As soon as the Reaping is deemed over, Sif and I are walked out of the throne room and down the winding corridors to the two rooms that have been set aside for us to bid our final goodbyes. Nebula leads Sif ahead of me, Gamora walking by my side.
Although we don't speak, I can tell she's not exactly pleased by this turn of events. Her fierce grip on my bicep clues me into that, as does the almost distant look in her eyes. She barely even gives me a glance as she shoves me into the room with a bit more force than I am expecting.
With a sigh, I take a seat and wait to see who will come to bid me farewell. It takes several moments, but soon enough, the door opens and my parents enter the room.
Frigga rushes over to my side as I stand, Odin positioned behind her. "Oh, Loki," she says. "I'm so proud of what you did." She then shakes her head. "But it was risky, taking Heimdall's punishment onto yourself."
I just shrug and look at Odin. "Are you happy, Father?" I ask. "Have I made you proud?"
Odin meets my gaze, his eye perpetually weary. He looks like a weak old man, in this moment, not the once powerful king of Asgard. "You haven't won yet."
The words sting me, so much so I actually take a step back. I haven't won yet? That's the only thing he can think of to say to me?
But what should I have expected? I'm not Thor. I don't bring Odin pride just by waking up in the morning and talking loudly about my past victories. No. I'm the one who will have to die before Odin realizes I am his son as well.
Of course, that will only happen if I die doing something glorious.
"Odin," Frigga snaps, giving him a disbelieving look. "Loki volunteered, like you have been asking him to do. Is not Loki risking his life enough? Why wasn't Thor risking his life enough?"
"Thor was hardly risking his life," Odin says. "Watching the recap should have only proven that, Frigga. No; Thor was in no danger then. Not like Loki is now."
Frigga straightens and pins her gaze on Odin. "Your son is going to compete in the Contest, and that is all you can talk about?"
There is several seconds of tense silence as Frigga and Odin hold each other's gazes, Frigga glaring while Odin seems only to manage a weary look while I stand off to the side between the two of them rather awkwardly.
"Does it matter?" I say quietly, closing my eyes. "I am going no matter how either you feel about it. You don't have long to spend with me."
Frigga instantly turns, her eyes sad. "I am proud of you," she murmurs, stepping close to me and kissing me lightly on the forehead, having to reach up and gently pull my head down in order to do so due to my height. "And I have faith in you, Loki, that you will make both of us proud in the arena."
I return her gaze, fighting back against my emotions. "I will make you proud, Mother." I look at Odin. "I will make Asgard proud."
"Asgard seems proud already," Odin says gruffly, and I realize it's the Asgardians kneeling to me that's bothering him so much. He doesn't understand why it happened, or what even inspired it, or why I was shown the honor when neither of my older siblings were. Honor for Asgard's sake is no longer the goal.
I must bring honor to Odin.
There is silence until Gamora raps on the closed door, reminding us of the time. Frigga then hugs me, holding me close. "I love you, Loki," she says, cupping my face in her hands as she gazes up at me. "And I am always proud of you." She steps back, hands drifting down to my shoulders. "Remember your magic. Remember your family."
Odin regards me and then steps forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Win," he says. He opens his mouth to say something else, closes it, just looks at me with a regretful gaze, and then finally speaks. "Show the universe Asgard still has its honor."
I nod, not sure what to say. My father turns and leaves, Frigga looking back at me with a sad smile as she follows.
Heimdall enters the room after they are gone, shaking his head. "Loki," he says, looking at me. "Why did you do that?"
"Thanos has already punished you," I answer. "I didn't think you needed to be punished again."
Heimdall takes a seat and I sit across from him. "You have strength, Silvertongue," Heimdall tells me after some silence. "That, I've always known. But bravery – I didn't know how much you had until today." I glance down as he continues. "But don't allow yourself to predict the outcome of this event. You have potential, potential that should things be different, you'd be a part of something much larger than yourself. Go, and fight to win."
"Of course I'll fight," I say, offended. "What, you think I'll stand there as a target for their weapons? Just because I'm the younger brother of Thor doesn't mean I don't know how to fight myself."
Heimdall stands as the signal comes for his departure, his cloudy amber eyes lingering on me. I suddenly get the feeling he sees deeper than I ever suspected, and farther than Thanos ever feared. "You have talents, Loki, talents that can ensure your survival. Use them, and use them wisely. Fight, and fight well."
"I will," I respond, also rising. "Thank you, Heimdall."
"No," Heimdall says, glancing back over his shoulder as he turns for the door. "It is I who thank you, Silvertongue. You have my allegiance."
"Your allegiance is to the throne," I say with a frown.
"Precisely," Heimdall answers, leaving before I can query him again.
No one enters for a while, and I start to doubt anyone else wants to say goodbye to me when the door is pushed open. Nebula strides in and walks toward me, stopping right in front of me. I regard her uncertainly, wondering why she has come to bid farewell.
"I have something for you," she states, holding her closed fist up before me. She meets my gaze. "A token."
"A token?" I frown. "Why would I need a token?"
"To represent Asgard," she explains. "To represent the greater picture."
She unfurls her biological fingers slowly, the blue digits uncovering the pin resting on her palm. It is square, carefully carved out of wood. A detailed tree takes up most of the surface of the pin, the sturdy trunk sprouting long, twisting branches that wind up and away from it.
Yggdrasil. The World Tree, what binds the Nine Realms together.
Or, at least, what used to.
I look up at Nebula for an explanation, which she readily gives me. "Thanos gave this to me, when I was a child," she says softly. "It was a reminder to my father not to fail. It can be a reminder to you, as well."
I jerk away from her, but Nebula continues before I can interrupt her. "Do not reject it because it once belonged to him. My father is many things, but a failure is not one of them. Take it. Let it remind you in the arena."
She lifts her hand up, fingers spread wide, as she offers me the pin, sticking it close to my face. I reluctantly take it from her and run my finger over the surface. The image sticks out of the wood, giving my finger something to catch on as I caress it.
"Why are you giving this to me?" I ask her, closing my fingers around the pin and lowering my hand. "You and I, we are not friends."
Nebula inclines her head. "Maybe not. But you are my sister's friend, and she has no wish to see you dead. Besides, you did something I haven't seen anyone do before, not since I was a small child: stand up to my father. Win."
And with that, Nebula turns and strides out of the room, pausing only by the exit to say, "I'll make sure Goose is taken care of."
I watch her leave, and then look down at the pin on my palm as I uncurl my fingers. I place it gently in my pocket for safekeeping as the door opens again.
Gamora stands in the doorway. She swings the door shut behind her and walks toward me. But instead of stopping like Nebula did in front of me, she keeps going, only halting once she's leaning against me.
She wraps her arms around me and presses her head into my chest. Thoroughly surprised, I place my arms around her after a moment of hesitation, holding her closer to me as I rest my head on her dark hair, my arms tightening around her.
I feel nostalgic, almost, which doesn't make sense. Gamora and I, this was never us. We were – are – only friends. Even if either of us wanted anything more, it would be impossible, so I've never even thought about it.
But now, here we are, and she's got her arms around me. She's hugging me, in a way that doesn't exactly seem like a friend-like gesture. But I don't want to question it, I don't want to alienate her when the odds of us seeing each other again don't seem too strong, so I don't let go. And neither does she.
But then she does pull back, her eyes searching my face for something. "Promise me," she says. "Promise me you'll win."
"How can I promise that?" I ask quietly, all of my bravery gone. There's only honesty now, something I didn't dare show to the others. "I'm going to take out as many of the other contenders as possible, but to win? That's –"
Gamora silences me, placing her hand over my mouth. I was almost expecting her to slap me but her touch is soft, gentle, a welcome contradiction to her typical reaction to disagreement. The rings on her fingers are cold against my skin.
"Swear to me," she insists. "Swear to me, on your mother's life, that you'll win."
Her eyes are hard and determined, waiting for my answer. I remove her hand from my mouth and her fingers tighten around mine almost instantly, involuntarily. "I swear," I vow. "I swear I'll win."
"Whatever it takes," Gamora says, looking down.
"Whatever it takes," I repeat, leaning my head forward to rest my forehead on hers. For a moment, we just stand there, not doing or saying anything, only breathing. We just live in the moment, hardly daring to think about a future that has no room for what seems to have happened between us today.
There's a quick rap on the door and Nebula sticks her head in. "It is time...." Her voice trails off as she sees us standing together, our hands linked, and a mix of emotions cross her face before she gestures to us, impassive once again. "The ship is ready, sister. It is time."
Gamora steps back and the moment is gone. No, not just gone; it's been shattered. That's the only way I can describe it; like glass breaking into a million pieces, whatever it once was lost beyond repair and recognition.
I don't know if what shattered was our friendship or whatever just happened. I can't name exactly which one I'm so sure that I've lost. Is our unusual friendship broken? Or is it the other thing, that strange, ethereal moment?
It seems we'll never know.