The time inevitably came when he, Loki Laufeyson, was forced to face his greatest fear. Quite literally.
Thanos was here, right in front of him, staring him in the face.
But death stared back at the God of Mischief.
He was staring death in the face.
Fleetingly he recalled the wise words of a man who'd once said "Death smiles at us all, and all we can do is smile back"
But Loki wasn't even able to do that. He couldn't even breath. The life was slowly being choked out of him, as the Titan's crushing grip held him suspended off the ground, his long legs flailing in blind desperation.
"Y-you will never be....a God." He managed, voice straining as the chokehold tightened suffocatingly.
And in that moment, the trickster's life began to flash before his eyes. Broken visions from his childhood, and the happier days of his youth on Asgard replayed like scenes on a projector in his minds eye, but it was the most recent times that brought comfort and soothed his suffering like a balm.
Three months had passed since his return to Stark's tower. Three blissful months, though the threat of Thanos had tainted his newfound happiness, clouding his every waking hour like a toxic vapour.
There had been much planning. Many long nights spent strategising as they awaited his invasion. Yet still nothing had prepared them for the onslaught of horror.
The plan had gone accordingly. Thanos and his children had been drawn into the mirror dimension, where Loki had been waiting. Well, one of his clones had been waiting. The decoy had been successful initially, until the mad Titan sensed it was an illusion.
And then the battle had begun.
Loki had fought alongside the rest of them, wielding his daggers and aiding his fellow comrades however he could.
On the battlefield he became a ruthless warrior to rival any other. Savagely slicing the throats of his enemies or inflicting lethal stabs to their gut, twisting the blade to ensure fatality. His movements were still graceful, each orchestrated move conducted with distinctive elegance.
But in spite of that, there was nothing graceful or elegant about battle.
It was utter carnage. Chaos in it's most deadly form. There was no place for gracefulness on the battlefield.
All around Loki there was individuals engaged in combat of every description.
Thor struck Thanos with lightening bolts, repeatedly being thrown back by the force of their foes' brute strength. Similarly, Stark attacked the Titan using the thrusters on his metal suit, and various other weaponised methods. The soldier was impressively strong in his own right, but not even the combined strength of all gathered were enough to fell the one who sought to wipe out half of all life.
But he was hell-bent on revenge, determined to extinguish Loki's life first.
It was personal. Loki understood that. And it was foolish of him to have allowed himself to be caught, and now there was no hope for him.
Hope for the others, but not for him.
The hope lay with the other members of the group. Those who were capable of fighting Thanos with less conventional methods.
Such as magic and sorcery.
It would take more than brute-strength alone to kill a Titan wielding two infinity stones, and Valhalla help them if he got his hands on the rest.
The creation that was referred to as 'Vision' was most definitely a fascinating anomaly, but seeing as he was also a prime target for the Black Order, due to having an infinity stone inconveniently placed in the centre of his forehead, the Avengers were insistent on him not wading into the fray.
But the others, the Bleeker Street magician and Wanda Maximoff, they were -- in Loki's personal opinion -- their best, if not only chance -- of vanquishing Thanos.
However Miss Maximoff was otherwise somewhat distracted by attempting to protect her beloved Vision, which hindered their progress.
Such a waste of power, Loki had lamented to himself earlier on in the battle.
Granted, she was the one individual who intrigued him the most. Her ability to wield chaos magic, naturally appealed to him.
"What I could do with the power that emanates from those hands." He had mused aloud on more than one occasion in the past.
His fascination with the sorceress had caused Darcy great annoyance, and he'd had to reassure her constantly that his interest lay solely in her magic. But her raging hormones were no doubt accountable for wreaking havoc with her rationality and reasoning.
"I only have eyes for one mortal female." He'd insisted, kissing the top of her head tenderly. "But I confess I do find your jealousy touching."
"Pfft, I'm not jealous." She huffed. "She can't use a taser or make a coffee like I can. There's just no comparison, right?"
He laughed. "Right."
Loki laughed a lot with Darcy. Sometimes he found himself laughing even when she hadn't said anything particularly funny. In actual fact, he made a point of laughing because he enjoyed the way she beamed when he did so. It was clear that such was her adoration for him, her entire face lit up whenever he laughed. She practically glowed, radiating a happiness that warmed his previously frozen heart.
Yes. He loved his precious little mortal more deeply than he'd ever thought possible, and his true purpose was to protect her and the new life that grew inside of her.
A burden that was indeed glorious, if not a little unnerving.
After all it did not seem at all fair to bring a child into a world that was fraught with such uncertainty. And then of course there was the crippling doubt that kept Loki awake at night. The question that haunted him.
What kind of father would he make?
How could one be that which they'd never been shown?
When he had faced Odin clamped in chains, Loki had despised the man he'd once called father. But just as Odin no doubt barely recognised his adoptive son for what he had become, the feeling had been completely mutual.
In that instant, Loki no longer saw the Allfather as the man who had raised him....he was more akin to a stranger.
As Frigga would've attested, her husband had never been one for being overly loving or affectionate. But at Loki's sentencing he had revealed himself in his true light, cruel, callous and severely lacking empathy and compassion. Even by taking Loki as a helpless infant in order to use him as a bargaining tool, only served as testament to how calculating and cold he truly was. It was nothing more than a strategic manoeuvre on his part.
"Your birthright was to die!"
Those words resounded in the mischievous God's head now.
Yes. Perhaps it was. And now the prophecy would be fulfilled, his chaotic life having now come full circle.
He would never have the opportunity to be the father he'd always wanted for himself.
Feeling his limbs go limp, Loki thought he caught the sound of Thor's anguished cries. He no longer possessed the strength to struggle and his vision grew hazy, gradually fading to black as he succumbed to listlessness.
Then all at once the black gave way to blinding light, making him blink erratically.
Gone was the carnage that had previously surrounded him, as he found himself staggering through long, luscious grass that rustled as a result of his unsteady, haphazard movements.
It was pleasantly warm and bright here. The sun's gentle rays kissed his sallow cheeks, and the soft breeze stirred his tousled mane of hair.
Then his focus settled on a lone figure which stood a few feet ahead of him, and there was no mistaking that kindly face and elegant countenance.
"Frigga!" The name left his lips on a sharp gust of breath which pained his throat.
The genteel lady gave a faint almost-smile, which Loki knew only too well.
"Am I not your mother?"
The question cleaved through him like the sharpened blade of an axe, as he recognised the poignant enquiry. But this time, he answered differently...
"You are." He rasped, strained emotion cracking his voice. "You always were. You...you always have been."
"And always will be." She added, smiling gently now. "You are my son Loki. I shared my gifts with you, but my one regret is that by protecting you from the truth, I wasn't able to teach you how to channel your own magic. For you possess power in your own right."
Unable to stand any longer, Loki fell to his knees, head bowed in defeat, feeling himself inwardly crumpling.
"Possibly. But it's too late for me now, mother. He's too strong. I am powerless to stop him--"
Her tinkling laughter forced him to look up, and he saw that she'd drawn closer and was now bending to gaze down at him fondly. The tenderness in her eyes created a pang of remorse and grief which stung his own eyes with unshed tears.
"Did I not say once before that you're always so perceptive about everyone but yourself? It isn't your time, Loki. Fight for your life and your beloved, and for your child."
"How? I don't know what more I could possibly do."
Proffering her small hand to him, she gave him her most encouraging smile. The smile she had always given him when he'd had difficulty mastering a spell and had been on the verge of giving up.
"You'll always be the God of Mischief, but you could be so much more. Those were wise words for your brother. But he was right. You are so much more. More than a trickster. More than just....Loki of Asgard."
Using the last strains of his wavering strength, he reached up and took her hand, immersing himself in the comfort it gave.
But her last words echoed in his ears...
"More than just Loki of Asgard."
"I am.....Loki of Jotunheim." He exhaled with great effort, as his eyes met Frigga's proud gaze, and suddenly he no longer felt ashamed of who or what he was, because he had his mothers love regardless.
Being a Jotun did not define who he was. But he could use his Frost Giant powers to his advantage, if only he could channel his native energy.
Suddenly the hand that was grasping his mother's began to feel oddly numb, and as he cast his eyes down he saw that it was returning to his natural form, growing icier with each passing second.
He blinked, shocked by what was happening, but now Frigga had disappeared and once again he was faced with Thanos, having returned....apparently from the brink of death.
His mind was reeling, but he quickly regained his wits in the midst of his confusion, and he concentrated with every fibre of his being, allowing his mystical aura to absorb his genetics. He'd never attempted to wield his frost powers without the aid of the Casket of Ancient Winters before. No one had ever taught him, and it wouldn't have occurred to him to try, especially when he wasn't willing to embrace his genealogy.
But embrace it now he would.
And he did.
The look of confusion was evident on the Titan's face, and he instinctively loosened his grip on Loki's throat.
Loki's eyes skittered down to the gauntlet which was still clasped around his throat, but there was -- to his immense relief and pleasant surprise -- a distinguishable film of ice creeping it's way across it's golden metal veneer.
It was working.
He was more than a Trickster. More than just the God of Mischief.
He was capable of so much more.
The slackening of Thanos' grasp was sufficient enough to enable Loki to utter a heartfelt plea...
"All fathers....let the dark magic flow through me!"
He squeezed his eyes tightly shut to cope with the sudden rush of intense power which seemed to course through his veins, turning his icy blood to fire. The scorching pain made him cry out as he released a seismic blast of energy which tore through his body, emanating from the very core of his being, as even his nerve endings served as a conductor for the dark energy.
The blast was enough to throw Thanos off balance, and he staggered backwards, dropping Loki in a crumpled heap on the ground amongst the debris.
"Wanda, patch him up." The voice of Stephen Strange came from nearby, but Loki wasn't able to turn or raise his head to look.
He quickly realised the instruction had been given regarding himself, as the 'Scarlet Witch' was suddenly kneeling beside him, her hands glowing red as she used her power to temporarily heal whatever damage had been done.
"Thank you, Miss Maximoff." Loki managed with great effort, but was unable to muster his trademark grin.
"Don't thank me, it's Stephen you need to thank. This is a do-over. If it wasn't for the time stone, you'd still be dead."
This revelation rendered Loki paralysed with shock. But then he realised with even greater panic, that he was in actual fact quite literally, paralysed.
"I can't move!"
Wanda was back up on her feet now, as there wasn't any time to spare. "Don't try to. Your neck has been broken. I've done what I can and that should hold you for now, until you can be healed properly."
And then she was gone, turning her attention back to Thanos, who had been kept at bay by Thor, Steve Rogers and Stark.
Had Loki been in a more comfortable position and not overwrought with concern for the state of his physical well being, he would've been immensely impressed by the way Wanda used her power to hold the crazed Titan almost completely immobilised, ripping his armour apart in her fury.
For all his strength, Thanos was not a magical being and he had no way of countering her abilities. He was incapable of stopping her from tearing the gauntlet from his hand, as she avenged Vision, who had suffered an almost fatal injury during Loki's 'absence'.
The rest of the Avengers rushed to defend her from the bombardment of Thanos' remaining troops, and due to Doctor Strange reversing time itself, Vision was unharmed and therefore able to vanquish their formidable enemy with a powerful blast from the mind stone, which effectively vaporised the bastard.
Vision had voiced his unwillingness to kill, several times, but he'd apparently been left with very little choice, seeing how he claimed to be "on the side of life" whereas Thanos most certainly was not. A fact which had become increasingly apparent to the peace-loving being.
Thor then used Mjolnir to smash the infinity gauntlet with a mighty blow, reducing the golden glove to broken fragments.
The stones were collected by Strange and swiftly pocketed, leaving him with the decision of where to keep them.
The injured -- Loki amongst them -- were then whisked off via one of his portals, to a glorious place called Wakanda, where they received the necessary medical treatment.
Time passed by in a blur, as Loki slept through the duration of his healing. Waking occasionally only to marvel at the advanced technology which rivalled that of the soul forge, and to briefly converse with Thor.
"It would appear you have cheated death once again, brother." He remarked, with an affectionate smile. "Though I confess, when Thanos said 'no resurrections this time' I thought your fate was sealed."
Loki swallowed, barely recognising the hoarse sound of his own voice, and when he spoke his throat felt inwardly raw.
"Yes, it would appear I am regrettably indebted to the good Doctor. I suppose now I will be obliged to thank him."
Thor chuckled in amusement. "Obviously you must, although I'm sure Darcy will thank him enough for the four of us!"
Loki's dark brows drew together in bewilderment. "Four?"
"Yes. I'm your brother, and therefor consider myself to be a worthy inclusion. But I have already thanked him, several times. But I shan't be content until he takes a drink with me. Do you know he's able to refill even the largest tankard of ale?"
"Ale be damned. Who is the third she would be thanking Strange for on their behalf? Surely not your beloved Miss Foster? I swear that woman secretly detests me--"
"No, I speak of your unborn child of course!" Thor clarified with a broad smile, seemingly oblivious to the way in which Loki's complexion visibly paled, as he broke into a cold sweat.
"Oh. Yes. Of course." He said leadenly, forcing a grim smile. "The child."
And just like that Loki's mind returned to thoughts of fatherhood, which certainly took his mind off his broken body.
Damage to his larynx caused by the pressure applied to his carotid artery, was the least of the injuries he'd suffered. Thanos had broken Loki's neck, which had rendered him unable to move, breath, and inevitably his body had lost the ability to control his heartbeat.
Death had been almost instantaneous.
However, once the fatal manoeuvre had been reversed by the Time Stone, and the Avengers prepared for what the Titan intended to do, they had been poised ready, but Loki's ability to free himself had also played a key role in his survival.
A broken neck did not always mean death would occur, and the second time around the injury to his spinal cord was not as severe so had not proved fatal. Wanda Maximoff had tended to him quickly, and now he was being treated appropriately so thankfully he wasn't destined to remain quadriplegic.
Against all odds, with the help of his mother -- who he was convinced he'd spoken to whilst on the periphery of death, if not in the state of being 'momentarily deceased' - and his new comrades, he'd survived.
Thanos and the Black Order were no more.
He was a free man, who'd been granted a chance to make a fresh start and a new life for himself, as a lover, and eventually......a father.
This filled the trickster with conflicting emotions. He felt so many things all at once, his feelings came too fast to process them all articulately. Much like they had when he had learned that Darcy had indeed fallen pregnant with his child.
Well, what had he expected?
One couldn't engage in copious amounts of coitus without taking the necessary precautions, and expect any other outcome.
In all his 1070 years, Loki had never entertained thoughts of becoming a parent. The very idea had unarguably always been repugnant to him.
But with Darcy Lewis, well, things were.....different.
If he couldn't successfully negotiate the minefield of parenthood with her, then he was convinced he couldn't do it with any woman.
He recalled the way in which she'd broken the news to him, after days of sporadic intervals of her vomiting, he had returned from the conference room to find her anxiously hovering in the lounge at the Avengers Tower, whereupon she had thrust a foreign object abruptly under his nose.
"And what precisely am I looking at?" He'd enquired, taking the little white plastic stick from her trembling fingers, in order to inspect it more closely.
"There is two lines on there, right?" She'd asked eagerly, seeking confirmation to what Loki could only perceive as being blindingly obvious.
"Yes. Why? Have you been drinking whiskey shots again, my love? You know how consuming whiskey on an empty stomach gives you double vision--"
"No I haven't!"
"Well then why would you need ask? Do you not trust your new contact lenses?"
"No, what I don't trust is my brain right now. I can't....I can't even think straight." She clasped a hand to her chest in a dramatic gesture, which was enough to give Loki pause.
Because whilst his precious earth girl was prone to occasional outbursts of the melodramatic, on this occasion she seemed genuinely concerned.
"If you haven't been drinking then why don't you trust your brain? Darcy, what is this? What exactly does it signify?"
Darcy's large blue eyes stared up at him apprehensively, as she took her bottom lip between her teeth. "It's a pregnancy test, L. And it means.....you're gonna be a daddy."
Loki felt his jaw slacken, and then his mouth had literally fell open.
He was shocked, even though he knew he ought not have been really, but he forced his lips to curl into something which vaguely resembled a smile, and said plaintively, "How...wonderful."
He then felt compelled to give the performance of his life.
Acting indifferent and cool and casual when under pressure, was like donning a second skin for Loki.
He'd perfected the art of concealing his fears, and seeing Darcy so relieved and joyous was reward enough for his efforts, and worth him hiding his inner turmoil.
He wasn't exactly unhappy about the news. On the contrary, Darcy's enthusiasm was infectious, and he'd absently been given to flights of fancy over the following weeks, excitedly musing over how he intended to tutor his offspring in the arts of magic, and insisting on a gold and green colour scheme for the infants nursery.
Granted, he had gotten a little carried away there. In order to provide stability and a comfortable environment, first there had to be a family home. And he was forced to acknowledge that the Avengers Tower was hardly a befitting environment to rear a child in.
Thus, doubts had crept in and taken hold. But he would not voice his concerns to Darcy. He didn't wish to burden her when she had reservations enough of her own. More than once he'd had to calm her irrational jitters over the sobering reality that she was carrying what might irrefutably be dubbed an 'alien' baby.
So, what did he do? He sucked in a deep, calming breath and did what he did best.
The only thing he knew how to when it came to complicated, messy emotions that he had no idea how to cope with....
He filed it away mentally, then buried it deep.
Resigning himself to denial and a state of blissful ignorance for the time being.
But that all changed when Darcy journeyed to Wakanda a few days following the battle, at her own insistence, to visit him.
"You!" Was all she could exclaim, as she fell into his awaiting arms, dissolving into floods of tears.
"Me?" Loki raised one elegant brow, as he held her tightly and buried his face in her hair, which always tickled his nose.
"Yes you!" She continued at last, between heaving sobs. "You're a gigantic pain in the ass! A complete frickin' idiot! You could have died! You DID die! What would I have done without you? What would WE have done?" She gestured frantically to her stomach.
"You needn't torment yourself with such dark thoughts, love. I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere. You both have me completely." He assured her, touched by her devotion.
By the Norns, he loved her so dearly. So much so that it still unsettled him a little.
Intimacy had never come easily for Loki, but even their acquaintances could see just how deeply their love ran for one another. Indeed Darcy enjoyed teasing him regularly about some observational comment or another that Thor frequently passed.
At present her most favoured quote was how his adoptive brother had noted the way in which Loki smiled at her...
"It's not the sort of smile he used to beguile his past flirts. There's something warmer and far more intimate about it."
"How remarkably observant of him." Loki had quipped dryly in response, though admittedly, having others pass comment on his personal life still brought a rush of colour to his cheeks.
He chose instead to counter any childish taunting by deflecting his embarrassment and responding with not-so-subtle sexually suggestive ripostes.
"Where's your little Princess?" Stark would ask.
To which Loki would respond with. "Princess in the lounge she may be, but in the bedchamber she's my little pet."
This was usually enough to silence Stark -- even with his colourful past -- he seemingly deemed any details regarding Loki's carnal activities, way beyond the boundaries of what he considered decent.
Not that Loki would actually divulge details of his sexual exploits. He guarded his privacy fiercely. But knowing that the sordid truth would most likely shake the self-proclaimed former 'playboy' to the very core, amused Loki no end.
He took malicious delight in the secret knowledge that Stark would be grateful for Loki courteously casting the sound-proofing spells on his room, which he did to spare everyone from the potential awkwardness of Darcy loudly expressing her appreciation when he ravished her throughout the night.
Yes. The sex was wildly fantastic, and Loki revelled in the sight and sound of making his exquisite little love writhe and whimper beneath him.
Sexual exploration was a pleasurable distraction, and, just as he'd always suspected, proved to be much more fulfilling and meaningful when engaging with someone you loved.
And Darcy Lewis had no qualms about expressing her love, in many numerous and varied ways.
Such as now, for instance. Her honest display of emotions never ceased to astonish him, and he was thankful that she hadn't been able to come to him sooner and see him whilst he was still requiring healing sessions.
She would've no doubt fidgeted herself into an absolute frenzy, which wouldn't do.
Not only did it grieve him to see her so agitated, but there was the welfare of their child to consider now also.
Still, now he had regained full mobility, thanks to his quick-healing, durable genetics, and was able to walk around the facility unaided, his beloved was at least now able to behold him relatively unscathed.
"And what about you, Miss Lewis?" He said now, adopting the formal tone he used semi-playfully whenever he reproached her for something. "You should not have travelled such a distance in your condition."
Darcy rolled her eyes but could not refrain from smiling lovingly at him. "I'm pregnant Loki, that's all. It's not an illness."
"Don't deny that you enjoy my fussing over you."
"Yeah I'll give you that." She giggled, lacing her arms around his neck. "It drives me crazy, but it's majorly cute."
Dipping his head, he swooped down and caught her alluringly full pout in a loving kiss. The familiar taste of her raspberry lip balm made him smile against her lips, and as he deepened the kiss he practically felt her liquefy in his arms. He tightened his embrace, gathering her up and pulling her flush to him....then he broke the kiss, and pulled away haltingly as a thought occurred to him.
"I'm not hurting you am I?" He asked, concern creasing his brow. "I don't want to squash you--"
"Oh for God sake, no! You're not hurting me." She insisted with more than just a measured amount of mild irritation. "I keep telling you, being pregnant does not make me an invalid. Cranky, sick, dangerous, and prone to erratic mood swings yes, but not an invalid."
"Your mood swings oscillate tempestuously even without the hormonal imbalance." He snickered, as he instinctively placed his hand delicately on her barely-visible baby bump. "And I am not treating you like an invalid, I'm merely being mindful of....." His words trailed off, cut short by the subtle yet distinctive sensation of the 'bump' moving slightly beneath his touch.
"What's up?" She looked at him questioningly, her frustration forgotten.
He looked up, meeting her eyes, and was all at once aware that unexpected tears had clouded his vision, as the sudden rush of emotion overwhelmed him.
"Darcy I.....if I'm not mistaken, I just felt our baby kick!"
Her face split into a wide smile, and she tenderly placed her small hand atop of his. "For real? Aww, that's so awesome!"
He nodded in agreement and found himself laughing with irrepressible, uninhibited joy. "Yes....yes it is."
Arm in arm they slowly walked along the corridor, the sunlight streaming in through the long glass windows bathing them in it's comforting warm glow.
The sun was shining again.
"You know what, Loki?" Darcy said softly, resting her head against his cotton-gowned chest. "I think we'll totally master this whole parenting thing."
He smiled, allowing a deep, heartfelt sigh to escape his lips.
"You know what, Darcy? I think you might just be right. This is going to be such fun."