and leave the humans to rot.
At the very mention of their plan Loki had started to fight, scrambling to stop his fall by any means necessary. Ralston! He could never betray the man's memory! It was Ralston who had begged Loki not to destroy the muggles, who had wanted nothing more than peace and mercy for both sides of the conflict. Ralston, his soul screamed trying to use the very name as a method of flight.
But Loki had been falling for far too long, he must have reached terminal velocity centuries ago. He couldn't stop the fall, couldn't stop the torture they used to speed it up either. With everyone one of his screamed-out denials they pushed him further with pain and threats and promises of future torture. He scratched at the walls of his confinement so hard his nails were pulled out of their beds trying to escape before he fell too far and right into the place Ralston had lived.
Then one day, Loki didn't know he was falling anymore.
He'd thought he'd finally landed.
The Other had whispered threats if he failed and placed a scepter in his hands. The moment the cool metal touched the skin of his palms the sensation of falling halted. His eyes began to glow blue for half a moment as he landed, his final destination a conqueror and destroyer of the only world that mattered to him anymore. Gone was the resentful weed he had in his chest instead of his heart. Forgotten was the centuries of painful grief and mourning. Now all he had was a thirst for vengeance against the norns, against Odin, against Thor. Against earth.
Against everything!
It wasn't mind control, not really. He was still Loki. He still remembered everything that had happened to him. He could still choose what he wanted to do. At least he was quite sure he remembered everything, that he could make the choices he wanted. But all that mattered once he'd touched the scepter was the rage that had been brewing in him since he'd started falling. For the first time since he saw Ralston killed right before his eyes, the ground felt sturdy beneath his feet.
It made it easy to open up the branches of the Yggdrasil and walk the familiar paths to his once beloved home. One tiny, almost suffocated part of him tried to fight every single step he took but he ignored in favor of the whispered words that promised peace and power if he took over the planet. These useless muggles had killed Ralston and his wife and his young children and all that mattered now was making them pay. No more mercy and no more tears.
There would be justice and there would be silence.
Loki didn't realize he was still falling, farther and farther from the light and love that Ralston had gifted him all those years ago until the invasion had started and he found himself with a broken spine laying in a Loki-shaped crater, courtesy of one bright green beast. Why was it green anyway? No, don't think about that now, think about surviving. Loki laid there in that hole, surrounding by crumbling marble and felt the blue that had tinted his vision recede with the pain.
He was still falling, and he deserved it. He'd become the monster he truly was, and he'd betrayed the only person who had ever truly mattered. Ralston would never forgive him for leading Thanos here, for killing humans and stealing their eyeballs. Ralston would have fought alongside the Avengers and he wouldn't have hesitated to take Loki down with the very spells Loki had taught him when they were both children.
He closed his eyes, his spine slowly knitting itself back together. Around him, New York screamed in chaos as its buildings were attacked and its people killed. The Chitauri worked quickly it seemed. He remembered in that moment with a crystal clarity that hadn't been available to him in some time exactly what Ralston looked like.
Black messy hair that he kept short at the nap of his neck and slightly longer on the top, so that it's ends covered the tips of his ears. It curled and stuck out in every direction humanly possible no matter what he did to try to tame it. That pale milk white skin that was marred only by the scars he'd gained over the years, from his tumultuous youth to his heroic adulthood. His short stature and petite frame that Loki enjoyed teasing him about even if it had been caused by malnutrition as a child. His green eyes that were always partially hidden behind those hideous spectacles. Loki could even recall the green and gold armor that Ralston always worn when they went to fight.
It was a gift from Loki, one that Loki had had commission back in Asgard after Ralston had been hurt in a fight against some muggle knight templars. It was made of Uru and crafted by the greatest armor smith in the nine realms. Green was Loki's color, and gold was one of Ralston's colors, the silly Gryffindor. So, Loki had commissioned the armor in both and enchanted it himself to protect against anything he could think of. He'd even had two hooks added on the top of the chest plate for Ralston to attach his silly invisibility cloak to.
Not that the armor had saved his friend when it mattered most.
Loki remembered it anyway. How it had looked on his small human friend, how it made him look powerful and unstoppable. Ralston had joked sometimes that with it on he could have been mistaken for a god himself. A memory of Ralston standing in a forested clearing, surrounded by enemies with his sword raised in one hand and his wand in the other hit him full force and a sob escaped his mouth. He would've blamed it on the broken spine if anyone had been in the room with him at the time to hear it.
Loki laid there, falling and falling, as the invasion began to draw to a close. It took Loki seeing the man he'd thrown out a window fall out of the closing portal to move. Slowly he pulled himself up, still sore and weak, and stumbled to the roof of the building. It was deserted but for an unconscious Selvig and the device Loki had used to open the portal. Carefully Loki picked up the tesseract from where it was nestled inside and the scepter from where it had been dropped. Foolish mortals for leaving them behind.
He had failed Ralston in all the ways that mattered. He looked down at the group of heroes who had done what Loki had never been truly capable of and then at the destruction he had wrought. The scepter hummed in his hand promising him things he knew he didn't want, and he pushed down the blue that threatened rise.
"I'm sorry Ralston."
There was only one thing left for Loki to do. He had to hide these things so that Thanos never found them and then...then he could just keep falling. Loki closed his eyes and opened up the Yggdrasil once more, he wanted to go someplace far away, someplace safe. He took a step forward and tumbled out all too quickly. Instead of some barren meteor that no one would ever see in the middle of nowhere he fell into an overrun garden.
He looked up from his position in a sharp-thorned rose bush and a strangled cry erupted from him. He knew exactly where he was.
"Ralston."
He scrambled up to the old house, the home he and Ralston had built together, having totally forgotten about the two weapons of mass destruction he'd just stolen. Aside from the creeping plants and the dust on the windows it looked exactly as Loki remembered, down to the type of wood they'd chosen for the door. It was impossible but Loki could feel the wards he'd placed on the property still humming around him. How could it be?
He opened the back door, it swung open on slightly creaky hinges and he gaped. Everything was just as it should have been. Centuries worth of dust covered every surface and Loki blamed the tears streaming down his cheeks on the coughing he was doing due to the dust. Every step he took sent huge puffs of dust into the air, proving what he'd always known. No one was here waiting for him. There never had been. He stumbled up the stairs and pushed open the door on the right, the one that belonged to him.
Loki shouldn't have been surprised that his cleaning spells had held up for so long but he was. His bedroom was literally just as he left it. Not a speck of dust, not even a little decay on his blanket that Amaryllis, Ralston's wife, had made him for Yule all those centuries ago. Loki creeped slowly over to the bed, weakened and injured beyond belief. He fell face first onto the bed. The blanket still smelt of the soap Ralston always made to clean things with.
Abruptly he stopped falling. There was no where else to fall to, no where else to run. He had been falling all these years back to Midgard, back to where things mattered. An inhuman noise escaped him as he curled into a small, pitiful ball. It was a noise of pure grief and pain, something that would have torn at any soul unlucky enough to hear it. But Loki was alone, he always would be.
Loki began to cry, to scream, to truly mourn. He tore at his armor, his godly strength ripping at the hardened leather. He screamed at the fates, at Ralston, at himself and he let himself grieve. Tears burnt hot and purifying tracks down his face and his throat felt raw and swollen. Yet he could not stop crying, would not stop. He would cry until he shriveled up and died.
Eventually he lost consciousness, exhausted from the failed invasion, his wounds, and the hours of writhing agony he put himself through. When he woke up, a week had passed, and his injuries had mostly healed themselves. He felt weak and dizzy from dehydration and hunger. When was the last time he ate? The last time he drank? When was the last time he felt this raw? His hours of crying on that bed had stripped him of the armor he'd built up and then let him land hard without any protection. He felt as if he were spinning and far too vulnerable.
He stumbled down to the kitchen, unsurprised to find it barren and dusty. He managed to find one of Ralston's mugs and filled it with water from the nearby well, it still has the sweetest tasting water in all of Britain. Once he did that, he remembered the blasted infinity stones he'd stolen and cursed. He rushed back and breathed a sigh of relief at finding them sitting there, happy as clams on the top of a giant ancient rose bush.
"I remember planting this." He whispered to himself. "Ralston don't you remember? Amaryllis complained that the garden was boring, that she didn't want to just grow herbs and carrots...so I went all around the world and found as many different flowers as I could and you and I...we planted them all together. All except Amaryllises of course."
He laughed a little remembering the beautiful woman's giggle when she'd woken up to find them covered in dirt and passed out in her new gigantic garden. She'd been only slightly displeased that her namesake hadn't made the cut. He looked around the garden and saw that many of those flowers, the ones that had a lifespan longer than a season at least, had survived. A miracle perhaps.
He spent the next week in the garden, eating fruit from the fruit trees that they'd planted once, and bringing the unkempt garden back to rights. He stowed the infinity stones in the coat closet and he worked in some old trousers and a shirt he found. He spoke to Ralston and Amaryllis and their children. At first it was only apologies but then...then he told them about falling and mourning and hating.
Then he apologized some more.
He knew that the Avengers were looking for him, that Thor would scour the realms for him. That Hiemdall's eye would never stop searching. But Loki found he didn't care at that moment. He was still oddly fragile in the following weeks after the invasion. He felt as if he'd been reborn in some odd way, and now he had to be careful lest his new heart be cut by something. Loki had fallen to the very depths and now he felt that he could stay there in the safety of his landing place and never leave it. No one would find him beneath these wards anyway.
After the garden Loki went back inside, he kept up a monologue to his long dead friend as he cleaned the house and fixed what had been broken over the years of disuse. It took time because he refused to use magic, this was something he had to do with his hands. He had to touch each surface to prove that it was real and not some desperate hallucination.
The first time he left the Potter Home was when he grew tired of fruit and everything was clean. He carefully used magic to hide his identity and then he ventured to the nearest muggle city. Even then, two months after the invasion, all the news could talk about was the tragedy he'd caused. Loki threw up the first real meal he'd had in ages right at the table of the small restaurant he'd crawled into. He left the half un-eaten plate and the vomit right there before the waitress even knew what had happened.
He tried again a week later, this time a town farther away. He bought food, a lot of it, with fake conjured money and tried his best not to take in information about the Avengers and his failures. It didn't work and he returned to the Potter Home, feeling angry for the first time since coming there. Loki had fallen and found peace, but even this lovely protected place couldn't keep his demons at bay forever.
Loki didn't even know exactly what it was he was angry at. Himself? Thor? Odin? The Avengers who had stopped him from destroying Ralston's world? All he did know was that he was angry. He wanted to destroy something, he looked around at the home he thought he'd never see again and knew he couldn't stay, not until the anger left. He abandoned his groceries and went out to find a fight.
To call the following fights he had with the Avengers in the next year tantrums would be accurate, even if Loki would die before admitting it. He appeared only to cause chaos, his mind his own just enough to keep from going too far, to keep from killing any humans or heroes. He just had so much rage to burn away, all the rage he'd been letting fester and rot inside of him and he just had to get rid of it. Anytime it grew too much he'd leave his safehouse in the British Countryside and threaten to blow something up until Thor appeared and he could fight him with all his viciousness.
The Avengers hated him, and Loki swore to himself that the feeling was mutual. A lie. Of course, it was. Each Avenger, the human ones at least, had a part of them that reminded him of Ralston, and he wanted to hate them for it but found he couldn't. Barton's archaic weaponry and excellent aim reminded him of how talented Ralston had been with his spells and bow. Stark's creativity and curiosity, along with the short stature and slightly messy hair, smacked of Ralston in all the most painful ways. Rogers had the same heroic heart as Ralston. Romanoff's lack of biological family and her love of the family she had found was...well Loki tried not to think of it. Loki even saw something of Ralston in Banner of all people. There was a time that Ralston had hated the power he'd been born with just as much as Banner hated his beast.
Loki could never hate the humans who had bits and pieces of his best friend in them. Besides they were the only people on this planet who could give him the release he needed. So, he made sure never to hurt them too much. He knew all too well how fragile humans were. Sometimes, when he wasn't being blinded with rage, he even helped those heroes. Not that they ever noticed it. A spell here and there in their battles to keep them from snapping their necks in a fall or keeping debris from crushing their squishable bodies.
That was his schedule now. He'd pitter and patter around the Potter Home, talking to the invisible ghosts of his friends about what they'd missed in the last 400 years interspersed with apologies. When he left it was either to get food or to attack something, anything at all. The scepter and tesseract remained hidden in that closet, beneath a coat that had fallen to the floor at some point in the last 400 years. Every time he spoke with a human, either in a village or in a fight he saw flashes of the humans he loved and did his best to ignore the hurt.
Which brought Loki to the present day. An oddly sunny evening in a small English town, he'd just ordered a nice large dinner from an inn restaurant. He went out to eat when he was feeling bored but not homicidally enraged. He'd go in disguise and pay for his meal with some of Stark's money that he'd stolen when the billionaire wasn't looking. He hadn't attacked the Avengers in about two or three months now and knew he'd want to get into some sort of fight soon enough.
There was a small ancient tv stuck on the wall playing a football game, around him in the inn a majority of the customers were watching it and cheering for the team dressed in red. Just as Loki was about to tuck into a wonderfully cooked steak someone shouted out that they should change to the news channel.
"There's been an attack on the Avengers, there has!"
The Avengers despite being mostly American were the world's heroes and most people around the globe watched their fights with interest. These superhumans were their line of defense against the evils of the nine realms, why wouldn't they be interested? Loki didn't look up as the channel changed. Instead he began cutting into the steak that gave way to his knife like it was made of butter. He closed his eyes in appreciation of the taste and then heard a shout of shock from the crowd.
He looked up at the screen and saw something that horrified him to his bones.
The Black Order.
All four of them! They were here, on earth! And Loki knew exactly what they were here for. The tesseract, the scepter and Loki's immortal soul. He watched as Cull Obsidian punched the Hulk so hard in the face that he flew back and landed on the ground, unmoving and beginning to grow smaller and less green. Off to the far side of the screen he saw Thor fighting Ebony Maw and being stabbed with those damnable black shards that man carried with him everywhere. The camera zoomed around to show Romanoff being thrown by Proxima Midnight while Stark fired weapons from his suit to try and protect his teammates.
Something whispered in Loki's ear, a voice he hadn't heard in 400 years but was still as familiar to him as his own.
Well what are you doing sitting there? There are people to save!
Loki swallowed down his mostly chewed bite of steak and placed the knife onto the table. He couldn't. If he went, the Black Order would take him and torture him until he told them where the two infinity stones were. They wouldn't kill him, and Loki was damn sure he'd never tell. So...it would be a torturous eternity indeed for him. He couldn't risk it, he wouldn't. Not even for Thor and the others that reminding him so much of his dear friend.
Loki, you've spent all this time falling. Maybe, it's time to rise?
Ralston's voice pushed him up to stand, his chair sliding back and hitting the person who was sitting at the table behind him.
"Mate! Sit down! You're blocking the screen."
Don't worry, my friend. I'll be right there with you.
Loki's hands fisted themselves and he let the glamor on him fall. No longer was he a short mousy blonde man. Instead he was a god, the god of mischief and magic and fire, golden horns and all. The person behind him screamed but Loki didn't bother to turn around. Instead he closed his eyes, prayed to Ralston, and let the fire of his teleportation take him away.
Loki landed a moment later in Central Park, mere tens of feet from where the fighting was. Just far enough away not to be noticed immediately. His eyes spotted the injured Avengers in the first 1/4th of a second he was there, they were still trying to fight but most of them were sporting serious wounds. Two were even unconscious. Then he noticed the presence that was right next to him during the rest of that first second. He flipped around at the same time she did.
"What are you doing here?" They both hissed at each other at the same time.
She was a mortal, a human, of that he was certain. She was dressed in a fancy dress with her black, the same shade as Ralson's hair was, hair up in a stylish braided bun. She was short. The same height as Ralston. He pushed the useless thoughts about how this woman's skin was the same color as Ralston's and how she also had bright green eyes just like his.
"I said." Loki hissed. "What are you doing here, you useless mortal?"
She glared at him in an uncanny resemblance to Ralston's glare.
"I asked the same thing of you!" She snapped. "I'm here to save the Avengers!"
"Save the Avengers? Truly? Do you even know them?"
"Of course, I know them. I'm...I'm their cleaning lady." Her cheeks had splotches of red on them, just like Ralston's used to do when he grew too frustrated with something.
Loki laughed, just quietly enough not to be overheard.
"A servant! Ha, you mortals grow stupider by the day."
"Just tell me what the hell you're doing here!" She demanded.
"I'm here to gain my revenge against the Black Order."
"Who?"
"The aliens who are pummeling your employers." Loki said. "Now, don't get in my way. If you want to save them then get them out of here while I deal with the refuse."
"Now wait just a minute!" She said.
"No. There's no time for me to pander to your delusions. Do what I've said, mortal."
Any human who bore such a terribly striking resemblance to Ralston should be protected. Part of Loki wanted to magic the woman back to the Potter Home, so she'd be safe and sound. But there wasn't time. He stalked forward, conjured a knife into his hands. He heard the woman curse at him from behind and then start moving in another direction towards where the injured Avengers had gathered around together.
Loki threw a knife and hit true right into the side of Ebony Maw who was questioning Thor rather painfully. The knife lodged itself quite deep and the alien stumbled before turning to see Loki in all his glory.
"Oh." He snarled. "It's the traitor."
"Now there's no need for name calling, Maw." Loki drawled. "I can hardly be a traitor to an organization I don't give a damn about."
All four members of the Black Order turned to look at him. The Avengers safe for a moment. Loki could see the woman was adept at sneaking and was quite close to getting to them. Thor, the idiot didn't move away though, he just looked at Loki like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
"We gave you power, we gave you an army." Corvus Glaive growled.
"No." Loki said, his magic pooling green in his hands. "No, you tortured me and you expected me to be obedient. That was stupid."
"You could have had this planet for your own." Proxima Midnight told him as if he were the stupid one. "Our Father would have rewarded you with it if you'd given him what he needed."
"Your father" Loki repeated in his snarkiest tone. "is a madman and I will never serve him. The tesseract and the scepter are far beyond his reach now."
"You will tell us where you've hidden them." Ebony Maw threatened. "Or I will rend your skin from your bones."
"Oh, Go fuck yourself."
And with those eloquent words the battle truly began. Maw sent out an entire wall made of black shards at him that Loki teleported out of the way of. He appeared right in front of Cull Obsidian who attempted to punch his head off. Loki lifted up a conjured magical shield to block the hit but stumbled from the force anyway. In the same movement he sent a knife directly into the right eye of the beast. Cull screamed and swatted out again. Loki dodged and teleported. He conjured three duplicates to appear with him and began to tease at the Black Order. He just had to hold the creatures off long enough to get the Avengers to safety.
He appeared behind Proxima and used a magically created spear to swing at her. She sensed him a second too late and he managed to get one hit in before she flipped around and began to swing right back at him. Around him, his illusions distracted the other three. He needed to down them all quickly. He shot a wall of flames at the woman who managed to dodge that while swinging at him with her magical spear.
They traded blows for a few minutes before Loki heard something come up behind him. He teleported just in time to dodge Glaive's attack. Unfortunately, his illusions were not as effective on the Black Order as they were on stupider foes. He sent out a blinding spell to both of the spear wielding aliens and teleported into the air, just in time to miss being hit by more of Maw's telekinetic attacks.
He appeared ten feet in the air right above Cull, the only brute stupid enough to have not figured out which Loki was the real one. Loki flew right down and stabbed his spear into the beast's back, hopefully into its spine. Cull bellowed and reach back and managed to grab Loki by the neck. He flung him into the air and Loki transformed into a bird and righted himself before he landed on a tree.
As a bird he had to fly around and dodge Maw throwing every available thing he could find at him with his telekinesis. He dove low to the ground and transformed back into his aesir form with a roll. He sent a blast of magic at Maw that hit him dead on, sending him tumbling to the ground. With Maw's concentration broken he dropped all of the debris and it landed with loud thuds around them. Loki cast a shield over his head to keep himself from getting hit.
From his left and right Proxima and Glaive came at him. Loki reached out with another spear and swept Glaive's feet out from under him and then rolled to dodge Proxima's downward stroke. He teleported again to slightly higher ground and thrust out at Proxima again. She hissed at him to stop teleporting, as if he would.
He started dueling both of the aliens as Maw got his bearings again. Loki used his skill with a spear as best he could to keep Glaive and Proxima at a safe distance. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see the cleaning lady help the Avengers up and move farther away from the danger. Good, at least she wasn't hurt. He didn't know what he'd do if the woman who looked so much like Ralston was hurt.
He paid dearly for his distracted thoughts when Cull managed to hit him and send him flying into a tree. Loki grunted with pain as he felt a few of his ribs snap, but managed to get up anyway. Maw hit him with some of the shards, they cut through his armor and pierced his stomach. He groaned and ripped out the offending items, so that his magic could stitch him back together. Another, much larger shard hit him just below his lungs before he could dodge it. It sent him flying back into the tree, pinning him there painfully.
Blood trickled down from the wounds and he squirmed against the pain. All four members of the Black Order converged onto him and Loki knew he should teleport away.
"A good fight." Proxima said. "But not good enough, was it runt?"
The pain made it hard to concentrate and something whispered in his ear, Ralston again.
Wait. It's almost time.
What?
"You think it's over?" He coughed out, well aware the thing lodged in his chest was millimeters away from cutting into his lungs.
"Don't bother with the bold words." Maw said. "And sit still, I need to know where you've hidden the things you stole from our Father."
Maw lifted up a hand and Loki felt the mental attack. He did everything he could to shore up his occulmency shields as Maw's power bore down on him.
"Hey!" The Cleaning Lady shouted. "Over here!"
Inwardly he cursed even as the attack receded. Maw turned while ordering Cull to watch Loki. He looked between the legs of the Black Order to see the woman, still here and in her, nice and not at all appropriate for a battle, dress, standing in front of the injured Avengers. There wasn't a trace of fear in her eyes.
"Mortal." Maw growled. "Leave before I kill you in the name of our Father."
"Your dad? Are you telling me that all four of you have the same dad?" She asked in disbelief. "What the bloody hell does he look like then?"
"Speak not of our father." Proxima ordered. "He is far too great for the likes of mortals."
"Right. Right. Still doesn't answer my question. Who is he and how did he father all of you? Cause I'm just saying he must be really, really-"
"Our Father is Thanos, Destroyer of Worlds and Lover of Death." Maw interrupted. "And he has sent us to prepare this world as a sacrifice for his Mistress. All life on this world will be taken and gifted to Death herself, in the name of Thanos."
"Lover of Death?" The woman repeated as if that was the disturbing thing about what Maw just said. "Wow! I didn't even know Death could have a lover. Tell me, how does someone even have sex with an entity like that? Your dad must either be really sexually creative or..."
Maw, with his mind, lifted up shards to destroy this stupid, foolhardy human. She didn't seem to notice as she trailed off. Then she clapped her hands together as if she'd had a realization.
"Wait! I know why you four are here! Father's Day is coming up in just a couple of months! You must be here for a gift for him, right? And what better gift to give a lover of Death than the Deathly Hallows?"
Instantly the shards lowered themselves in shock. The Deathly Hallows were Thanos' true passion, three objects that promised control of Death. But they were more myth than fact, weren't they? Collecting the Infinity Stones and destroying all life in the universe to win Death's affection was by far a more attainable goal. How did the mortal even know about those?
"Did you say the Deathly Hallows?" Maw demanded.
"I did!" She said smiling like the were all sitting around having a nice brunch. "You know the Death Stick, The Resurrection stone, and Death's cloak. Three items that when owned by one person, create the Master of Death."
What was this woman doing? How did she know of them? Why was she telling these obviously evil people about them?
"How do you know of the Hallows?" Proxima asked.
"Well some clever sod hid them all here on earth about 2000 years ago, can you believe?" She asked. "Most humans know where they are because they let off this terrible feeling, we can't even pick them up because our bodies can't handle the strain. I think we'd all be much happier if someone were to take them off planet."
A lie. That last part had been a lie. Why? Loki focused on the Ralston-Look-A-Like who was smiling as if she was completely daft. Maw lowered his weapons entirely and tried to make his horrific squid-like face into something friendly.
"Of course." He soothed, believing her lie without problem. "You poor humans would certainly want those things in the hands of someone worthy of them."
"Exactly!" She said before clapping again, this time in excitement. "I've got an idea! How about I show you the Hallows. If you get them for your dad, then surely you can leave without hurting the Avengers or Loki anymore right?"
"You have our word." Proxima said. "If you show us the Hallows then we will leave this planet without doing any more harm to the runt or the heroes."
"Really? Oh, that's so nice of you!" She chirped. "Alright then! Just give me a moment and I'll show them to you."
She turned slightly to look at the Avengers, more specifically at Tony Stark.
"Jarvis." She said. "Would you mind terribly playing that song I told you about?"
"Right now, Miss?" said the computer butler Stark had in his suit, the poor thing sounded as confused as Loki felt.
"Yes of course, loud as you can please."
"What are you doing, mortal?" Maw demanded.
"Just what I said I'd do. I'm showing you the Hallows. In fact, I'm going to be very gracious and do more than just show you them. I'm going to give you a practical demonstration. I think by the time this song is over, you'll know exactly what mortals are capable of."
Loki realized the trick the same moment the Black Order did. The Ralston-Look-A-Like transformed from a petite woman in a nice dress in a flash to a woman who looked so much like Ralston that it hurt. Gone was the dress and the nicely done hair. Instead she was wearing armor that looked like Ralston's but with one new addition. A holder had been added onto the chest plate that held a large black stone right below where her collar bone would be. There was a familiar looking invisibility cloak hanging from the hooks on the shoulders and in the woman's hands were a silver sword and a wooden wand made of elder.
"Ralston?" He choked out, blood trickling from his mouth and down his chin.
In the next moment music began to blast loudly from Stark's suit. Holly smirked as a chorus began to sing with clapping in the background.
Uh-uh Ay-ay. Uh-uh Ay-ay. Uh-uh Ay-ay. Ey-ey-ey-ey-ey.
Maw and the others hefted their weapons.
"Impossible."
"Oh, darling." She said." Nothing's impossible."
I'm living' in that 21st century
Doing something mean to it
Do it better than anybody you ever seen do it
Screams from the haters, got a nice ring to it
I guess every superhero need his theme music.
With those first words of the song Ralston, for it must be him, attacked. He, or was it she, teleported forward right into Maw's space and began to rapidly fire a rainbow of spells at the alien. Proxima swung her spear at Ralston but he merely lifted up his sword and let the metal slice through Proxima's spear. Something that was supposedly impossible. The top half of Proxima's spear fell to the ground with a dull thud while she screamed in rage at having her father's gift destroyed. Maw was attempting to dodge the literal barrage of magic and had to fly himself away to keep from being overwhelmed.
No one man should have all that power
The clock's ticking', I just count the hours
Stop tripping', I'm tripping' off the power
(21st century schizoid man)
Ralston turned his rage onto Proxima, letting Maw retreat, but was grabbed by his long hair by Cull. The hulking beast, half blind with a spear still in his back looked murderous. Proxima and Glaive skittered away, looking pleased that Cull was winning the battle for them. Cull lifted him up and shook him like a ragdoll. Ralston's face twisted in pain and lifted up his sword. Not to Cull but to his long hair.
"Did you know?" He asked, looking Cull dead in the eye. "That there are about 100,000 hairs on the human head? I wonder what would happen if I put my transfiguration skills to use on that much material?"
Then Ralston cut his hair off, right at the nape, to the length it had been 400 years ago. Immediately Ralston dropped to the ground while at the same time saying a few Latin words. The bundle of long black hair in Cull's hand expanded and began to writhe and lengthen out. Each hair that had been on Ralston's head turned into a snake. The snakes slithered and crawled over Cull, the behemoth tried pulling the snakes off but there were just too many of them.
Cull screamed as the snakes began to bite him in droves, he stumbled back as venom was spit into his mouth, eyes, and nose. He looked no longer like a beastly alien but instead a den of 100,000 snakes feeding on one meal. Some of the snakes, a fair amount of them slithered away from the struggling Cull and towards the other Black Order members. Ralston shook his head at the loss of the weight and then looked over at the Order members.
Loki choked at how Ralston looked. There was no doubt it was him. Even if he was much more powerful than he had been before. The amount of magical skill required to do that many rapid transfigurations at once was insane.
In this white man's world, we the ones chosen
So goodnight, cruel world, I see you in the mornin'
Huh? I see you in the mornin'
This is way too much, I need a moment
"Now." Ralston said. "Who's next?"
All three of the Black Order members attempted to bum rush Ralston but he just clicked his tongue, something Loki barely heard over the blaring music. Ralston flicked the Death Stick and hissed at the same time. All of the free snakes immediately began to slither towards Proxima, who was still weaponless, while the earth itself lifted up and transfigured into a stone hand that grabbed at Maw like a cat trying to catch a fly. Maw started to dodge and attack the hand while Proxima picked up the sharp half of her spear and started fighting off the plague of snakes.
Glaive was the only one who made it to Ralston. Ralston immediately used his sword one handed to fight against the magic spear. Glaive used his spear to fire bolts of energy at him that Ralston dodged or teleported out of the way of with ease. Just like Loki had taught him. Ralston hit Glaive with a spell that made his legs turn to metaphorical jelly. The alien fell to his knees but still managed to swing and block with his spear.
Ralston moved closer and closer, dancing around the swinging weapon until he managed a lucky hit with his sword, chopping the Uru weapon in half like Loki had cut up his steak less than thirty minutes before. With the weapon gone and his legs useless Glaive still caught Ralston at the knee with his hands and sent him tumbling. Ralston literally dropped both his weapons with a smirk and lunged at the alien for some hand to hand combat.
Meanwhile Maw had damaged part of the stone magical hand and Proxima had been bitten three times by the snakes she was chopping in half. Each snake she killed just turned back into a piece of long black hair.
I just needed time alone, with my own thoughts
Got treasures in my mind but couldn't open up my own vault
My childlike creativity, purity and honesty
Is honestly being crowded by these grown thoughts
Reality is catchin' up with me
Takin' my inner child, I'm fighting for its custody
With these responsibilities that they entrusted me
Ralston managed to slam Glaive to the ground, they were rolling around over and over. Exchanging punches and wrestling holds. Within thirty seconds Ralston had gained the upper hand against the much larger opponent and used all of his strength, probably augmented by some magic, to slam Glaive's head hard into the ground. Glaive immediately went limp and Ralston rolled off of him, right into Proxima who had gotten around the snakes and picked up Ralston's sword.
Ralston teleported out of the way and summoned the Death Stick, missing Proxima's swing by mere millimeters. He kept dodging the sword as if one mere cut would kill him and used magic against the woman. Proxima swiped at Ralston's waist and Ralston literally vaulted into the air to dodge it. He flipped over in the air sailing over Proxima's head. On his way down he fired a spell that blasted Proxima away and flat onto her back.
Proxima jumped up and the two danced around each other, both fast enough to mostly dodge the other. Behind them Maw had finished off his stone attacker and was now descending in the air towards Ralston. Loki cried out a warning in a pained strangled voice. Ralston managed to dodge Maw's black shards, one of which stabbed Proxima instead.
"You need to wait your turn!" Ralston said before casting a spell that conjured a plume of fire.
Fiendfyre.
The bright red flames coalesced into a dragon the size of a bus. It roared sending flames into the air and rushed at Maw who, wisely, tried to get the hell out of dodge. Ralston turned his back on the fiendfyre and continued his fight with Proxima. They were well matched for the first few seconds. But Ralston managed to disarm Proxima with an expelliarmus. Then with both sword and wand in hand, Ralston fired another spell that sent Proxima flying away.
She didn't get up again.
Lost in translation with a whole fuckin' nation
They say "How was the abomination of Obama's nation?"
Well that's a pretty bad way to start the conversation
At the end of day, g-ddammit I'm killin' this shit
I know damn well y'all feelin' this shit
With three of the four Black Order members taken care of, Ralston cricked his neck and faced Maw who had been doing his best to keep out of the fangs of the fearsome dragon. With a flick of his wand, the dragon began to shrink and fall back.
"Now come on!" She called out, teasing. "Didn't you want to see the Death Stick? I don't think you've gotten a good enough look from up there."
Maw did not listen to his taunts and stayed high in the air. He began to lift up wads of snakes, the earth and the trees from the park. He flung them at Ralston who either dodged, teleported, or transfigured the attacks into something harmless like bubbles or flower petals.
"Oh don't tell me you're scared of one little ol' mortal are you? Come on closer, or else I can't keep my end of the deal!"
Maw conjured his black shards of torture and sent them with unerring accuracy towards Ralston in response. The shards were mostly immune to magic, although some powerful spells could block them. Ralston figured that out after one resisted his transfiguration and cut up his cheek when he barely managed to dodge. Ralston started teleporting more rapidly after that, dropping his sword on the ground in his haste.
Ralston fired off a few spells, sending them out in a wave pattern, one of which clipped Maw and sent him to the ground. Maw scrambled to his feet, looking out of breath, the arrogance finally chased out of him. Ralston stalked over to the alien, wand raised and menace in his gait. Maw used his powerful telekinesis to lift up one broken spear and send it flying towards Ralston. Loki called out but his voice just distracted Ralston who took the spear directly to the side. It landed in between the two parts of the chest piece. Ralston stumbled back a few steps from the attack but managed to stay up. Maw walked over.
"You will pay for this, I will make it so for killing my siblings." He hissed, Ralston just stared at Maw for a moment, his face white with pain.
"You should have aimed for the head."
"What?"
"Accio." Ralston lifted up his free hand and his sword came flying from behind Maw and into his hand. The blade of the weapon slicing clean through Maw's neck.
Maw's head, still showing his last moment of surprise, fell to the ground and his body followed a moment after.
(21st century schizoid man)
The song ended at the same time Maw's body thumped to the ground. Ralston dropped his sword and lowered his wand.
"Holy shit." Stark said, breaking the silence. "Holly you okay?"
"Fine! I've had worse!" Ralston shouted back.
"That's hardly comforting." Rogers said.
"One second." Ralston lifted up his hand and carefully removed the spear, with a very pained grunt. Then he pointed the Death Stick at the bleeding hole in his side and began whispering spells. Some to numb pain, others to stop bleeding, and finally a few to mend a few vital organs. "There. I should be fine until I see a healer."
"Is there anything you can't do?" Stark asked.
"Uhm...Drive a car?"
Of course, Ralston can't drive a car, cars hadn't been invented for him yet. Why would he bother learning it now? Loki coughed up more blood, his wounds were worsening and he knew he would lose consciousness soon. Ralston immediately looked over at him, worry and concern painted over his familiar face. The lightning bolt scar was new though. Ralston ran over calling for Thor as he did so.
"Ralston." Loki muttered. "You're here."
"Loki, it's going to be fine." Ralston said.
Loki reached out and grabbed onto the hand he'd held so many times before, holding as tightly as he could.
"Ralston. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, I didn't. I swear. I just kept falling and falling and falling and there was...was no one to catch me."
Thor showed up as he spoke, looking frightened and worried at the gruesome wound in Loki's chest.
"Look, Loki. I have no idea what's you're talking about."
"Ralston." Loki said. "Please forgive me. Please. I can't bear..." Ralston stared at him for a moment before swallowing.
"Okay fine. I forgive you, but you can't do it again and...and you need to let me use some magic on you. Okay?"
His vision began to darken, Loki stopped fighting to keep conscious once he knew Ralston had forgiven him. His hand went slack but Ralston still held it up.
"You...you have never needed to ask..."
The last thing Loki knew was Thor yelling for him while he felt Ralston's warm hand within his own.