Author's note:
Just a reminder that there was a time jump last chapter to 1 year after Loki arrived; this chapter occurs 1 week after Nick Fury visited Loki in the park.
**********
For days Rowan debated over what to do with the basket of apples she bought at the weekend farmer’s market. After ruling out apple cake with frosting and apple crisp she finally decided on an apple spice cake since it would keep well during travel.
Thor arrived late morning on Saturday and met Rowan and Loki at the park as he’d met them before almost a year ago. He held a glowing, blue device reminiscent of the tesseract. They would all three need to touch it when activated to transport back to Asgard.
Loki had assured Rowan that everything would be provided during their stay, so she only need bring herself and her gift. Rowan held her cake in a portable container and walked eagerly through the park, the day had not yet taken its toll on her energy.
Thor glanced happily at Loki and his fiancee. “Are we ready to depart?”
Rowan shifted uncertainly, then exclaimed, “Wait!”
The two men looked at her in sync. Loki responded calmly. “Yes, dear? Have you forgotten something?”
“I was trying to ignore it, but before we leave for Asgard, can we go for ice cream? Really quickly? Meeting Thor here again reminded me of the ice cream I was eating that night, and now I really want some. The shop will have just opened. And thinking of how long we’ll be visiting without the possibility of peanut butter ice cream...I just really want some ice cream, Loki.”
Thor and Loki exchanged a bewildered look that so often crossed men’s faces when women ask questions that can only be explained by womanly issues.
“Certainly, my love. And I am sure Thor can appreciate good ice cream.”
“I am not the food enthusiast that Volstagg is, but I do enjoy good food, yes. I enjoy good friends most of all, though. It is so good to see you, brother. Let us partake of this iced cream merrily,” Thor hung his arm over Loki’s shoulders with a wide grin and the three of them walked back toward the shops in the city.
Three blocks in they passed a small store that had been renovated by a new owner Loki had not yet met. An elderly woman stepped out of the shop lugging a large sign in her hands. The sign read “Aisa’s Used Books.” There was a ladder next to her door, but she eyed it anxiously, afraid to use it herself. When the old woman saw the three approach, she smiled and called to Thor.
“You there, with the hammer! You’re a strong young man—and a construction worker, too. Would you help an old woman hang up her sign?”
Thor smiled and approached the old woman. “It would be my pleasure, madam. You two go ahead, and I will catch you up. I will not be long.”
Thor set down his hammer next to the building to open the rickety ladder and proceeded to climb it, nearly falling twice. The old woman handed the sign up to him, but between the unsteady ladder and her unsteady hands Loki gathered it might take a while for Thor to finish his task. Loki and Rowan chuckled and left Thor to his rather comical situation.
Two blocks closer to the ice cream parlor they approached one of the busier intersections of downtown. They did not need to cross at the intersection, only turn right once they came to it. Loki’s attention was caught by a truck traveling the way he had just come bearing a large, black label which read “Atropos.” He turned from Rowan’s side to stare after the truck, recalling that Atropos had been one of the three Fates in Midgardian Greek mythology.
He saw Thor approaching and waited for him to catch up. Rowan continued forward down the sidewalk without him. Her attention was fixed on the storefront next to the intersection. It was the same antique shop where he had acquired his watch, and lately Rowan had taken a liking to collecting old charms. Normally she would have gone right in, but the shop was closed this morning for an unknown reason, so today she only admired several items in the storefront display. She was perhaps 20 or 30 feet away from them.
“Completed your good deed for today?” Loki addressed his brother with a smirk, yet he stared after the truck.
“Indeed I have. Aiding others in need is paramount. What keeps your attention, Loki?” Thor asked as he arrived at Loki’s side.
“A vehicle that passed. It read ‘Atropos.’ After ‘Aisa’s Used Books,’ I believe someone may be sending me a message. And I am not always fond of messages.”
“Atropos? Aisa? What significance do these names hold?”
“Did you not pay attention while we studied Midgardian Mythologies?” Remembrance of an old memory dawned across his face with a smile, “Ah, of course you did not. You were preoccupied attempting to win a certain wager out in the training grounds while I studied. As I recall you accepted a challenge from the Master at Arms himself.” Loki grinned at his brother.
Thor gave an exasperated sigh at the reminiscence, “Indeed I did. Old Randfastr challenged me to best him using any weapon of my choosing. I could never beat him, yet he never won himself. He was an expert in defense and always managed to turn my attacks against me. He said I was a hothead.”
“Every afternoon for three months you fruitlessly attempted to beat him.” Loki chuckled at the memory. “Our instructor Aldrathr reported your low scores to father, and Odin’s scolding was the only reason you finally admitted your loss.”
Thor finally laughed at himself along with Loki. “I was much more stubborn back then. A happy memory indeed, brother. Come. Let us catch up to Rowan.”
As they turned to walk further down the sidewalk, Loki remembered what he was about to tell Thor, “Oh, the mythological reference. Atropos was one of the three Fates, the life severer, of Ancient Greece. Aisa was another similar concept, fate personified.”
The events that followed took only seconds.
Car horns blared and screeching tires were heard from across the intersection. A sleek black town car careened across passing traffic onto the sidewalk and slammed into the antique shop. Rowan was at the center of the collision. Shocked beyond belief, Loki did not remember stopping. Around him pedestrians screamed and cars halted in the road, but he paid them no attention. He had only been 20 or 30 feet away from her, but it felt like miles. How could he have let this happen? Why did he not keep her by his side?
Thor and Loki rushed forward to the scene of the crash. Thor easily removed the car from the storefront using his great strength and left it on the sidewalk. He checked the driver, a chauffeur of sorts, but the man had been killed upon impact. No one else was traveling in the car with him. Several passers-by were already on their mobile phones calling for police and medical help.
Loki stepped into the ruined storefront, heedless of the building’s possible loss of integrity. Glass and broken merchandise ground under his steps. Rowan lay in a heap amidst the building’s debris and the store’s clothing racks. The cake she made as a gift to his parents had been crushed and torn apart from the impact. Crumbs and apple pieces were strewn across the floor behind her further into the store next to the crumpled container.
As he quickly approached Rowan he became aware of every minute detail of her being. He saw that she still breathed raggedly and that she had sustained great injuries to her torso and legs. Several bleeding gashes marred her face. He felt a painful stab in his chest that threatened to unsteady his calm, but he held onto it tightly it for her sake. He would right this situation. He would devise a solution and get her through this.
He knelt beside Rowan and swiftly cleared the debris from around her. He refrained from moving her much as he did not want to aggravate her injuries. He gently supported her head and spoke quietly to her. His voice sounded foreign to him, wavering on the verge of tears.
“Rowan. My Rowan. Can you hear me?” Another glance down her body revealed her injuries were worse than he had first assessed. Frantically, he called to his brother behind him, “Thor! We must leave now! Asgard’s healers can save her!”
Thor motioned the onlookers to stay back and entered the destroyed shop stolidly. “Brother...her injuries are too great to travel. We should not move her—”
“Just take us!” Loki commanded as he crouched over her protectively. “I cannot bear to see her this way! She has done nothing to deserve this. If anyone should receive such harm, it should be me.” He softly added as he stroked her hair, “Why was it not me? Oh, let her be spared...”
“We cannot move her, Loki,” Thor said firmly, a pained upon his face. “We must wait for Midgard’s healers. Many witnesses have already summoned them, and they shall be here quickly.”
Loki conceded to Thor’s judgment only because he was preoccupied with Rowan’s well-being. And the baby...our baby! He pushed away the thought as he racked his mind for an answer to this situation. He knew little of healing and aid that would help in such a situation. He had already done what he could, but he had to do something. He could not lose her.
Only a minute passed, but to Loki it was a lifetime of anxiety.
Rowan’s eyes opened slowly, but in shock her eyes focused somewhere beyond Loki’s face. “Loki...” she rasped quietly.
Loki smiled and felt a pang of excited relief to hear her voice. “Do not move, my love. You have been hurt. Help comes swiftly. Relax, I am—.”
She interrupted him, lost in a vision, “Our little one...she has your eyes, Loki...like jewels...she’s here...so beautiful...” Tears welled in Rowan’s eyes, but her expression remained dazed.
“Stay with me, Rowan. Please, you must stay with—,” he pleaded desperately, suppressing his own tears.
“Calling...me...to go...” She uttered in a whisper. Tears rolled down her bloody cheeks.
“No! Rowan, you cannot— What will I—?” Loki choked back the rest, unable to continue speaking.
Rowan’s eyes glazed over with the veil of death.
As her last breath faded Loki felt a momentary weightlessness to his reality, as if a string had been cut or a cord unplugged. In its wake flooded a wave of despair and rage that would have dwarfed L’Shale’s volcanic eruption. His throat, hoarse though it was, loosed a wordless scream of raw emotion so intense it chilled even Thor’s stalwart heart. Onlookers stared, cried, and turned away in their own sadness.
But Loki’s rage left him swiftly after his bellow faded, leaving only hopelessness. He slumped over Rowan’s lifeless body, gripping her closely and sobbing quietly.
The world became blurry, all his senses dulled except the pain he felt in every fiber of his being.
She had been snatched away from him.
When the ambulance arrived several minutes later, the paramedics recorded the time of her death and took her away—he did not care where to, her spirit was gone from this world. Thor dealt with the police on Loki’s behalf. For hours Loki existed in a numb state, lost in a trauma-induced void.
She was gone.
**********
Thor accompanied Loki home to his apartment some time after nightfall. Athena was being kept by Ned and Sophia, Loki’s neighbors, for the week under the impression that they were visiting Loki’s family out of town. Loki sat down on the couch and closed his eyes. He couldn’t bear to look at the space he had shared with Rowan without his heart seizing in his chest, but he had nowhere else to go.
“Why did you not save her?” Loki desperately begged of his brother in a hoarse voice. He knew the question to be rhetorical, but he had to blame someone. It wasn’t good enough for him to trust her death was a result of chance. The situation was too traumatizing for logic to control his decisions. “If you had been more mindful—” Loki resented Thor his superhuman strength.
“The accident happened too quickly to intervene, her injuries were severe, and her body was already taxed by pregnancy.” Thor spoke plainly, but his sorrow for Loki’s pain showed. “I am so sorry for your loss, brother. I know what it is like to mourn a fallen loved one.”
“Your sympathy is irrelevant. You should be ashamed of your inaction.”
“My inaction?” Thor grew irritated. “I gave aid the same as you. I refused to transport her for her health, but unfortunately her chance to survive was slim. Decisions must be made and executed during conflict, and we must endure their consequences.” Thor had matured much since they last spent time together, it would seem. But Loki cared nothing for his brother’s achievements. Especially now.
He felt his fists clench in frustration, and his pain ebbed ever so briefly as white hot anger rushed into him.
“Hypocrite! You stood idly by while an innocent, pregnant woman who would soon be your kin was murdered!” Something very close to his old rage and hatred coursed through him, but he let it pass quickly. He was too weak to hold onto it, and misery toppled his resolve once again. He sank back into the couch, head down.
Thor let his irritation pass and continued his attempt to comfort Loki, “Brother, I implore you, come home. Your anger and sorrow cannot return her to you. Mother, father, and I can help you overcome your grief. We shall mourn together as family.”
Loki refused to look at his brother. He grasped at where he thought his long-buried hatred had retreated to, but he found nothing.
“Leave me, traitor. Spare me your pity, and run home to your family. Mine has been lost to me.” Loki’s scathing words were forced and came from a lost place Loki had not been to in over a year. It was jumbled, dark, and broken much like the ruined storefront after the crash. The place offered no comfort or resolution, only pain and loss.
“Your logic fails you, brother. You are overcome by your emotions, and you shut out those who care for you when you should...” He trailed off, understanding that he could not push Loki after such hardship. “I shall honor your request if that is your wish. Take care and farewell, Loki.” Thor departed the apartment, leaving his brother to grieve in solitude.
Loki’s attempt to lay blame on his brother had failed. He would not bear the consoling drivel Thor would push upon him. The decision to banish him was part denial and part pride. Loki had managed a crude semblance of acceptance for his family the past year, but today it had been shattered. What good was a god of a brother who could not save a helpless woman? The thought, however undeserved and inaccurate, became kindling for a growing fire.
More twigs would feed it soon enough.
**********
Several days passed dimly.
At first he could hardly think of her without choking up and crying. Yet after some time there was just nothing. A fog settled in over his thoughts, clouding his judgments and actions. He would not leave the apartment. He could not recall his last meal or the last time he slept. Loki had consigned himself to a barren hell of memories.
Sophia had brought him food at some point, but it lay in the fridge untouched. He wasn’t sure how she knew what had happened, but he didn’t care. She offered to keep Athena for as long as necessary, and he thanked her with an empty voice. She had not been back since, he did not think, but he wasn’t sure.
He couldn’t function. He canceled appointments and turned down clients that wished to visit him or send consoling items such as flowers and food. Eventually he stopped taking the calls and watched their messages collect unheard. The emotional center that held his feelings for Rowan was a hub that allowed him to connect with others, to connect with the mortal world. Now that center was incapable of allowing him to perform—it was dysfunctional and devoid of power to drive him.
He had no plan, no goal, no ambition. He struggled to find meaning to cling to and build upon, but there was nothing. Seeing the master copy of Rowan’s finished manuscript stung his eyes, and he threw it away. It was useless now. Would her book even still be printed now that she was gone? He locked the door to his bedroom and her writing room, opting instead to sleep on the couch—although the infrequent amount of sleep he had was not restful in the least. He dreamed only of her death in various ways, and each time he was helpless to save her.
He glanced at the file Nick Fury had given him more than once, but he couldn’t assist S.H.I.E.L.D. in his current state. He couldn’t make himself care; his involvement wouldn’t bring her back.
Rowan had become one more broken crux of his existence. First Thor overshadowed him, then Odin disfavored him, then his madness threatened to overtake him, and now his Rowan was lost.
Lost.
One grey day—he knew not if it was morning or night—the memory of Rowan’s voice echoed in his thoughts painfully.
What happens after an Asgardian dies?
The thought had come unbidden. He had done all he could to avoid hearing her, but painful though it was the words seemed to guide him. He entertained the suggestion rather than remain in a passive lull.
Yes...what would happen after I die? There is no honorable warrior’s death for me—I shall never grace the halls of Valhalla. Therefore Asgardian custom would dictate that my soul should rest elsewhere, in Hel.
He had neglected to tell Rowan of Hel. Hel wasn’t a place of punishment like the Hell of some Midgardian religions, it was merely the realm where all other Asgardians rested after death—the sick, the elderly, the children, and all those who do not suffer a warrior’s death. Hel contained elements of paradise as well as gloomier areas. It did not make for an interesting story like Valhalla.
Now the gears were getting into motion; he had a plan to think about and ideas to mull. For the first time in days he managed to apply logic to his situation, if still unhealthily: Rowan had been his reason to survive. If she was gone, then there was no more reason to survive. What else was there for him in this life? His business? Not essential in the least. Athena? She could easily be taken care of by someone else.
His thoughts roiled with desperate possibilities:
I was a fool to place all my faith in her. The roots of her love reached deep within me, and her passing has ripped each one from me without remorse. I have nothing now. If humanity’s destiny holds naught but despair, I wish no further part of it. My spirit cannot withstand this crushing weight without her. If Hel awaits me following death, my memories would remain. This pain would remain. Yet if I could slip from Hel back into the void...
In the void I need not worry about emotion, ambition, expectation, gain, or loss. There is and always will be nothing. No contact, no conversation. Solitude. Everlasting destitution. And from absolute nothing grows madness. It is a fitting death for one who desires nothing more than to forget.
And so he plotted a complete death worse than the suicide that would begin it.
**************
Director Nick Fury paced his small office of the newly-built compound beneath a rural area outside of Macon, Georgia. The compound was built as one of two planned to replace the base that was destroyed when the tesseract was stolen by Loki over a year ago.
So it was true irony that Fury had approached Loki two weeks ago to combat the growing threat that Thanos posed against Earth. Reports from outside sources indicated that Thanos was in possession of powerful relics that could manipulate reality, and he intended to gather more. SHIELD did not know for what purpose, but Earth had been implied as a target. That was good enough for him to take action.
When Loki had returned to Earth last year, rather than station standard agents to track him, Fury instead called in several old favors of some locals in the city Loki took residence in. Fury used these contacts as an eyes-and-ears network to track Loki’s behavior. Confident that Loki couldn’t resist the temptation of power, Fury had planned to catch the former Asgardian deep in an evil plot.
Some of Fury’s contacts included: Ophelia Leventis, a widow to a former S.H.I.E.L.D. operative who now ran an antique store; Genevieve Harris, an old friend who retired in the southern United States as a curator of historic homes; Thomas Ackerman, a former military liaison who moonlighted for S.H.I.E.L.D. during the 1980’s and was now a cook for his family’s restaurant, Etta’s; and William “Billy” Pinckney, a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent whose program was downsized 15 years ago—few know he remains on the payroll for a deeper program—but now poses as a homeless man since no one notices him or perceives him as a threat.
When news of Loki’s activities got back to Fury, he remained skeptical for months despite Thor’s assurances that Loki was a new man. But as time wore on it became evident that the former god of deception was indeed operating with a different agenda. Reports from his network read like the “good” events on the evening news: Loki helped a local used car dealership launch a more effective ad campaign rather than close down, Loki’s work at a paper processing plant increased their production rate and lowered their costs, Loki assisted a long-time restaurant owner with overhauling its image to bring in more customers.
What was the man playing at? What was he hoping to accomplish?
By his analysis, Loki’s recent actions matched his previous profile by less than 15%. He may as well be a different person.
There was a knock at Fury’s door, and he ceased pacing to greet his visitor. Agent Maria Hill stepped into the room hesitantly with files in one hand and a rope in the other. The rope lead behind her back out into the hallway.
“What is it, Hill? I don’t like your posture.”
Agent Hill straightened and cleared her throat before continuing, “Sorry to disturb you, sir, but a...message arrived for you.”
“Alright, so hand it over.”
She handed the rope to Director Fury, and he raised an eyebrow at her incredulously.
“I wasn’t sure how to handle her, so I brought her to you straight away.”
“Her? What...?” Fury tugged the rope and into the room trotted Athena, Loki and Rowan’s light brown greyhound. His face hardened, threatening to explode. “You had better start explaining this, Hill.”
Fury’s tolerance for shenanigans was quite low, and he resented many of the inter-office pranks that were sometimes played. If someone had stolen Loki’s dog...
“She came with a note, sir.” Agent Hill quickly handed a small envelope over to him. The front of it bore his name in an angular, but graceful script.
The greyhound had enough slack on her rope to reach the wall of the office and laid down against it, panting contentedly. Fury opened the envelope and unfolded the note inside of it. It was written in the same script:
There are no white picket fences.
“Do you have any more information on this?” He motioned to the dog with the note, “I believe I’ve missed something.”
“You have, sir. Loki’s fiancee was killed in a car accident last week—his pregnant fiance. Thor told us Loki was very depressed when he last saw him.”
Fury paused for a moment. “Shit. If there was any heart in Loki at all...” Realization dawned on his face. “So Thor left him alone? Get an agent on Loki pronto. A man like him is dangerous under duress. Don’t let him do anything stupid. I need him alive.” Fury laid the dog’s rope on his desk and moved quickly to the other side of his desk. He began to rifle through documents in a drawer in preparation.
“He was being watched, sir, but he slipped by our man.” Hill swallowed uneasily, fearing Fury’s wrath.
Fury paused to await Hill’s explanation, his one good eye fixed on her levelly.
”He jumped from a rooftop, sir,” she continued. “Several bystanders saw him hit the ground, watched the medics pronounce him dead, and saw the ambulance take him away. But when the vehicle arrived at the morgue, his body had vanished.”
She nodded toward Athena, patiently resting her head upon her outstretched paws. “The dog was left at a neighbor’s home with instructions to send her here by courier after his death—he knew where we were. There has been no sign of him for two days.” She handed Loki’s file to Director Fury. A large stamp bearing the phrase “Deceased/Missing” was the only addition since he had last perused it.
“Two days?” Fury slammed the open drawer shut. “Tracking Loki has been my priority recon mission for over a year, and you wait two days to tell me he committed suicide? How nice of you to fill me in,” Fury scolded heatedly.
He dropped the file onto his desk and slammed a clenched fist into it. “Damnit! I knew he was a long shot, but now we can’t afford to lose any more advantages! He was our only chance for an inside man.” Fury glared at Loki’s file. He would not have been surprised if it caught fire from the amount of frustration that burned inside him. I watch him for a year, and he slips away with no trace!
Agent Hill had straightened further to attention, avoiding his angry gaze. “Orders, sir?”
Fury’s anger subsided, and he dropped into his chair, defeated. He reclined with a sigh, rubbing his eyes. He waited a long moment before he acquiesced to resolving the current situation. He had to move forward with what he was given.
“Agent Hill.”
“Yes, sir?”
Fury tossed the rope to her.
“Get that dog a bowl of water and some food.”
**************
Author’s note:
What has become of Loki? Why did he vanish? Is he still alive?
