𝒹𝑜𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
becloaked) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
piscesnebula2023-11-17 03:02 pm
becloaked) wrote in piscesnebula2023-11-17 03:02 pmEntry tags:
becloaked) wrote in piscesnebula2023-11-17 03:02 pm
no subject
Ovae's Treatise of the Cosmos, as far as Stephen is aware, used to be at Kamar-Taj about a thousand years ago. Last seen a century ago in the hands of one Loki of Asgard, but rumor said that he'd passed it on to another location before the burning of Asgard. Stephen has chased other rumors until they ran dry, spoken to minor gods, and everything has come up empty.
Now, as Stephen sits under a gently spinning model of the known universe and watches a star go dark, he bites back a sigh, and resigns himself to going to the end of time.
Loki, as told by Thor, is dead at the hands of Thanos. Thor had told him at Stark's funeral, his features worn with grief, about how Loki had tried to take on Thanos only to get his neck snapped. A final death, this time, and not one of the many tricks Loki had pulled before. But he needs to know what Loki did with that book, and so, his thoughts have turned to another legend: a green eyed god that sits at the roots of Yggdrasil, a god of stories, a changed god with a crown of heavy horns and a sad smile. If anybody would know, it would be him.
Last week, he used a corrupted book of magic to dreamwalk into his own corpse and stop the Scarlet Witch from killing a teenager. This week, he supposes he's going to have a look at the end of time. Just another Tuesday.
It takes a day of preparation to get the right reagents and collect a relic from the currently rebuilding Kamar-Taj. America had offered to help, but he's not going to a dimension so much as he's going between them, so he has the Staff of Realms instead, a deceptively simple wooden staff that can slice open doors to the worlds between, and beyond.
He comes upon a crumbling stone dais, roots entangled as far as the eye can see glowing with threads of green. Yggdrasil is so impossibly huge that Stephen can only see the base of the trunk as a wide swath of color, and a smear of glowing leaves far, far beyond. And there the God of Stories sits, most of him obscured by the roots, and because Stephen has long since learned that he should probably try to be a tiny bit polite when he meets new gods, he dips his head, the Staff of Realms held low and non-threatening.
"I would seek an audience with he who knows the multiverse," he calls. "I come with no intent to harm, only to help. All I desire is information."
no subject
His friends are alive and no true sorrow can live in him as long as that fact remains. In the carefully guarded timelines, twisting around him in vines of light and life, he knows that they're safe on one of them--the timeline that shines the brightest under his gaze. The one that he knows as home, even if he will never see it again.
His magic grows with every passing moment, even if time means nothing at the edge of it. The power within him pulses with Yggdrasil and the connection that he shares to the timelines that he now diligently guards. This is his throne and this is his charge and he's found a peace in that. He knows that turmoil boils on some of the branches but all he can offer in his stewardship of the timelines is the free will of the creatures living within them. They will brighten or burn on their own but he's given all of himself to offer them their chances. It might even be enough to wash old sins; saving untold numbers of worlds and universes probably makes up for trying to conquer a couple planets.
A voice cracks through the din and it feels like lightning down his back. A morose peace is shattered by the sound of it. No one should be here and for a moment, he wonders how such a thing can be. Then again, he found his own way to the end of time before and he has learned long ago that nothing is impossible. For a split second, he considers the conjuring of blades and all of his amassing power to defend the timelines but promises of peace come quickly and the voice is a measured one.
It's worth investigating. If he needs to dispatch this stranger and rip him apart atom by atom, at least it will be a change of pace.
In a wave of his hand, the enormity of the branches of the world tree lift until they form an archway over him and the dais, wrapping around themselves to clear the way that might give passage to the traveler who now stands before him to approach the throne on which Loki sits.
"I am Loki, of Asgard. And I am burdened with glorious purpose."
Time is different at the end of it and in all that he has had, he never considered constructing a new greeting that he never thought he would have an opportunity to use. Green eyes fix on the man before him; a sorcerer by the looks of him. He feels power radiating off of him in waves, though he is very decidedly human. "You…do know that you're not supposed to be here, right?" he asks, a look of skepticism on his face because there are probably a hundred questions swirling in his mind at that moment. With that, he falls silent and waits for the explanation from this traveler.
no subject
"Seriously?"
He's not alone. His cloak's collar rears back in surprise as well, and the two of them are left staring silently at Loki, stumped. Because Loki of the God of Lies, of Mischief, of shapeshifters and tricksters. But here he is, the God of Stories, the god at the seat of Yggdrasil, the timeline keeper.
Well. He hasn't lost his flair for the dramatic.
"Right. Okay. Recalibrating." Stephen bites back a sigh, drags a hand over his face, and forgets his manners entirely. "I've met you before. Well, not you. You're from a different dimension. Different timeline."
A side effect of significant usage of the time stone: one gains a pretty good sense of whether someone is from a different timeline than your own. The Eye of Agamotto is still around his neck, though it doesn't house an infinity stone anymore, but hundreds of timeloops and fourteen million futures have given him a keen sense for it. It's maybe a good thing that this Loki isn't the one he met. He doubts that one would have been in any way inclined to help him.
"I find I'm particularly adept at getting into places I'm not supposed to be," he says blithely, like it's no big deal he just casually strolled right up to the base of Yggdrasil. "Impressive set-up, by the way. I came to ask the God of Stories about some information on a dead man -- fortuitously, the dead man happens to be Loki. Were you ever in possession of Ovae's Treatise on the Cosmos?"
no subject
"I suspect it was not a fruitful interaction. I'm a variant of the Loki that you encountered, splintered from your timeline some years before whatever meeting we may have had. Apologies, our time together was not significant enough for me to be aware of its passing," he explains. He, too, knows the score. He can feel where this stranger has arrived from and where in all of the vines and branches he belongs. If they met, and he has no reason to believe otherwise, it was somewhere in the inbetween of a life that Morbius showed him.
He smiles at the question and moves, rising from the throne while the branches strain and shift behind him as if they are just as alive as the god himself. "Luckily for you, stranger, there is no greater expert on me than me," he dryly replies.
He gives a wave of his hand to conjure his magic and in the green glow arrives a tea set with two cups. Piping hot. Let it never be said that Loki is not the pinnacle of hospitality. His mother would be proud. "What you seek is not for children. And you have been led somewhat astray by grandiose rumors, though it is an understandable mistake to make. A hundred years ago, give or take? No, I did not possess the book. I had Ovae's Codex. The key to finding the Treatise. It was on my bookshelf in Asgard. Which, as I am sure you are aware, is no more." Though he suspects that time is not so fine a thing that this sorcerer cannot bend it to his will to go back to a moment when Asgard stood.
"If you can walk time, you might be tempted to return to when Asgard stood and take the Codex to further your search. It will do you no good. In all the time that I held the book, my wards protected it--along with all of my things. I had a foolish brother easily bored and prone to meddling in my belongings, you understand. And I doubt my past self would be so keen to assist in lifting my magic. I was…not a kind and generous man at the time." It's a futile search and he hopes the stranger will abandon it. A sorcerer's own wards are as unique as a fingerprint and without Loki's, the Codex will be untouchable.
Still, the larger question remains.
"Why do you seek it? That book contains the darkest of magics in the oldest of things. That's no power for a mortal to wield. I did not save the timelines just so you could undo all of my good works in a search for one of the greatest powers of the universe."
no subject
This Loki is... different. The one he'd met had been quick to take offense, like a mad ferret with a splinter in its tail. This one seems significantly calmer, and far more prone to willingly sharing information. Whatever happened after he splintered off of his own timeline, it was clearly significant. Stephen can't even begin to guess what sort of events might have led him to this, to becoming the God of Stories.
He takes an offered cup of tea, one hand cupped around the bottom to offset the trembling in his fingers, and takes a sip. It's excellent tea.
"The Codex, of course that was what you had," he sighs, frustration twisting at the corner of his lips. He probably should have realized that. "Seems obvious in retrospect."
(He'd only sort of started thinking about time traveling back to before the fall of Asgard and getting it when Loki forestalls that line of thought. It wasn't a fully formed thought; besides, without the time stone, time travel magic is trickier, and significantly more annoying to manage.)
"Someone in my timeline has it," he says, staring thoughtfully down into his teacup. "I don't know who, or where they are. All I know is that they're using the book to snuff out stars, and entire solar systems along with them. The signature of its magic is quite distinctive." Pale eyes raise to regard Loki. "I'd hoped that you'd be able to tell me who the book was passed to, but if you only had the Codex, and that was destroyed in the fall of Asgard, my hunt just got a lot trickier."
no subject
"Don't sound so disappointed. You're fortunate it's only the Codex and that I never sought out the power. Did you really want the Loki you knew to have access to the Treatise?" he asks with a fleeting wry smile on his lips, "I doubt it." If Loki of Asgard had that power, things might not have gone the way the sorcerer would have liked if he'd been so inclined. He'd wanted to rule, not to destroy, so the book had remained as a relic on his shelf instead.
Loki frowns at the revelation that someone is using the power of the book to snuff out whole stars. It's a small apocalypse in comparison to, say, the whole of every timeline being snuffed out, but it doesn't sit well with him that someone has that power in a timeline he very much considers to be his even if he split from it and even if the last decade on it in 'his' life does not belong to him. This happening on a timeline where his memories reside--where his brother resides--annoys him. He knows that 'Loki' made his peace with Thor and even if he only has Morbius' images of it, he finds that a threat to the world his brother is on bothers him more than he would like.
"Maybe not," Loki says before taking a sip of his tea, "The Treatise has a companion. The Codex speaks of it--in the footnotes. Small print. Easy to miss. It's obscenely tiny print, honestly. You need the Codex to reach it but if you had the power that the second book contains, you might be able to find whoever is doing this and stop him. Most certainly it would at least help you locate the current owner of the Treatise. Magic to seek out its other half." It's a long shot, Loki assumes, but it's better than nothing.
Except there's still the little problem of the Codex being on Asgard, cloaked in Loki's wards.
no subject
Loki speaks of a companion book, and Stephen absorbs this with a thoughtful (if mildly disgruntled) hmmm. It doesn't even remotely surprise him that there's a third book in the equation here; sorcerers of old tended to be pedantic and excessive. On the other hand, it's actually good news that there's a companion book that would make the Treatise easier to find.
"Alright. So my options are, one: I get to Asgard before it falls and hope I can break the protective ward of your former self." He takes a sip of tea. "Not a likely option. If it was just a matter of raw power I could almost certainly do it, but breaking personal wards does tend to have nasty side effects, and I'm sure yours were nastier than most."
Yeah, not an option he'd be thrilled about.
"Option two, I say fuck the books and attempt to scry out their position, which would probably take me decades."
Again, not great.
"Option three, we go back to Asgard, you remove your wards, and you can read this obscenely tiny print to tell me how to find this companion book." And actually, that may be the easiest option, because he assumes this version of Loki can walk timelines as he likes. The power radiating off him-- feels different than the Loki of old, and so much more. "And after that, I deliver you back to your throne, and you can go back to... however you occupy your time here."
no subject
So that's not the best option.
The second is just a waste of time. And while it seems that the sorcerer has a good handle on the ability to work with time, there doesn't seem like there is much to lose. So that's far from ideal.
And then there's the third option.
Loki sees it coming, of course. He knows how to remove the wards, he's got the power to walk time and timelines so he could easily take them to Asgard in a moment in the timeline when the world still stood and the book was tucked on his shelf along with all of the other volumes and relics that he had collected. There's just one problem.
"You're asking me to leave it all unprotected. I pulled the timelines together to save them from destruction and I don't know what happens if I leave this place," Loki admits. The God of Stories is meant to sit at the end of time and hold everything together and if he's not there, what happens to the countless threads that feed and are fed by his magic? He doesn't know. He can't just leave forever. The God of Stories needs to remain but maybe there's a way.
He vanishes away the teacup and holds up his empty hand, rotating it so that the woven branches come to meet it. He places his fingers upon them and watches the glow of power under his fingertips. He feels the connection to the timelines and he sighs. He needs to do something and he knows that. He can't just stand aside. "I can try to put wards on them. Put as much magic as I can into them but if things start to slip, I won't be able to help you and you'll be on your own. I have to return. My place is here, not galavanting through timelines that I would take no joy in revisiting." Asgard holds nothing for him but pain and on top of leaving his charge, going back sounds…unpleasant.
no subject
It was far less rude than he used to be before he learned magic, though, so that's a win!
As Loki sees to the branches of the multiverse, Stephen drinks the last of his tea and vanishes away his own cup, a relatively simple matter of nudging the magic to return to Loki. Stephen doesn't know what happens if Loki leaves this place either. He seems fairly integral to its structural support. But, in theory, he should be able to stabilize things at least briefly, enough to leave for a little while. Long enough to find the Codex and get the information Stephen needs.
Surely there must be something he can do to help? He doesn't want to get his recent magical escapades anywhere near the timelines -- magic from the Darkhold, spread across all of Yggdrasil? that would just invite catastrophe -- but he has any number of stasis spells, energizing spells, and more that might be useful. Then again, this calls for something bigger than those.
So Stephen slips the Eye of Agamotto from around his neck, and offers it to Loki.
"Here." He probably doesn't need to explain; it was made by one of the Vishanti and housed the time stone for thousands of years, its magical signature will be obvious as one of the most powerful magical relics ever made. "Use this as an anchor. It's got enough juice in there to give a pretty substantial boost, too."
no subject
When he finishes, the branches glow green and he can feel the hum of his magic coming from them, warded and strong. Within himself, he can feel a small pull against that power, like a clock ticking seconds down. That's good--he can have a sense of when he has to return to the branches before they start to unravel and the magic in them holding it together starts to wither without the God of Stories.
He feels a small wave of exhaustion after focusing so much power, though the eye certainly helps. He hands it back to Strange and tilts his head back in the direction that he came. "This way. I don't want to toy with time too close to the branches." Just in case. The place where the sorcerer walked in will serve as a sufficient exit to go back to Asgard. The idea of a return is still rather unpleasant to him, given that the last time he has memory of being there, it was falling into the void after everything spiraled so terribly for him.
He waits for Stephen to join him to begin the walk down the steps of the dais to get clear of the timelines. "How is it that a mortal man ends up walking through time using magic?" he asks conversationally. This isn't the science of the TVA or what O.B. worked on and that Loki had to master only to discover its uselessness. He finds this man interesting, and not solely because he is the first person Loki has encountered since taking his place on the throne.
no subject
He takes the Eye back, and slips it over his head once more. Agamotto was many things, and the inherent structure of his magic is enormously helpful. It looks like it helped Loki, too. Good.
"How is that a God of Mischief became the God of Stories?" Stephen retorts, voice dry.
He makes his way down the steps, the thrumming power of the timelines behind him. If he had more time, he'd love to stay and study this -- imagine, standing at the seat of all time, beyond time, witnessing the very structure of countless timelines as branches upon Yggdrasil. This is a sight very, very few would ever see.
"Time magic is admittedly finicky and dangerous," he finally answers, "but I wielded the time stone for a long time. I'm better suited than most to find my way here." Stephen taps the end of the Staff of Realms against the stone floor. "A relic helps, too. It cuts a path to the world between realms." Which, for a novice, would be asking to be punted into some inescapable black nothingness between worlds. Fortunately, he's not a novice. "As long as you know where you're going, of course."
no subject
"Impressive. The mastery of time is no easy thing," he replies, perhaps more magnanimous than the sorcerer might have expected but Loki did spend literal centuries learning everything there was to know about the mechanics of time. It's a different thing, the magic and the science of it all, and he doubts that Stephen has all of the equations and technical knowledge that Loki had to learn in some desperate attempt to keep the Loom together, but it all ends in the same place. A mastery over time.
He continues the walk away from the throne and considers how to answer the question posed to him in kind. "In order to save the timelines and my friends, I had to become the God of Stories. The one holding all of the timelines together. There was no other way. Trust me, I played them all out." Over and over again. Sometimes he thinks about all of the time spent, though he supposes now that it really means nothing. Time doesn't have the same meaning to him anymore in the wake of everything.
Once they have put some distance between them and the convergence of the timelines, he looks to Strange. "This should be far enough to time walk safely without interfering with the branches."
no subject
Mostly because he used the words friends. Loki had friends? Where? How? The Loki that Stephen knows of was a cunning, backstabbing creature who probably couldn't keep a friend to save his life. Somehow, somewhere inbetween that Loki and this one, he'd changed enough that he found some friends. Fascinating.
(Not that Stephen can exactly point fingers. He's had very few friends over his life, mostly because he couldn't be bothered with them. Now that he's a little less full of himself, he still has maybe two friends. Plus a teenager that keeps texting him memes.)
"Should I ask what was threatening the timelines, or is that too much of a spoiler?" he asks, coming to a stop alongside Loki. He casts one glance back at the branches, still marveling at the sight. "Because either something was intrinsically unstable about the matter of the timelines and it needed someone to hold them together, or someone was making them unstable, in which case, I should probably be on alert."
no subject
It's also probably a good idea that the sorcerer be aware of a potential threat.
"He Who Remains," he replies, "He has…passed on. There are other versions of him in other branches of the timelines--variants of him that are dangerous--but he was the one at the end of time when we reached it. The maintenance of his vision of 'order' meant the deaths of billions. The destruction of timelines and all that lived within them. Or I hold the timelines together. It was a surprisingly easy choice to make." Or maybe Stephen wouldn't believe it to be. Then again, the old Loki craved power and what greater power was there than to hold the entirety of the timelines in his grasp? The irony now is that he doesn't want it. All he wants is to be with his friends. Though maybe in this little misadventure, he can learn how to maintain Yggdrasil in his absence.
Coming to a stop, he looks to Stephen. "Come to think of it, I've never time slipped with someone else before," he remarks. He's only carried himself through, though he supposes that the dynamics of it are relatively the same. His power has only grown and his grasp of time is all the more powerful for it. "I hope it doesn't kill you. Would be a pity," he deadpans before smiling, "I'm joking. I'm sure you'll be fine. Here, come stand here and we'll be on our way."
What? He is still the God of Mischief, after all.
SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY the holidays really got the best of me 😭
The choice that Loki faced -- the destruction of all timelines, or rooting himself permanently at the end of time -- is an easy choice. It's the same sort of choice Stephen faced against Dormammu. The kind of choice that would make a person agonize over their options in a time of peace, but proves startlingly easy to choose when push truly comes to shove, at the very moment of potential annihilation.
He... hadn't suspected Loki had that sort of altruism in him. Stephen's impressed.
Loki's deadpanned joke has Stephen rolling his eyes (and the collar of the Cloak rearing back in offense), but he dutifully comes to stand next to Loki. "Time traveling with my corpse alongside you would prove too annoying even for you, I think," he drawls. The Cloak flaps a corner, as it to say, and also I'd be mad as well. "I assume you'll be taking us to a time on Asgard when you weren't present for a while, to avoid the possibility of running into yourself?"