Loki, the Undying

Rated: T

Summary: [Set immediately after Infinity War, Spoilers inside.] After his encounter with Thanos, Loki is found adrift in space. After finding that he is too late to attempt to help Thor save the universe, he is determined to find out the fate of his brother. After all, Loki is still the God of Mischeif, and he may have a few, albeit drastic, tricks up his sleeve.


As his limp body floated through space, occasionally bumping into the body of another Asgardian, he clung to life, if only by a very thin, invisible thread. His bloodshot eyes turned into ruby red, and pale skin slowly tinged blue. Even in the absolute worst of situations, a Jotun's body was hardier than most.

Of course, Loki was unaware of the changes his body made to keep him alive.

He remained unconscious, in a state of suspended animation, as a small ship picked through the remains of the Asgardian wreckage, looting corpses of their valuable armor and weapons. This ship had appeared long after another ship had combed through and picked up who they believed to be the only living being left in destruction.

"Is that… a Jotun?"

"Out here? I didn't think they left their realm-"

"He's still alive! The scanners are picking up life-"

"Bring him aboard."

"You're joking! We can't possible handle a living Jotun-"

"Besides, why should we listen to you? You're only along for the ride-"

Of the four person crew, only one was left alive in the moments that followed, and Loki was brought on board.

"You're the most valuable thing in this wreckage, Prince of Asgard."


His first gasps of air were painful. He wheezed as he grasped at his throat, and then winced when his fingers touched tender flesh. How was he alive? He should have been dead! He swore he was dead, and that he was finally going to have to face a moral reckoning in the after life.

And yet, here he was. He was in a small house, lying on a bed in nothing but a pair of loose fitting trousers. There were two windows open in the room, both of which were open with cream drapes billowing as cool air poured into the room. Despite the breeze, Loki found that he was uncomfortably warm.

He also found that he was blue.

"No…" His voice came out as nothing more than a hoarse whisper. He hated seeing his blue skin. Regardless, he slowly moved one leg over the side of the bed and then the other. The room was rather bare, save for a dresser with a vanity and a wash basin. Loki approached the mirror and inspected his neck.

He could see the bruising left behind by Thanos. His blue skin was darker, almost black, with the imprints in the shape of large fingers. Gingerly, Loki touched the marks, hissing as he did so. He could feel that there was some sort of residue left behind on his skin, quite recently as well, since it was wet.

Wiping a bit of the liquid off, Loki inspected it. Whatever it was, it seemed to smell like an herbal remedy. Clearly he had a caretaker while he was unconscious. (Really, how was he not dead!)

Unconscious… Loki swallowed hard, ignoring the pain in his throat. He returned to the bed and dropped down to it, putting his head into his hands. He had truly, honestly not planned to survive this time around. The two other times he had died, he had escape routes-or at least, the will to live. Seeing the last of the Asgardians die, seeing his brother being scorched by the Power Gem, seeing the Hulk, the Hulk for Odin's sake!, be tossed around like a rag doll…

He had always known that Thanos was the real threat, the biggest threat. Thanos was the villain that made Loki realize how tiny and insignificant Loki really was. He had hoped that if he failed, he would die quickly so that he did not have to suffer this reality alone.

And yet, here he was. He was alive, and he was, presumably, alone. He was, possibly, the last survivor. Perhaps it was his doom-his punishment. For how incredibly badly he wanted to rule, he was forced to live as a King of Nothing, with all of his people dead.

Loki took a moment to collect his thoughts. What was his plan of action? Finding Thor, he supposed, was his first priority. Well, no, that wasn't true. He needed to find clothes first. Then Thor. Then they either needed to put as much distance between themselves and Thanos as possible, or do something about the Infinity Stones. He knew which option he preferred, and he knew which one Thor would prefer. He supposed that meant they would be going with the latter option.

Unfortunately, there weren't many clothing options for someone of his stature in the drawers. He pulled a cream colored tunic from one of the drawers and tugged it on-it was tight in the sleeves, but it would due. Shoes. Shoes were next. His magic was too far depleted to create or summon anything for himself-he couldn't even keep up his Aesir disguise, which had done naturally since he was a child.

Loki tried the door and found it unlocked. He opened it as quietly as he could and stood for a moment, listening to the sounds of the house. As far as he could tell, he was alone. He couldn't hear any other sounds of movement.

Weapon. I need a weapon.

Of course, his very hands were weapons of sorts, as just about all creatures succumbed to the natural frostbite of Jotun skin. However he'd rather not rely on such tactics if he could avoid it. He did not like his Jotun nature and did not care to use it. Creeping out of the room, Loki headed to the right-to a set of stairs.

The downstairs was just as bright and airy as the upstairs. The smell of food wafted through the hallways, luring Loki towards the kitchen. There was no one inside, but there was a plate of cured meat sitting near some bread. Despite the fact that he didn't necessarily need to eat to stay alive, his body forced him to step into the kitchen and devour the food without a second thought. There was a pitcher nearby as well, filled with some sort of citrusy drink. Loki drank directly from the pitcher, ignoring the ache in his throat.

Feeling at least a bit satisfied, Loki turned to scouring for a weapon. It took a few tries, but he was able to find a drawer with sharp knives-not ideal, but better than nothing.

Loki continued to scout out the house, but saw no signs of life beyond a feline of sorts that growled at him when he approached. He raised a brow and stepped away, ignoring it after that. When he failed to find anyone else in the sparsely furnished house, he took to the outside.

He wasn't sure what planet he was on. There was a dark orange sun the horizon with a ringed planet in the distance. The little house stood on its own with no other structures in sight. There were mountains to either side of him and lush blue-green all around. Loki couldn't be sure, but it seemed that ahead of the house there were fields, leading him to believe he was on a farm.

The grass actually felt wonderful on his bare feet-it had been a long time since he was somewhere with this much lush wildlife: he had been in space, after all, and before that on Sakaar which was an absolute shit-hole, if he were honest. If he hadn't had such a pressing need to get back to Thor and attempt to stop Thanos, this place seemed like it could be a quite nice place for a bit of recovery time-recovery time he apparently desperately needed, based on the condition of his body.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, Loki neared the back of the building. He poked his head around and finally found who he assumed as the owner of the house.

There was a young woman kneeling on the ground, covered in dirt. She had a hat on, likely to protect her from the sun and inadvertently shielding her face from him, and dirty gloves that went to just about her elbows. From his distance, Loki could just barely hear her humming. She appeared to be gardening.

Loki licked his lips and contemplated what to do. Should he use his silver-tongue and try to convince her to help him get off this planet? Or should he use the knife in his hand to give her no choice?

Option two seemed to be the best course of action; in his Jotun form, after all, he was hardly a charismatic being. She was more likely to go off screaming if he were to approach her.

Loki moved as silently as he could so that he could his his presence until the very last moment. Just as he came within a few steps of the woman, his shadow fell over her, causing her to quickly stand up in panic.

As she stood, Loki grabbed her by the back of her shirt and threw her to the ground. She rolled over and tried to crawl away, but he lunged forward, pinning her on her stomach. "Who are you, and where am I?" He spat out, holding the blade to her neck. He was careful not to touch her directly, as he knew that even if not intentional, he could still blacken her skin. She struggled for a brief moment, but felt the point of the knife on her neck and squealed.

"Cassiopeia! My name is Cassiopeia, and you're on Raynarn! Please don't hurt me!"

"How did I get here?" Loki bunched up the fabric of her shirt and lifted her just about an inch before roughly pushing her back into the ground. He wanted to keep her jarred and off-guard until he had all of the information he needed.

She coughed on grass and dirt. "A friend found you adrift in space! She brought you here to recover! I'm an herbalist and have basic medical training!"

Loki took a moment to think about her words. As far as he could tell, that seemed a likely story. "And the others? What of the others I was with?"

"I don't know-" Loki shook her roughly again at her words, "-I swear I don't know! I was told you were the only survivor!"

Of course, it's what he expected. If he had truly been set adrift in space, it's possible that he could have been the only one to last very long due to his Jotun nature. But Thor-Thor could have survived too. He just knew it. Maybe he had managed to make it out a different way. Maybe Thanos took him.

"And you, what, just decided to take in a strange man? You're alone out here, defenseless. How stupid can you be?"

"Pretty stupid, I guess," she replied bitterly, trying to turn her head a bit further to the side. With her hat now a few feet away, her hair, dark and braided, was in her face. "There's just been so much death that I couldn't turn you away! Half the people on our planet just disappeared! I had to do something!"

Loki loosened his grip on the woman and moved the knife away a bit. "Half of your people disappeared?"

"Yes! And not just here! Other posts I do trading with off-planet said the same thing! Half the people just… just gone! Dissolved into nothing! No one knows what happened!"

Closing his eyes, Loki released the woman and then lifted his knee off of her back. He put his head back and sighed. He was too late-there were all too late. Thanos had already done it. He had already succeeded in his plan, and there was nothing that could be done about it. Half of the people in the entire universe…. Just gone.

And here he was, stuck on some farming planet, not knowing if anyone else he knew survived. He was alone. He was a survivor, but he was alone. He supposed he was doomed to forever be Loki, the Undying.


Author's Notes: After seeing the movie twice, I was determined to do something to quell my anger. I was so incredibly upset that Loki died so dang quickly! So, this is my versio of the events that happen immediately after Infinity Wars. A few things to note about this story:

*Romance will be very minimal if it is non-canon. Don't be thrown off by the immediate introduction of a female original character. This isn't a Loki-romance story. The other characters who are alive as of the end of Infinity Wars will be appearing and playing a big part. Though this story centers around Loki, it is an Avengers fanfiction.

*I'm like a CLAMP writer. I love to reuse characters. You may find it annoying but if you've read other works of mine, you may find some overlap.

So, thanks for reading! We'll see if my frustration is enough of a motivator to keep me updating!

Ever your servant,