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Sylvie is lying on the couch with her upper back supported by a mountain of soft pillows. These new, unfamiliar peaceful moments still seem surreal to her. Normally unfazed by the roar of erupting volcanos, relentless meteor showers and torrential storms, the sound of the warm crackling fire and the crisp turning of book pages feels like an alternative reality to her.
Since defeating the TVA, she supposes it kind of is!
The lounge room is starting to dim into the evening, golden rays from the setting sun streaming through the large window across from them. Sylvie places her bookmark in the hardcover she is reading and watches as the sun sails down the horizon of Loch Ness.
They had settled into this cosy, high ceiled cottage in Fort Augustus by the loch a few days ago now. Using their TemPad, they travelled to 1933 and rented this place together with some money that Loki had conjured up. She had to admit, when Loki introduced themselves to the owner as husband and wife she was surprised to feel an unexpected buzz of adrenaline rush through her. What is happening to me? She had wondered.
She is getting used to their days together since the TVA. She is beginning to heal from the bitterness and anger that dominated her personality while fulfilling her mission. It isn’t easy for her, but each day they spend together, she feels the defensive walls that she has always relied on to shut others out, slowly crumbling away as she accustoms herself to the non-apocalyptic worlds that have travelled to so far.
She looks at the man sitting at the opposite end of the couch, peacefully reading his own hardcover. Her legs are propped up over his lap, where his book is resting against her ankles. Every so often when he turns a page, his hand brushes against her skin. If Sylvie didn’t know any better she may have thought it was an innocent, clumsy accident… but his touch always lingers a fraction longer than necessary.
Sylvie smiles inwardly. She feels a safeness… a tenderness with him that she had never known before.
She started feeling these unknown feelings towards him on Lamentis-1. At the time, the unknown feelings terrified and shocked her. She hated him for it. How dare he intrude upon her life, ruin her years-in-the-making plan, and to top it off, cause her to question her feelings around him!
Now that her mission was over, she could have chosen to leave him behind at the TVA. They could have parted ways so she could carry on with her life on her own. But after the elation she felt when defeating the TVA had worn off, she was surprised to feel an emptiness inside her that made her ask herself… What now?
Her timeline was still destroyed. Her childhood was still taken away from her with no way of returning back. Without the mission to drive her, she felt more lost and alone than ever.
Even Loki had admitted he didn’t know what was next for him either, and seemed just as lost as she felt. But then, he offered her his hand.
“Maybe we can figure it out… together.”
She took his hand, and never looked back.
She used to think he was so insufferable, and at first she couldn’t stand hearing his voice. But now, his company felt like her saviour. She finds herself thoroughly enjoying his company, and even wonders how she managed to keep sane without him by her side all this time.
She had certainly enjoyed his company earlier today as they explored the town together and walked along the loch. They had somehow gotten onto the topic of their powers, particularly the similarities and differences of their abilities. They had bickered and argued for almost ten minutes until they felt the need to prove themselves, consequently wreaking havoc on the town.
Sylvie demonstrated her mind control abilities on almost every person they passed by, convincing them to reveal their deepest secrets, the ones that they were too ashamed to tell their families. And because she couldn’t resist, she then urged them to return to their families and come clean to their loved ones. She smirked at the inevitable chaos that would ensue. Loki looked at her with fake disapproval.
“What?” she counted. “I am liberating them of their shame.”
He scoffed at that. Then, in a demonstration of his ‘superior’ illusion casting, he cast a projection of a large, long necked reptile emerging from the lake. The creature roared ferociously before ducking back below the water. He even conjured the ripple effect it left in its wake, enhancing the illusion. She had to admit, it would have fooled her.
Following his demonstration, Sylvie jerked her head to the sound of a distant motor car skidding off the road, diving off the ledge and crashing into a tree at the cliff’s edge, just saving it from plummeting into the water. A couple climbed out of the vehicle just before a fire erupted from the vehicle’s engine.
“You idiot,” she laughed.
“Oops. That wasn’t part of the plan.”
As she reflects on the day they had, she struggles to remember a time when she had this much fun.
“You’re staring.” He smirks, never looking away from his page.
“Is staring not allowed?” She quips, as he snaps her attention back to reality.
She enjoys the way they banter together, like every conversation is a game to be won. She wonders how long it will take him to turn away from his reading to meet her gaze. Or if he will instead taunt her and force her to make the next move?
She rolls her eyes. Of course he is going to taunt her.
She knows she’s lost this one, but she holds out a little longer knowing that the extra bit of waiting will stir him just as crazy as it does her. She finds herself longing to hear his voice.
“Will you read to me?” She asks innocently.
He quirks his eyebrow. Clearly her request amuses him. “As you wish.”
He begins reading from the book he was already reading from.
“No, something else,” she interrupts. “Read me something… something that reminds you of home.”
“Very well.” He sets his book down and conjures up a small tattered book almost hanging from its bindings. It was certainly well loved, and perhaps even centuries old. “How about some Asgardian poetry?”
She nods her approval before resting her head on the side of the couch, relaxing further into the pillows.
“When I was young, my mother would read these to me before bed,” he explains, flicking through the pages. She observes a flash of guilt in his eyes. He has yet to tell her the full story about his mother, but she could tell something happened that deeply pains him. She must be very special for him to carry the book with him. She feels a sense of appreciation that he willing to share this part of himself with her.
“I remember so little about my mother… but I do have a few distant memories of her reading to me,” she smiles sadly.
Loki rests his free hand on her knee and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Then I hope this reminds you of her.”
He begins to read some of his favourites. He recites the poems mostly in Asgardian and weaves back to the common tongue every so often. His clear, relaxing voice mesmerises her. She closes her eyes and relaxes deeper into his touch. His fingers gently massage her knee as he reads. She feels like he is transporting her home to her childhood home as he continues reading.
“Mmm… I could listen to these forever,” she sighs, transfixed by his words. He chuckles and continues on.
The way he rhythmically pronounces each ‘s’ sound sends shivers down her spine. Does he even realise the effect his stupidly seductive voice has on her? She wonders how she ever found his voice irritating. Or perhaps having him read to her wasn’t such a great idea after all, considering how he is making her feel right now…
He recites five poems by the time the room becomes too dark to read. Loki flicks on a lamp with his magic and sets the book of poems down on the nearby table.
“Thank you for reading to me,” she murmurs, hoping she somehow isn’t revealing the effect he is having on her.
“My pleasure,” he purrs, admiring how comfortable she looks, spread out over the couch and over his lap. He has been enjoying the changes in her demeanour since bringing down the TVA. The constant guard she usually holds up is noticeably fading away.
Loki moves his hand under her knees and bends her legs towards her chest to free himself. He stands up to add another log to the fire.
Sylvie swings her legs around to sit upright on the couch and crossed her legs. She observes him as he stokes the fire, and somehow she is reminded of the ridiculousness of their day.
Against her will, she lets out an uncontrolled laugh.
“What are you laughing at?” He smirks.
“I still can’t believe you’re responsible for the Loch Ness Monster!” She exclaims.
Loki shrugs as he pours two glasses of the red wine. “How could I resist?”
She understands the temptation for causing mischief all too well. “Now I know the real reason you chose this time and place. To stoke the urban legend.”
Loki grinned. “This is one of my favourite places on Midgard. To keep myself entertained, I couldn’t help but starting a bit of a prank on the locals.” He smirks. He offers her a glass and sits back down next to her.
She takes a sip of the dark, fruity taste of the smooth, cool liquid. Loki conjures a blanket over their laps and rests his free arm over the top of the couch behind her head. She feels the tension between them growing but pretends not to notice.
“The locals are probably organising a task force to hunt Nessie,” she snorts.
“That’s if they haven’t returned to their families after all your enchantments…” he bantered.
Sylvie sighs and holds her glass up to him. “To the chaos that awaits us tomorrow.” She mockingly toasts. Their glasses clink together.
It’s moments like these she truly treasures. She feels intimacy and the tension growing to an almost unbearable level. She is far too nervous to act upon her feelings towards him. She isn’t good at this. She’s never known anything… real before.
They were keeping separate sleeping quarters at night. Each time they say goodnight to each other, she feels that same emptiness she felt when realising how alone she felt after defeating the TVA, even though he’s only in the next room. When they’re together, she feels at home.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he whispers.
Sylvie meets his gaze. “Do you miss home?”
“Very much. I didn’t realise how much… until recently…” He sadly admits. He pauses and Sylvie notices how painful this question is for him as he searches for the right words. “Mobius showed me my life on the Sacred Timeline… I was so bitter towards my father when I found out I was adopted… Asgard, which I had always believed to be my home, felt like a falsehood… My anger made me lose sight of everything that truly mattered.”
Sylvie’s heart aches for him. She inches slightly closer to him to place her hand on his knee underneath the blanket, a small gesture of comfort, expressing what she cannot put in words.
“I suppose I got what I deserved,” he continued. “I betrayed my father, my mother, my brother, everyone who ever loved me. Perhaps it’s for the best that I’ve been removed from the Scared Timeline…”
She understands his pain. “We’ve both done terrible things. But that doesn’t mean we deserve to be alone.” He takes a deep breath and his expression softens.
“What about you? Do you miss home?”
“I barely remember what home feels like,” she sighs. She longs for the childhood that was denied to her, grieves for the life she never had. “I wish I could return to my childhood and continue my life from when…” her voice breaks.
“From when they took you.” He pushes a strand of her hair behind her eye. Her heart skips a beat as she feels his smooth fingers slowly brushing against her scalp. She lets out a slow breath.
Maybe it’s the wine, maybe it’s how honest and open he is being with her, or maybe it’s his touch sparking something in her that gives her the courage to say, “I miss home, but this… this feels like home… with you.”
He appears distracted as he toys with a strand of her hair. Sylvie wants to melt into his touch but feels nervous as she waits for him to say something. And why is his face so close?
“Sylvie…” he breathes. “May I kiss you?”
“What?” She brushes his hand away and straightens on the couch. “Were you listening to anything I just said? No, you may not kiss me!”
His eyes light up with amusement. “No?”
“Kissing you? An inferior Variant of myself? I don’t think I’ve had enough wine to even consider such a notion.” She mocks, retreating from the couch to pour herself some more wine.
Loki rolls his eyes and stands up so she can top up his glass. “Moment killer,” he teased.
Sylvie scoffs, “Me? I’m not the one getting all sentimental! And you know I’m not good at this.” She adds uncomfortably.
“Sorry, this? He stepped closer to her, pretending to be confused. “I’m not following.”
“This!” She cries, gesturing with a finger back and forth between them.
“Still not following…”
“Oh, shut up and drink your wine.” She turns to face the window in a vain attempt to hide her amusement. He’s already tipsy!
She watches his reflection in the window as he moves to stand beside her. “What are you doing?” she asks nervously as he moves well within her personal space.
Loki leans in and purrs, “I also… feel at home with you.”
Their eyes met and Sylvie expects to see his teasing grin, but is surprised to see how serious and sincere his expression is. A wave of warmth washes over her. She wants to tell him how badly she wants him. But she’s afraid that anything this good, anything that feels like home, might get taken away from her again. “I’ve lost my home once before…” Her unsaid words hung in the air.
“So have I,” he admits, understanding her meaning. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She exhales, and blinks away a tear. “Promise?”
Loki caresses her check, brushing the tear away with his thumb. “With all my heart.”
In that moment, time slows. She still isn’t sure how he has this effect on her, as she feels a magnetic pull towards him. For the first time since her childhood, she feels safe… secure… loved.
Their lips touch in a tender kiss.
Her heart races as she feels a fierce bonfire igniting in her chest. He holds her so delicately in his arms, and she feels what remains of her defensive walls completely crumble away. She feels the kiss liberate her from the mask she has grown accustomed to wearing her whole life. She deepens the kiss to convey everything that she’s felt too nervous and vulnerable to say.
He kisses her with a tenderness that equally expresses more than words. All this time, she thought revenge against the TVA was the key to her happiness. How wrong she had been…
“Your lips taste like wine.” It’s all she can think to say as they break for air.
“And you taste divine.” He mutters.
Sylvie almost rolls her eyes but is surprised to hear herself laugh. “That’s enough poetry for one night.”
Loki chuckles and Sylvie sinks into his warm embrace. He presses his lips to hair and they stand like this for what seems like the rest of the night. She buries her face into his chest, as if she’s trying to hide from the overwhelming feelings consuming her. This must be what it feels like to feel something real… to fall in love.
“So… do you still think love is a dagger?” She mumbles into his chest.
“No. Love is…” He ponders, searching for the right words. She feels a rush of adrenaline as she waits for him to finish the metaphor. “Love is home… and home is wherever you are.”