#x gifted!reader

Judging by the mutterings in the great hall and the amount of dignitaries present, Loki is ready to bet on the latter type and he’s suspicion is confirmed shortly after when Heimdal follows the king onto the dais with the throne before leaving with a deep bow. The moment is brief, but Loki manages to catch the gaze of the Bridge Keeper and the eyes says it all: Thanos is moving.

“Silence.” A thumb of the but of a spear against the floor underlines the command. “It has come to this…the forces of Thanos are mobilizing and although it is not clear to whence, it is imperative that the Mad Titan is stopped before his destruction can reach the Nine Realms. Emissaries have been send to Nidavellir and Vanaheim. Soon, we will hear if and with how great numbers they will join to fight side by side with us. Meanwhile, the Asgardian forces will be mustered and commence training to optimize fighting alongside the Älfir.”

And so the day had finally come where Odin accepted at least part of the truth.

...   Reader   ...

And Loki can’t find the peace he had hoped for. Walking the halls with his head held high, finally allowed (if only tolerated) back to the place where he grew up, his eyes darts from shadowed corners to the faces that openly display distrust.

“Give them time,” you soothe him, stroking the skin that constantly has a frigid, blue shimmer to it, “it took time for me too and I got to see it all.”

He pulls you tighter, arm protectively around your shoulder even now on the balcony of your chambers (his old rooms), and kisses your forehead.

“And it is still a miracle to me that you did, my love,” he confesses.

However, to you the miracle is that you both have come this far; it’s that you stand in the midday’s sun with the person you love; it’s the marvel of Asgard laid out before you under the blazing sun. It’s beautiful. You’ve known that since you arrived, but with the recent events something seems to have underlined the wondrous qualities of the place to the point where it almost can rival that of Alfheim. Almost.

I wonder if I ever get to see that place again?

The High Priestess has made it clear that her realm always will consider you – and in extension Loki – to be a citizen, but as tempting as it seems to run away to the peaceful planet, there is one thing that you need to help take care of even if you don’t know how to.

Thanos.

For days now, while troops rally and space fleet assemble, you’ve been training with Frigga, the Priestess, and Loki in the hopes of gaining some semblance of control of your powers. This is not to say that you can’t do what you want with them...as long as what you want fits your wishes in the spur of the moment: acting against your own wishes smothers any attempt at coming up with a magical tune to exert your will through.

“Darling,” Loki’s voice calls you back from the gloomy thoughts, “whatever will happen...I know you will do amazing.”

Looking up at him, you see the kind smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re just saying that to be nice.”

He laughs as if caught red-handed. “Maybe...but I do mean every word of it.” A new kiss to your forehead, soft and slow. “My worries do not lie with your prowess but with the fact that I don’t know how to keep you safe for certain.”

“Perhaps it’s my turn to keep you safe?” And it really feels like that is the truth. “But take care anyways, okay?”

“For you...always.”

...  Loki  ...

It took almost seven days since the day on the balcony. Seven days with increasing tension from all sides and squabbles along warriors who have been used to specific commanders but now find themselves taking orders from others.

Then the coalition set out and Loki used the Tessaract to open a portal bigger than he ever had before, allowing several ships at once to pass through.

Two days more of waiting, allowing Heimdal to get his bearings and find a point on which to focus. Thanos’ armada is oddly small but no less deadly. [Y/N] had called some of the ships “donuts” – apparently a name for a pastry that’s revered particular in the western hemisphere of Midgard – but the Accuser Warships get no nicknames to lighten their harrowing presence.

One by one, the enemy vessels come into view as all around Loki and [Y/N], who are standing on the bridge of the main Alfïr ship, commands are uttered and followed without hesitation.

“It is time,” the High Priestess hums, her usual ethereal garb covered with polished armour and translucent blades, “we await your final order, Saviour.”

Saviour. It is the title that has been given [Y/N] and one which she only has accepted because there was no other option. As always it makes her cringe for a second before she manages to shake the sense of misguided shyness away and look to the other main ships along the allied forced.

The song is soft-flowing, travelling through the hulls to reach everyone in the coalition fleet before building and reaching a powerful chant that bolsters the hearts of all that listen.

Prepare. Prepare to fight for glory and the safety of our homes. Fight for those we love. Fight for life as we know it. Fight. FIRE!

Unspoken commands are followed from each ship with long-ranged cannons and the gleaming lights streak across the vast darkness of space between the opposing forces.

Don’t hold back. Show them our might. Fight for the life of your loved ones. FIRE!

The first impact have barely lit up the shields of the enemy ships before a new volley is released.

Stand fast. Stay strong. Do not let evil take us over.

There’s a thrumming hum as every ship establishes their shields in a collective, shimmering barrier just in time for the answering volley to miss the allied vessels.

Next thing you knew, you were coming to conscious, drifting through space while the battle still raged soundlessly around you. Gasping to regain your breath after the impact, you had time to slap yourself mentally because there was no air to fill your lungs before panic started to set in and clouded any semblance of thought process. You could feel the dizziness slowly tug at your senses, could see the patches of blackness despite the similarly dark backdrop to everything around you. This is it, you realized, consciousness flickering.

But it wasn’t. Of course not. It was naïve to think you’d get away that painlessly.

A vast shadow loomed over you, pulling you in until you were resting on a metal surface and a metallic gate had swept closed in slow motion. Together with heat, and sound, came the air you needed so badly to cry out in desperation at realizing you were alone.

“Loki?” you gasped at first before filling your lungs, “LOKIIIII!”

There were voices around you and you felt hands grasp your flailing limbs. Then there was the face of Frigga, and you knew where you were but it didn’t matter as long as it was just you.

Another bout of words that you couldn’t be bothered to listen to until, “[Y/N], get yourself together.” You blinked owlishly at the stern face of your ally. “You are needed and Loki sent you into our path for that reason…don’t let his act be in vain.”

“Loki?” you whimpered at the name. Where was he then?

You recognized a pain flickering across Frigga’s face. “Yes, now make him proud, child.” She pulled you onto your feet and lifted your chin in much the same way your love had been prone to do. “Will you let Thanos get away with this?”

No. Something stirred deep within you, something you had never felt before and it scared you while simultaneously enticing you as your blood began to boil with rage. No, he will know pain too.

You allowed Frigga to guide you to the bridge of the vessel. From there you could see the chaos outside, watch the clusters of metal and glass that already were trying to stay in small orbits around each other only to be pushed apart as something came barrelling through, dragging it along in long wakes of destruction. But you saw Thanos’ ship across the battle space. You saw the bands of the wings whir silently as they turned and clicked into place to allow a new wave of smaller fighter flights gain access and kill.

Kill.

Death…so much death.

The ship you had been on was not the only vessel that had succumbed to the enemy. You had been told that was likely to happen even before boarding the ship and setting out, but watching it was too painful. Ruined, hulking wrecks floated by with a stream of dead in their wake. Where is Loki? But you didn’t want the answer. You wanted revenge.

...

People around you are cheering despite the devastation hovering in ribbons and clusters outside the warship you’re on. You know, you should join them – even though Thanos hasn’t been killed, the Mad Titan has still suffered a scalding defeat today – and cheer for those who fought whether they survived or not. But you can’t. Just...can’t. There’s an emptiness inside you, numbing, but void of anything else than disbelief as it renders all senses useless.

“Saviour.” The High Priestess has been among the survivors recovered among the debris right after their flagship was shot to smithereens. “You have done well. Be proud.”

“Thank you,” you mutter despite not feeling the pride she’s talking about. What is there to be proud of?

Every ship are sending out little teams for search-and-rescue, mostly bringing back corpses with bloated and blistered skin and blood-shot eyes. They’re covered in frost. Cold to the touch the few times you’ve tried to reach out to find a pulse before giving up helping out. It’s not the same chill. And you can’t help but wonder: will Loki feel this way too once they haul him back onto a vessel?

Someone big and warm plops down next to you, stretching leather-clad legs out before him and wraps an arm around you to envelop you in heat and sweaty musk that clings to his muscles.

“Don’t fret, little one,” Thor’s voice rumbles, “my brother rarely stays dead for long. He’s always pulled pranks, you know.”

“Thor...” you can’t listen to him. Can’t hear his tales of denial when it only highlights how fruitless it is to hope because this time...if Loki has been picked up by the coalition then you’d have known by now. And if it’s someone else who has found him alive...? You don’t want to finish the sentence.

“- this one time, he had transformed into a snake...and you know I love snakes...so I went to -”

“Thor!” You startle the poor guy shut, the look he gives you full of understanding underneath the wetness nearly daring to tumble down his cheeks. “I’m...I’m sorry, Thor. It’s just...can we not talk for a moment?”

He tugs you closer. “Of course.”