Fic: The Quality of Mercy
Fill for this prompt on Norsekink: "Most people hated "X Men: Last Stand" but I always loved the scene near the end where Dark Phoenix/Jean Grey is ripping everything apart and asks Wolverine to kill her.
Rewrite this scene with Loki in the Phoenix role, he is out of control, destroying everything but crying and desperately begging Thor to kill him and end it all. Make me cry anon! "
This had all happened before and it would all happen again. It didn’t make it any easier to deal with the utter inevitability of the situation. Time was a circle, always in motion, always flowing, never stagnant.
Thor was reminded of the Ouroboros snake, Loki’s child, the World Serpent. Forever eating its own tail, the same ring, never breaking, unending. When the day arrived for him to rise from the sea, the world would be covered by the cleansing waters and everyone would perish. Yet it would not be the end. Nothing was final. All had purpose.
The End is the Beginning is the End. The world stood ready to drown and then rise from the tides anew.
Many of the cultures of this world called it many different things. The Great Wheel needed to turn; the Circle of Life must not be disturbed; the Phoenix would rise from the ashes, cleansed in fire and wreathed in flame, gloriously red and golden once more.
Time marched inexorable on, always to the steady beat of Life’s Drum. Fate smiled at Destiny.
Yet, here, on Midgard, at the end of this Life Cycle, Thor was tasked with stopping Loki.
The Avengers stood with him, but this duty was Thor’s alone. No one could face the wrathful God of Mischief save the God of Thunder. Even Odin Allfather himself stood apart from this fight.
All around them, Earth burnt, and the Nine Realms wept.
Ragnarök had arrived.
Thor had Mjolnir in his hand as he made his way towards Loki. The familiar weight of the great hammer was a comfort in these moments. This was a routine that had been choreographed long before either of their births. The play was written, the parts assigned. They were actors on the great stage and now they simply awaited the last performance and the final curtain.
The battle had raged around them, fierce and deadly. Not all would see this last, great, destined confrontation of the two brothers. Countless mortals had fallen to Loki’s madness already, turned to ash by the power of the cosmic cube.
Even the Avengers were not immune to the constraints of mortality. Steve had his arms wrapped around the battered and dented body of Tony, the Iron Man helmet discarded and the genius’s eyes open but unseeing. Loki had brought a building down on top of him, and even the armor could not save him. Steve sobbed and stroked Tony’s face, his shield laying forgotten a few feet away. His hands bleed from digging Tony out from the rubble.
Natasha and Fury were attempting to drag a screaming Coulson from the unmoving body of Hawkeye. Fury’s arms wrapped around the other agent’s chest and Natasha held one arm as they tried to move him backwards to cover. Coulson fought them, trying to buck them off and return to his fallen lover’s side. His free hand stretched out, fingers opening and closing, seeking to touch the skin that was rapidly cooling.
Thor continued on, thunder and lightning rolling in his wake. This path was his alone to walk. Loki awaited him atop the crumbled remains of a building. He looked every inch the vengeful God sneering down at the chaos his actions had unleashed. Yet Thor had spent millenniums in his company, knew his face intimately. Loki suffered. He knew his role here at the end of all things, but that did not mean that Loki enjoyed playing it.
His skin stood out pale against his raven hair. Face and skin streaked with blood, dirt, and soot, Loki’s spear shoot beams of magically light at targets all around him. His eyes were pure black, no pupil and iris visible. The magic Loki drew from left black spider-web like lines all over his body.
Thor struggled to reach him, the torrent of magic and destruction pushing him back even as he forced himself forwards. Also towards Loki. No matter what obstacles lay in his way, Thor would always find Loki. He finally reached the pinnacle of the structure, and stood face-to-face with his brother.
Loki snarled at him. “You’d die for them, brother? For your precious mortals?” Thor smiled softly at him. “No, Loki,” Loki visible flinched at that phrase.
“Not for them. For you. For you.”
It was for only a moment but Loki’s eyes cleared and the black magic lines faded. For one perfect moment, the green that Thor was so familiar with met his own blue eyes. Loki franticly grabbed Thor’s hands, pressed them to his face. “Save me.”
Thor nodded and raised Mjolnir. “I love you, Loki.” He brought the hammer down swiftly, snapping Loki’s neck with one blow. Like a marionette with its strings suddenly severed, Loki went limp in Thor’s embrace. Somewhere in the distance, the World Serpent roared and Thor heard the rush of water as the world flooded. He simply held Loki in his arms and waited for the quickening tides to claim him. The cold and darkness was instantaneous. Now the cycle could begin once more.
Rebirth.
Rewrite this scene with Loki in the Phoenix role, he is out of control, destroying everything but crying and desperately begging Thor to kill him and end it all. Make me cry anon! "
This had all happened before and it would all happen again. It didn’t make it any easier to deal with the utter inevitability of the situation. Time was a circle, always in motion, always flowing, never stagnant.
Thor was reminded of the Ouroboros snake, Loki’s child, the World Serpent. Forever eating its own tail, the same ring, never breaking, unending. When the day arrived for him to rise from the sea, the world would be covered by the cleansing waters and everyone would perish. Yet it would not be the end. Nothing was final. All had purpose.
The End is the Beginning is the End. The world stood ready to drown and then rise from the tides anew.
Many of the cultures of this world called it many different things. The Great Wheel needed to turn; the Circle of Life must not be disturbed; the Phoenix would rise from the ashes, cleansed in fire and wreathed in flame, gloriously red and golden once more.
Time marched inexorable on, always to the steady beat of Life’s Drum. Fate smiled at Destiny.
Yet, here, on Midgard, at the end of this Life Cycle, Thor was tasked with stopping Loki.
The Avengers stood with him, but this duty was Thor’s alone. No one could face the wrathful God of Mischief save the God of Thunder. Even Odin Allfather himself stood apart from this fight.
All around them, Earth burnt, and the Nine Realms wept.
Ragnarök had arrived.
Thor had Mjolnir in his hand as he made his way towards Loki. The familiar weight of the great hammer was a comfort in these moments. This was a routine that had been choreographed long before either of their births. The play was written, the parts assigned. They were actors on the great stage and now they simply awaited the last performance and the final curtain.
The battle had raged around them, fierce and deadly. Not all would see this last, great, destined confrontation of the two brothers. Countless mortals had fallen to Loki’s madness already, turned to ash by the power of the cosmic cube.
Even the Avengers were not immune to the constraints of mortality. Steve had his arms wrapped around the battered and dented body of Tony, the Iron Man helmet discarded and the genius’s eyes open but unseeing. Loki had brought a building down on top of him, and even the armor could not save him. Steve sobbed and stroked Tony’s face, his shield laying forgotten a few feet away. His hands bleed from digging Tony out from the rubble.
Natasha and Fury were attempting to drag a screaming Coulson from the unmoving body of Hawkeye. Fury’s arms wrapped around the other agent’s chest and Natasha held one arm as they tried to move him backwards to cover. Coulson fought them, trying to buck them off and return to his fallen lover’s side. His free hand stretched out, fingers opening and closing, seeking to touch the skin that was rapidly cooling.
Thor continued on, thunder and lightning rolling in his wake. This path was his alone to walk. Loki awaited him atop the crumbled remains of a building. He looked every inch the vengeful God sneering down at the chaos his actions had unleashed. Yet Thor had spent millenniums in his company, knew his face intimately. Loki suffered. He knew his role here at the end of all things, but that did not mean that Loki enjoyed playing it.
His skin stood out pale against his raven hair. Face and skin streaked with blood, dirt, and soot, Loki’s spear shoot beams of magically light at targets all around him. His eyes were pure black, no pupil and iris visible. The magic Loki drew from left black spider-web like lines all over his body.
Thor struggled to reach him, the torrent of magic and destruction pushing him back even as he forced himself forwards. Also towards Loki. No matter what obstacles lay in his way, Thor would always find Loki. He finally reached the pinnacle of the structure, and stood face-to-face with his brother.
Loki snarled at him. “You’d die for them, brother? For your precious mortals?” Thor smiled softly at him. “No, Loki,” Loki visible flinched at that phrase.
“Not for them. For you. For you.”
It was for only a moment but Loki’s eyes cleared and the black magic lines faded. For one perfect moment, the green that Thor was so familiar with met his own blue eyes. Loki franticly grabbed Thor’s hands, pressed them to his face. “Save me.”
Thor nodded and raised Mjolnir. “I love you, Loki.” He brought the hammer down swiftly, snapping Loki’s neck with one blow. Like a marionette with its strings suddenly severed, Loki went limp in Thor’s embrace. Somewhere in the distance, the World Serpent roared and Thor heard the rush of water as the world flooded. He simply held Loki in his arms and waited for the quickening tides to claim him. The cold and darkness was instantaneous. Now the cycle could begin once more.
Rebirth.