Second in a series of one shots, just because I've never done a BTVS fiction (or a BTVS Halloween fiction) and I feel left out.
Seriously? Okay, I do not own BTVS or this version of Loki. I'd like to but, alas, Joss Whedon and a bunch of folks working for Marvel got there before me.
If you are the rights holder to Loki and you want to sign him over, just let me know. I can pay you a dollar a week. That'd only take forever, but – hey – I promise my great-great-great-grandkids are good for it... If I ever have a kid.
This should only appear on fanfiction dot net, AO3 and TtH.
This.. was not where he was a moment before.
Normally, that wouldn't bother him. He'd been known to travel through realms in the blink of an eye, simply for the sake of his own amusement. But, he had never – never
– been transported without his consent before. It was unnerving.
The body around him was alternately freezing from his very nature and burning in the maelstrom that was his magic. It was being consumed from the inside out, unable to contain him. It would die, ultimately, if he didn't stop it. The death would be painful and slow, but he would be freed. The only problem was that he'd have to experience that death along with his host, and he most certainly did not want to do that.
Loki Odinson? Laufeyson?
He supposed it no longer mattered... He was The God of Mischief, and – he may not be the hero type – but he understood self-preservation. He understood it very well.
So he delved into the only slightly-protesting mind of his host. His goal was the knowledge that would allow him to break the spell containing him. And then he found something interesting in his memories. A valkyrie desendant?
In the days of old, he knew, the valkyrie had walked with humans. They had married them. Indeed, the combination had been so common that no one had remarked upon it after a while. Doing so would have been commenting that it was raining while standing in a hurricane – pointless.
He frowned. These Watchers were ill-using the gift of a strong warrior, if the boy's memories and half-formed ideas were anything to go by. Perhaps he'd research it more thoroughly later. If he didn't get distracted by dealing with his brother...
He found the memory he sought. The person who had encouraged the boy to masquerade as a god for the sake of this chaos. He glanced at the activity around him appreciatively. And it is most certainly a beautiful chaos.
Still, he couldn't allow it. He would not allow it. No mere mortal could be permitted to play with him
this way. It set a bad precedent.
He allowed himself – just for a moment – to savor the joy the boy had felt on being offered the costume. Apparently, he was awed and pleased to be able to represent him on this celebration of 'trick or treat.' His approval of such a mischievous celebration aside, Loki couldn't help but appreciate someone who felt he was... worthy? Is that the word?
It mattered not.
He completely missed the red-haired girl running towards him and screaming his host's name.
With a small poof, he was gone. Time and space bent around him and he was breaking the nose of the 'Chaos Mage' who dared to think that Janus – Janus!
– was a better embodiment than he. A few alterations to the spell, and he smashed the statue to the ground. His lips twitched into a smirk as he was semi-forcibly ejected from the host body.You know how to reach me, Child of Chaos.
Xander shook himself slightly and looked down at the unconscious body of Ethan Raine. His hand lifted and there was now a – literal – ass sleeping where the man had once been. Loki had left behind many things. Knowledge. Instinct. Magical power.
He fingered the sigil of Loki that hung from a chain around his neck. It had been plastic. Now it was metallic, hard in a way that the metals of Earth were not. Uru-metal
his mind supplied. A true link to my new patron.
After a moment's consideration, he eyed the creature and smiled. A simple transmogrification was too boring. It was so last century. The ass changed. The body was that of a nanny goat, heavy with young. The head was a dog's – a Pomeranian, if he wasn't mistaken. The front legs were that of a chicken and the rear legs had been replaced by the large wheels of the wheelchair in the corner.Much better.
He let his mind drift to finding his friends, but then decided that he had other things to do at the moment. He didn't know how long this would last, and he definitely wanted to have a chat
with the drunk that called itself his father. This will be amusing.
The Morning After
The others were looking at him in shock. Whether it was because his eyes were now a vivid, startling green, or because he no longer wore a garish Hawaiian shirt and jeans was up for debate. He stood there, half in shadow and half in light, waiting for their reaction. He wasn't disappointed.
"Xander?" Willow's voice cut through the room. "What happened? Are you all right?"
He looked at her, then at the others. "Your concern, though late, is most appreciated. As you can no doubt tell, I experienced an.. enlightening..
time last night." He took an inordinate amount of pleasure in watching their eyes widen at his changed speech pattern. "There seem to have been some consequences to the mischief that may or may not fade in time."
Giles practically ripped his glasses off of his head in his haste to polish them. "W-what...? W-who? How?"
He allowed a not-so-comforting smirk to grace his features. "Ah, now that is a tale. One told best around a crackling fire with wolves howling in the night. But, I suppose that a library full of dusty tomes and nearly-accurate facts will have to do."
He moved to sprawl in a newly-created green wing back chair with Loki's nonchalantly elegant grace and seemingly casual disregard. "I suppose it began last night. Or it began centuries ago. Or full turnings of fate and reality. No place I begin is truly the beginning. Merely a blip of a reference point in a cosmos that ceaselessly annihilates and re-creates itself.
"I assure you, however, that I am Xander Harris. I am merely changed. Rupert, I have your old friend – Ethan – and my new patron deity to thank for the differences. Though only my deity has earned gratitude for my survival." He met the horrified Watcher's eyes. Yes, now you see the pendant.
"What do you know of Loki? Known as Odinson and as Laufeyson?"
Giles glasses cracked in his hand.
In A Place Between
Loki watched the Watchers. He spun time back and forward. He turned the weave of Fate to the left, to the right, sideways and upside down. Every replay of their actions just infuriated him further.
He knew what it was like to be weak. He knew what it felt like to have forces controlling you. He knew what it meant to scream for death and have it denied. The Slayer, Sineya... She could have been reliving his life – only averting Ragnarok instead of causing it. Over and over again her life was taken and restarted, her soul migrating to yet another vessel. Just so that these "Powers That Be" could claim that they were maintaining some foolish Balance.
Worlds shuddered as alignments subtly changed. The weave of Fate slipped out of the grasp of its Weavers – the Norns. An unprecedented and unforetold event had occurred. Never, in all of past and present...
A Destroyer feeling true sympathy for a Savior. Would he act upon it? How could he? Would he change all of reality for some paltry mortal?
Again and again he twisted the weave around, unaware that it was now his and no other could change it unless he willed. His thoughts whirled about his head in a dance that only he could truly and utterly comprehend. How can they not see that perfect balance is as horrible as perfect good or perfect evil? All three concepts stifle creativity, free will... Chaos.
An evil smirk played around his lips as an idea formed. It was dark. It was deadly. The potential for destruction was... extravagantly high. A laugh bubbled out of his throat. It was perfect.
In a blink, he was standing on the Hellmouth. A whisper of magic and he passed through the seal. A lifetime or a minute later, he was standing in the presence of Surtr. How do they not know that this place of fire and rock is Múspellsheimr?
He gazed upon the Fire jötunn and let a smile play about his lips. "It is not time for Ragnarok yet, my friend. But!" He held up one long finger to halt the other male's words before he could speak. "But... I have an idea for a game. One that I think will please you, even as it angers the 'Powers That Be.' I have seen the weave of Fate, my friend, and we can use this to our advantage in this trivial entertainment."
Surtr, Fire Jötunn, First Evil, Destroyer of All, smiled. "Tell me more."
Loki leaned back upon nothing and crossed his legs. He pulled a Twinkie out of midair and offered it to Surtr. The jötunn refused, so he shrugged and took a bite. He chewed and swallowed. Why did I never sample these before? Delicious.
"The Council of Watchers think themselves masters of our Game. I propose that we show them who truly rules the darkness..."
Just an FYI. We're in the process of moving... I may or may not update any time soon. It just depends.