Chapter 10
The Asgard Universe - The Twins of Fate Saga - Summary/Content Note
Morning comes too soon.
Gwen wakes to empty space where Loki should be. Cold sheets, a rumpled indentation in the furs beside her, the only proof he was here at all. The scent of him lingers on the pillows, but he's gone.
No note.
No goodbye.
...Of course there wasn’t.
Gwen sits up, wrapping the sheets around herself as she looks around the empty chamber. The faint sounds of Asgardian morning filter through the windows: birdsong, distant voices, the clatter of armor as guards change shifts.
Her chest tightens.
She knew this was likely. A single night with Loki wasn't some grand romance. It was fun. A fling before she returned to Earth with her team.
So why does it feel like a fist clenched around her ribs?
A breath in. A breath out. Practicality wins out over emotion as it always does for Gwen Barkridge, botanist and Avenger who doesn't get attached after one night with a god known for his silver tongue and vanishing acts.
"Right." She exhales sharply through her nose and swings her legs off the bed to find her scattered clothes across Loki’s floor, the same way all their things had ended up tangled together last night before being abandoned in favor of more urgent pursuits.
Loki pressing open-mouthed kisses down between freckled shoulder blades, his hands gripping sharp hipbones hard enough to bruise later when he turned Gwen onto her back again and whispered filthy promises against flushed skin until neither could think straight...
Gwen shakes off the memory like water from wet hair, like shaking off an old dream upon waking. She dresses methodically: leathers laced snugly back into place, boots tugged on firmly, no sign left behind that she was ever here at all, just how Loki probably prefers it. Only when she is fully clothed does she finally notice something gleaming on his bedside table, where no trinket rested before now:
A single golden apple.
She picks up the apple and inspects it. It’s heavier than it looks and warm against her palm. It seems to shimmer in the morning light. Of course he’d leave something beautiful and infuriating instead of a note. She sets it back down with a soft huff.
“A parting gift?” she mutters, setting it back with a shake of her head. “Figures. No note, just a souvenir.”
She doesn’t realize that on Asgard, such an apple is never a casual token.
She knows that no matter how special her connection was with Loki that it was only one night. She doesn't regret it one bit. She just wishes she could say goodbye.
Gwen doesn't have the capability or the access to travel between realms alone. Asgard isn't a place for Midgardians or mortals. Loki can come to Earth if he wants to see her again, but he definitely wouldn't be welcome after his invasion a couple of years ago.
Gwen puts on a smile as she greets her friends. They all look just as tired as she does since they spent their night drinking at the party.
Thor’s booming voice greets her first.
"Little flower! I was just about to send warriors to wake you. I thought perhaps my brother had stolen you away for one last adventure!" His grin is teasing, but his eyes flicker briefly over her expression before he tactfully shifts the topic. "The others are still groaning about the mead's strength. Clint nearly walked into a pillar. You, however, look as if you barely drank at all!" A blatant lie; Gwen knows her tiredness is obvious. But Thor has always been kind like that.
As Heimdall activates the Bifrost’s swirling light, Gwen takes one last glance back at Asgard’s golden spires. Somewhere in those towers is a god who didn't say goodbye... and an apple left behind on a nightstand like a punchline to a joke she doesn't understand. But then again, Loki has never been good with words when they matter most.
Thor has always been a good friend, and she appreciates him. She almost wishes she had chosen him last night, but she's glad she didn't risk ruining their friendship. No, she chose Loki knowing all the risks. They were worth it, though. The ache she feels will fade with time. She'd rather have him for one night and lose him than never have him at all.
When the team arrives in New York, Gwen goes straight to her apartment in the tower. She wants coffee, a long shower, and a day to wallow in the emptiness she suddenly feels without Loki. That one night made a deep impression. She'll be better tomorrow.
The day drags on and on. There are meetings to attend with Fury and other Avengers. Training sessions … lunch with the team … and by evening Gwen is still no closer to figuring out why the hell she can't stop thinking of a certain Asgardian god. It was supposed to be one night; she reminds herself. A one-and-done fling before getting back to her real life back on Earth.
No more pining for Loki, no matter how damn much she wants to. She refuses to let that happen.
A few weeks of the same routine follow, but she still can't shake the bittersweet feelings that come from time to time. She had a wonderful night, probably the best night of her life, but that's all she gets. A night spent in Asgard is rare, and a night spent in the bed of a god even more so.
***
One day after lunch, she got sick. She brushes it off. Maybe she just ate too much pizza. She doesn't think much of it until the next day when she gets sick again.
"No ..."
She stares at her reflection in the mirror, hands gripping the edges of the sink so hard her knuckles turn white. The last three weeks replay in her mind, the fatigue, the nausea she blamed on stress or bad takeout. She'd dismissed it all … until this morning when her powers reacted oddly to a simple potted fern in SHIELD's lab.
Plants have never withered at Gwen's touch before.
A hysterical laugh bubbles up as she remembers Loki’s parting "gift,” the golden apple left silently on his nightstand.
Not a dismissal. A gift — one she hadn’t understood.
“You tried to give me forever,” she whispers. “And I left it sitting there like a fool.”
Her stomach twists. The irony almost hurts. He’d offered her immortality, and instead she’s carrying his mortal child.
She should have brushed up on her mythology before visiting Asgard. She should have known it wasn't some dumb joke or blow off but why wasn't he there? Why did he leave?
No, stop thinking about whys and what-ifs, she tells herself. Don't panic. Take a test. Tell the team and sit out of missions. She has no way of contacting Loki on her own, and Thor isn't here to pass any messages along. Does she even want to tell him?
She won't say anything. She will not make him feel obligated to her and this baby when they only had one night. Besides, aren’t there plenty of mythologies where this stuff happens all the time? It doesn’t mean he’ll want to be around.
She sits on the bathroom floor, back against the cold tiles, staring at the test in her trembling hands. The second line is unmistakable. The hum of the tower continues around her like nothing has changed. For everyone else, it hasn’t. For her, everything has.
A laugh tears from her throat, too loud, too bitter. “Well, of course.”
Loki always leaves a little chaos behind.
A child. His child.
Would he even care? Would he vanish again like last time?
She presses a hand to her stomach. “Guess it’s just you and me now.”
Then, softer: “We’ll be fine.”
It’s the kind of thing she says when she doesn’t believe it yet.