Two Blades, One Dagger

Poptarts: the Midgardian Delicacy

Loki didn't dream much that night. 

For the first time in forever, he slept soundly through the entire night without any worry or anxiety plaguing him. However, he heard faint excerpts of conversation whispered in the back of his mind. He wasn't sure who exactly the voices belonged to, but one was female and the other male. 

"This is taking too long," said the man. "It's pointless."

"One more day," the woman replied. "That's all I need."

"We're not going to get anywhere, and we don't have time to waste!"

"I know, but I just have to be sure about this."

*******

Loki squinted as the light from the rising sun shone into his eyes. Sylvie sat cross-legged on the left side of the bed eating a plate of scrambled eggs and Poptarts. Loki smiled. "Ah, breakfast in bed," he mused. "How kind of you." He reached over to snatch one of her Poptarts, but she smacked his hand away. "What?" he laughed. "Do I not get to eat?"

"Do I look like your mama to you?" Sylvie said, raising an eyebrow. 

"Well," Loki replied, "to be fair, I actually don't know what my real mother looked like, so technically you could very well look like her. However, I would rather you didn't look like my mother."

"Exactly. Go make your own damn breakfast, Loki." 

Loki scoffed. "Fine. It's not like I indulge myself on whatever Midgardian food that is, anyway," he said while gesturing towards the Poptart. 

"Oh this?" Sylvie said as she took a bite of the frosting covered goodness. "This, Loki, is a Poptart, and I will have you know that it is one of the finest delicacies that Midgard has to offer." 

Loki rolled his eyes. "I won't take my chances." He waved his hand, and a plate of fine Asgardian steak and eggs appeared before him, along with a platter piled high with fruit and nuts. 

As he plucked a grape from the platter, Sylvie laughed. "My gods, you're such a prince." 

"Oh, I know," Loki replied with a grin. 

They finished breakfast, and Loki sauntered over to his wardrobe to change into more fitting attire. After all, the shirt he had worn on his adventures through the TVA was all but trashed. He could've magically changed outfits with the wave of a hand, but he wanted to feel the mundane satisfaction of picking out new clothes. His old battle armor was there, as well as the formal black and gold cloak he wore to banquets. There were also some new additions to the wardrobe: smaller garments that had no chance of fitting him. He assumed they belonged to Sylvie. Finally, Loki decided on black pants and a black shirt, adorned with an emerald green cape with gold trim. He check himself out in his full length mirror, and Sylvie stifled a laugh from across the room. 

"What's so funny?" Loki snapped.

"You're a deva!" she scoffed.

"I am not!" he exclaimed. 

"Don't try to deny it! I saw you checking out your ass in the mirror a second ago."

"I am not a deva!"

This time, Sylvie rolled her eyes. "For what it's worth, Loki Laufeyson, God of Mischief, your ass looks fabulous," she said sarcastically. 

Loki sighed and sat back down on his bed beside Sylvie, putting his arm around her. She leaned against him. "Not that this morning hasn't been anything less than splendid already, but I believe that we have some serious catching up to do," she said after a moment of silence. "I have some questions." 

"That makes two of us. You first," Loki replied. 

"Fire away."

"Well, first off, where did you learn to do that weird portal thing- you know, where I was falling into an endless void for, oh I don't know, eternity?"

Sylvie laughed. "Stop being dramatic. It wasn't that long. I learned it while I was at the end of the timeline. The house had an endless library, and there were many ancient books about magic I had never heard of before. I spent a lot of time practicing, and eventually I picked up some new skills. That's also how I got us back to Asgard, in case you were wondering." 

Loki wasn't satisfied with such a short answer, but he figured he would press her later on for more details. "What about the timeline? Why did you leave? Did the evil variant of He Who Remains come back already?" 

Sylvie stayed silent for a very long time, staring forward out onto the balcony. "I- I had to find you. When I sent you through the time door, I didn't pay attention to the location I sent you to. For all I knew, you could've been in danger, or worse, dead. As for He Who Remains, when I killed him, he disappeared, and my head started to feel very fuzzy. I passed out, and when I woke up, I couldn't remember any details about him. I couldn't remember anything he said to us, what he looked like, what he said would happen if I killed him. Nothing. It was like all my memories of him had died when he did. All I remember is his name, and that he said something really, really awful was going to happen when I killed him." 

She seemed unnerved at that last part, so Loki gave her shoulder a slight squeeze for reassurance. She looked up at him and smiled. "Ok, Loki. I've shared," she said. "Now it's your turn. Spill." 

Loki pondered everything that had happened to him in the past 24 hours. "Well," he began, "when you shoved me through the time door, you sent me to the TVA. However, it wasn't the TVA from the Sacred Timeline. I ran into Mobius and Hunter B-15 there, but they didn't know who I was, and they tried to capture me, so I ran. I was backed into a corner, which wasn't necessarily dire- only a minor inconvenience, and preparing to fight with Mobius. Then, you portaled me into the endless pit of doom, and I ended up here."

Sylvie nodded. "And what of He Who Remains? Do you remember anything about him?" 

"Oh, yeah. Really charismatic fellow. Thought he was very funny, holding all of the timeline's knowledge over our heads like he thought he was some kind of god. Even though killing him unleashed a multiverse, and the universe is now rapidly spiraling out of control, I don't disagree with your decision." 

Sylvie chuckled halfheartedly, but she didn't seem amused by the remark. "Could you describe him to me- like, everything you remember?"

Loki didn't understand her sudden desperation for knowledge. After all, she had abandoned the timekeeper's house, which probably held more clues about his identity than anywhere else. However, she seemed troubled by being clueless, so if describing the Fool Who Remained would make her feel some relief, then Loki was happy to do so. "He looked like a normal Midgardian citizen. About average height, male. He wore a dumb purple robe and sat behind a desk in the upper floor of the house. We tried to fight him, but he already knew every move we would make because he had written out our actions. He knew we had come to kill him, and he gave us two options. One: he would step down, and we would take his role as the keepers of the Sacred Timeline. Two: we would kill him and unleashed a multiversal war where evil variants of himself would fight for control over the timeline. Then, you shoved me through the time door." 

Sylvie furrowed her eyebrows in deep concentration. Then, she cupped the side of Loki's face and stared intently into his eyes. "Tell me more," she said sternly.

Loki was taken aback by her sudden intensity. It didn't align with her typically witty, calculated demeanor at all. "If you must know," he laughed. "He was a fool. I mean, the man was an absolute idiot! He was outnumbered and outgunned, yet he just sat there smiling and trying to taunt us like a clown! Sylvie, I don't see why you're so worried about him. After all, he's dead, and as far as I'm concerned, defeating the evil variants of him is somebody else's problem."

Sylvie nodded slowly. Then, she stood up, never breaking eye contact with Loki, and turned to face him. "Thank you, Loki," she said with a wry smile, "for your cooperation." 

*If y'all would like to see more Loki/Sylvie action, check out my new story: Loki's World!*