Loki and the Loon - Immortal Friendship

Although he would never admit it, never say it in so many words, Loki liked the way his Midgardian life had panned out. Thomas was a more adequate flatmate than he had ever expected a human to be – their uncanny likeness aside, and his strange cheerfulness discounted. He handled all matters to do with their landlady, he took care of the shopping and the cleaning and cooking, and although he might make the occasional comment about Loki not helping him, he was, by and large an obedient…companion.

There were, of course, regrettable incidents – such as the time when Tom's mother had popped in, and the poor woman had ended up frozen to the settee (although, to be fair, Loki had been trying to help, when Mrs Hiddleston had mentioned that it was boiling hot, and that she wouldn't say no to an cooler temperature…it just so happened that her idea of a cooler temperature was a little different to Loki's), or the time when Thor visited with Jane and had smashed most of their crockery after thoroughly enjoying dinner – but they were inevitable, and excusable.

An unspoken truce had also settled between Loki and Stitch, neither willing to admit that they actually enjoyed the other's company, although Tom lost count of the number of times that he came home to find the television still on, and Stitch curled up asleep on a snoring Loki's lap.

Loki liked it like this.

But this did not last.


The day that Tom said he was going to moved out to go and live with a long term girlfriend that he had been seeing (very nearly the only girl who had been able to meet Loki without his silent glares and deliberate tricks sending her fleeing) was one when Loki finally realised two things. That nothing changed, and that everything did.

People would always leave him, and things would never stay the way he wanted them – in a golden period when everything was good.

Tom promised that he wouldn't stay a stranger – promised that he would visit them, and ask them to come over to see him in his new flat, promised that nothing would change – but even then Stitch became morose, his ears and feelers drooping as he moped on the sofa in Loki's lap, and Loki utterly refused to speak to Tom. At night he would unpack the things that Tom had managed to pack into boxes that day, and hid things until Tom finally got cross for the first time they had known each other.

Stitch had growled from his place in Loki's arms, and proceeded to shun Tom, even through his uncountable apologies to both of them.

The day that Tom left, Loki shut himself in his bedroom, and refused to come out until Tom had left, even though the man had insistently stayed knocking on his door for a good two hours until his knuckles were red.

Eventually, however, Tom had had to leave. Stitch was curled in the corner of the lounge with his back to Tom, stoically ignoring him. Tom sighed, it touched him that Loki and Stitch were so upset by his moving out, but at the same time, that was just what life was like. Things changed.

"Good bye," he called softly to Stitch's back, not expecting any reply. As he turned to open the door, however, there was a patter of claws, and he looked down to see the small blue alien wrapped tightly around his leg. "I thought you weren't going to say good bye to me, buddy," Tom murmured, kneeling down to give Stitch a last rub on his head.

Stitch looked up, his eyes huge and sad. "Must leave?" He asked forlornly.

Tom nodded, his expression sad. "Must." Stitch clambered up into his arms for a last cuddle, and then it was goodbye.


In his new apartment, as he unpacked the boxes, Tom found an unexpected item there – Loki's houndstooth scarf. It was the god's favourite, and even as he fingered the edge of it, Tom knew that it was no mistake that it was there.


The next day he popped back around to see how Stitch and Loki were doing, wearing the scarf. When he knocked on the door there was no answer, and when he tried the handle it was unlocked. Frowning in concern, Tom let himself in.

The lounge was empty, but as he glanced to his right, he was confronted with the sight of Loki covered in what appeared to be largely flour, and pancake mixture splattered everywhere. Stitch was hanging off the ceiling, licking the splashes off.

"Loki! What are you doing?" He asked, laughing slightly in his shock.

Loki turned to him with an imperious expression. "Well, as you've abandoned me, I am preparing this Midgardian…dish," he waved his hand vaguely towards the ready-made pancake mix. Tom sighed, and laughed, running a hand through his curls.

"I thought burglars had come in again," he said, "you left the door unlocked."

Loki raised a floury eyebrow. "Your thieves are boring – and so are you; fancy calling torture outdated!" He turned back to his lumpy mixture with a flounce that told Tom he was still in Loki's bad graces, even as Stitch dropped on him from above with a delighted gargle.

Tom sighed, but he was smiling. "Here, let me help – you should really think about getting a new flatmate…preferably someone who can cook," he said as he began tidying the bombsite that Loki had turned the kitchen into.

Loki sniffed disapprovingly. "I don't want a new flatmate."

Tom smiled at him. "Thanks for the scarf." Loki glanced sideways at him, calculating, and then nodded once.


To begin with, there were moments when Loki and Stitch became snappish with each other – mainly over those matters that Tom had usually been there to resolve or diffuse, but was no longer. As time passed, however, and Tom continued to visit, things began to settle down a bit more until the two creatures from other worlds cohabited quite amiably with one another. Eventually they reached the point where Stitch accompanied Loki everywhere, draped around his neck or pattering along near his ankles. Either way, they were inseparable, and it warmed Tom's heart to see them such good friends at last.

There had been a number of trials that they had had to overcome, however. Attending Tom's wedding had been an almost disaster (no one wanted to remember the speech Loki had given as best man)…as had the stag night (humans trying to drink Asgardian amounts of alcohol was so very far from a good idea). Meeting Tom's first child was another. Loki had been distinctly gratified to be named godparent, although the term was somewhat bemusing, and seemed a source of intense amusement for Tom's wife. The wrinkly little dumpling had made a peculiar face up at him the first time they had put her in his arms, and when he had asked whether it meant she was going to be sick on him, and that they should probably take her back quickly, Tom had laughed gently, saying that she was smiling. Loki found it rather hard to tell, what with all the wrinkles and the squishiness of her face, but as the infant did not appear to be able to do anything adverse to him, he was mollified.


Loki and Stitch found themselves at first ungracious, and then increasingly eager conscripts for babysitting the Hiddleston brood as time passed. The children invariably returned to their parents looking quite unlike the tidy respectable children they had been when they were dropped off, but there was never a time that they had not thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Stitch had found the infants a trial to begin with, quickly learning that having his feelers and back spines out were a very bad idea near tiny grabby hands, but his capacity to carry two toddlers at once with his second set of arms out, was a very useful one, especially when the chaos started getting out of hand, and the infants needed to be kept away from certain dangerous items in the kitchen which they always seemed fascinated by.

The day that they all came back blue with red eyes, and no amount of washing had been able to get rid of it, however, Tom had drawn the line. That day had been the one when they had gone to the zoo, the younger children on leashes, Loki referring to them as his "tiny army"…needless to say, they had been banned from future visits.


The greatest hurdle Stitch and Loki had to face, however, was time. Alien and god as they were they knew no damage or change from their advancing years, but their dear friend Tom did. At first it was not something that they picked up on, a slight decrease in how active he was, and then a slight increase in the number of injuries he seemed to be getting. He had begun to slow down, no matter how much he tried to fight it, and as they watched the children they had babysat grow into adults and leave home, Tom seemed to shrink until one day he was an old man.

Eventually the vitality of their friend was diminished to his eyes only, and then one day old age took him.


They did not attend the service. Loki felt insulted that so great a man was merely buried, and without any gifts or any of the things that had been important to him in life. Such a man deserved the full honours of a king: a ship burial with the pyre buried beneath his own barrow. But it was not to be. The only thing he managed to do was ensure that Tom wore the old houndstooth scarf.

Afterwards, they went to the pitifully small grave, and Loki, finding fault with the inscription – The greatest man, husband, and father – altered it a little.

The greatest man, husband, father, and friend.

He and Stitch stood together, solemn and ageless.

"My friend…sleep easy."


Aaaah! What has my brain done?! TT_TTSo yes, it's a very sad Loki and the Loon fic, not at all like my other two. But I do like it. Because Loki goes from viewing Tom as a companion, to a friend. His greatest friend. And that makes me cry happy tears into my tub of therapy ice cream.

It was actually inspired by this piece of fanart that I saw on FB (I'm afraid no artist was credited) when I was at uni on Friday.
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And I got so excited by it that I actually went into one of the uni libraries, borrowed a computer and wrote pretty much everything here in about an hour. I've tidied it up and bit and edited it since, but I think I got the essence down already.

I really hope that, despite the fact that it is completely unlike the humourous other two pieces, that you enjoy this.

Please do review and/or favourite :)

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