Summary: Loki arrives in Valhalla. Set post-Infinity War.
A/N: Hi everyone!! Here’s my second fic ever on this page. Please enjoy and do leave feedback! Thanks :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or any characters in the series, this is purely a work of fan fiction created for entertainment purposes :) GIF not mine either!
Golden light trickles out from beneath the tall double
doors before him. Along the length of the oaken doors, ornate carvings adorn the
wood, depicting tales of warriors in battle.
Loki raises a hand to trail along the carved oak – and
stops as he takes in the gold edging on his wrists. Surprise crosses his face. He
looks down at himself, a satisfied grin forming on his lips as he takes in his
tunic. He is clad in his favourite tunic again – green and black, gold
trimmings glinting dully in the dim light.
They look slightly scuffed, and he frowns a little at
that, but it soon fades away. At least he isn’t wearing that suit from Sakaar,
thank the Norns – blue was never his colour, after all. Ironic, since he’s
He returns his attention to the carvings on the door. They
are intricate; perfect in likeness. They bring Loki back to war after war,
battle after battle, reliving the flashbacks to each and every fight that he
was ever in.
He sees Odin on Sleipnir the eight-legged horse – one
that is rumoured to be his spawn, although he’s never bothered to confirm or
deny it – on the battlefield in Jotunheim, wielding his mythical spear. Around him,
bodies litter the ground, frost giants and Asgardians alike.
Belatedly, he recognizes one of the images right
before him. It is Thor, in the ridiculous outfit from the Grandmaster’s
arena, charging toward Hela in the distance. Then he sees himself,
beside Thor, knives in hand. Loki-in-the-carving wears the gold helmet, the one
he is holding right now in a loose grip.
The memories come back to him slowly.
Blood and sweat and tears. Watching the remaining
armies of Asgard crumble under Thanos’s might. And the pain. Thanos’s grip a
vice around his throat. The pain on Thor’s face as he offered himself to the
Titan in Thor’s stead.
The sun will shine on us again. Another
promise he cannot keep. But he doesn’t regret it. He would’ve done anything,
anything at all, if it meant he would keep Asgard – and his brother – safe
Tears prick at the corners of his eyes, and he takes a
deep breath. He knows he will not see his brother again, not for a thousand
years –Thor will do whatever it takes to defeat Thanos, this he knows. Thor –
mighty Thor with his hammer and brute strength and will of iron – will not
Clenching his jaw, Loki wills himself into calmness. Whatever
lies beyond the veil of Death, he will be ready for it.
As if on command, the doors creak open, slowly but
surely, and light spills through, temporarily blinding him. He raises his hand
to shield his eyes. When he lowers it, he sees Asgard. Specifically, the
great dining hall of Odin’s palace.
The vast space is full of warriors, all dressed in
gilded armour. His eyes land on a familiar trio – the Warriors Three, his
brother’s friends. Truth be told, he isn’t surprised to see them here in the
afterlife. He hadn’t seen them in the fight against Thanos, so he’d assumed
they didn’t survive Hela’s brief reign of Asgard.
The Allfather sits at the head of the table, goblet in
hand, looking not unlike the time when Loki impersonated him after the episode
with the dark elves. Sounds of merriment grow quiet, drowned out by the sound
of his own heart pounding in his ears.
Odin is here. He can
hardly believe it. If the Allfather is here – it means he is in Valhalla.
He barely has enough time to process that before Odin’s
steel gaze is locked on him. At the head of the table, Odin lifts his goblet in
a toast. “Loki, my son. Welcome to Valhalla.”
His mouth is dry. Odin’s son. He’s tempted to –
what do the mortals call it? – pinch himself, to see if he is dreaming, but
there is no need for it. He’s dead, anyway.
The Allfather still stares at him, as if he is seeing
Loki for the first time. And maybe he is.
Loki isn’t Odin’s son, this much is clear. He will not
be a pawn in anyone’s game, least of all the one who took him in solely as a bargaining
chip. Odin knows this. Loki can see it in his eyes. And perhaps, Loki
muses as the Allfather’s lips quirk up in the semblance of a smile, Odin has
He looks to the side, and he sees Frigga, still clad
in the gold robes from his memories. She smiles at him, clasping his hands
between her own. He can feel the tears prickling at his eyelids.
“Mother,” he whispers, head bowed. He hates the
way his voice cracks on the word, the way he is trembling like he will fall
Warm hands caress his face, and Loki looks into the
smiling eyes of his mother.
“My son.” Her voice is soft, loving as always.
The tears come, unbidden, and this time he lets them
fall. He had never known if he would end up in Valhalla, among the noblest
warriors of Asgard. He’d always thought he wouldn’t deserve a place,
after all he’d done.
But he is here now, and he finally relaxes, in the embrace
of his mother. Because, ultimately, he knows that his Jotun blood doesn’t
matter, that he’s changed for the better.
neither peter nor tony dying in infinity war, but both being terrified at the thought of losing the other so they cling to each other for like a solid 10 minutes until they realize neither of them are going to dust, and peter gets to join the suffering-in-space gang of tony and nebula
peter and tony getting stuck together on that ship gives many angsty opportunities, but i am also interested in this for the fantastic cool awesome idea of neither of them dying