Avengers 1. Chapter 1

He felt the cold blade. Felt it slice its way through his chest. He slouched forward then fell back, blood flowing like a crimson stream from his body. He placed his hand gently on top of the wound and brought it near his face, and stared at it uncomprehendably. It was his? This wasn't in the plan. How did this happen? "_No, no, no!" _He could vaguely hear Thor muttering. He felt his head being lifted from the cold ground and he realized Thor was clutching his neck with his slightly warmer hand. But everything else felt cold. So cold. There was a strange ringing in his ears. It grew louder. Stronger. But he could still hear Thor yelling at him, "_You fool! You didn't listen!"_ He was a fool. He didn't listen. His brother had pleaded with him. His mother had been willing to accept him. Willing to help him. She had never let him down. And because of his stupid pride he never got to tell her he loved her one last time. Instead of telling her that she would always be his mother, he disowned her, and then sent her away. Knowing it wasn't true but not being able to take it back. Because of his stupid selfishness. He felt his breath hitch in his throat. He gazed up at Thor, "_I know. I'm a fool. I'm a fool."_

The ringing stayed in his ears. His hands felt so frigid they were numb as they clutched and released dirt. He felt like Mjolnir was on his chest it was so hard to breathe. He could barely feel his brother grasp his face, then move away, still clutching his neck. "_Stay with me." _Loki could hear him say. After all that had happened. After all the chaos and death. He still was pleading for his brother to come back. Loki had convinced himself that that Loki had died long ago. But he looked at his brother and he knew he wanted to come back. Realized how hard Thor had been fighting. Fighting for him. But it could never be that way again. "_I'm sorry" _Loki gasped. "_I'm sorry. I'm sorry." _He fought with every breath to say it again and again. But it no matter how many times he said it, it would never make things okay.

"_It's alright." _He heard Thor's voice break. He couldn't feel Thor's hands on his neck any longer. The ringing began to consume everything. Loki looked up at his brother. All he was. All that he would become. He was everything that Loki had once ever wanted to be. Everything a true Aesir should be. He looked in his eyes, filled with tears. He saw his brother again. Before New York. Before he knew of the lies. Yes. It was going to be alright. Everything would be alright. "_I know", _Loki breathed.

"_I'll tell father what you did here today." _He could hear his brother's voice catch in his realized he didn't care anymore. He craved neither revenge nor acceptance. He had tried to prove himself for so long. But his father had done nothing but cast it back at his face. He had tried getting revenge but everything he had done had come right back around and knocked him down once more. The words that the Allfather had spoken only a short time earlier rang in his ears "**_Your only birthright was to die!"_** How ironic. His brother was here. That was all that mattered. He felt strange serenity flow through him. He looked into those crystal blue eyes once more and spoke the truth. _"I didn't do it for him."_

His chest squeezed tighter and tighter. He couldn't feel anything. All was cold. The ringing was all he could hear. Thor's grip loosened and he sank back to the ground. He closed his eyes, and embraced the darkness.

* * *

He saw it all.

He was a child once more, and sitting with his brother on the cold stone floor in the room that overlooked Asgard, listening intently as Odin told them stories of the terrible and barbaric frost giants and the bloody battles fought against them. How even the dark magic and spells the Jotuns had used were no match for the mighty Aesir. He recalled Thor's hate for the frost giants. Saying one day he would kill them all. His father's disapproval when he discovered Loki had been secretly studying and learning from the ancient spell books. He remembered the day Odin found out. Loki had learned a new trick. He could make a spiral of ice flow gracefully upwards, twisting like a vine, and then forming into a transparent rose from his hands, not knowing the ability only came through his frost giant heritage. His father had turned his back, his face red. Growled at him to never to do that again, and walked away. Loki threw the rose to the floor, shattering it into a million crystal pieces.

He remembered his mother seeing the tears cloud his eyes as he stumbled, humiliated, from the room. She had ran to him and kneeled in front of him so their eyes were level. She had told him it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen and asked him to make a rose for her. He remembered her reading from the spell books, teaching him new things. Her gift of the emerald ring that he had treasured ever since. Burying the box of treasures from his childhood in the garden with her. Her teaching him how to fight with cunning and speed, not with the brute force that Loki never had but was the mark of a true warrior in Asgard. But he had grown more distant as he grew older. Trying to prove himself to his father by becoming stronger and forsaking most of his magic when he could.

He was young again in Jotunheim. The frost giant clutching his arm, and it turning deep blue. The shock happened once more. At first, he rejected the terrible idea that had formed in his mind, but his fear grew as the time passed and it had made him feel sick. He recalled Thor being yelled at by the Allfather after returning to Asgard. Loki had tried to explain. Tried to explain that it was his fault. A joke that had gone too far. His guilt weighed on him. He wanted attention but he never wanted it to go this far. His father and silenced him. And Loki had stood by helplessly as Thor was banished from Asgard.

The weapons vault. His father telling him he was one of the things he had raised him hating. He raised him, instilling a deep fear and detest of Jotuns. And now he was telling him he was one of them. That _he was the monster parents told their children about at night._ And at that moment, when all he wanted to hear was reassurance that his life had not been a complete lie. That he was more than a pawn in Odin's game. That he was loved. In that moment all Odin said was that he wanted to protect him from the truth. Protect him from who he was. Because he was the bastard son of Laufey. He would never be anything more than that to anyone. And that was when he felt it happen. Felt the ice cover his heart. They had never loved him. He was a chess piece to be sent over to Jotunheim to rule when they thought him ready. He had never had a family.

And then he was hanging off the bifrost. Staring into his father's eyes. Praying it wasn't true. Praying there would be some revelation. Praying everything would be okay and that they did love him. He had tried so hard to prove himself. Wouldn't killing the Jotuns prove he wasn't one of them? His voice sounded so childlike as he hung there. Pleading with his father, _"I could have done it Father! For you! For all of us!" _

_"No, Loki."_

And he let go. Let go of the only hope he had left. Fell to the blackness knowing he would die but not caring. But he didn't die. He wandered through strange worlds, his hate festering in his mind. The good memories twisting into nightmares. He obsessed over his hate and it followed him like a shadow. But then something had pulled him from the darkness. Given him power. Given him a degree of worth. And it had felt amazing.

Then he was humiliated. Bested by mortals. Taken to Asgard in a muzzle. Sentenced to waste away in a prison cell. He escaped and fought by his brothers side with a vehement thirst for revenge for the only person he felt had ever truly loved him for exactly who he was. And he was taken by the darkness once more.

* * *

He could hear waves lap peacefully back and forth against a shore. He felt the water rise and fall against his fingers. He was lying on his stomach against sand, his hands stretched to his sides. Nothing hurt anymore. His wet, black hair was plastered to his face and his soaked armor weighed on him. Light shone dimly through his closed eyes. He felt confused. _Where am I?_ Wasn't he dead? Was this what death felt like? He slowly opened his heavy eyelids, and raised his head to look around. As soon as he did his head began swimming and he felt dazed. He blinked rapidly, trying to adjust his eyes to the sudden white light. The water flowing in a gentle tide around his body was crystal clear. So clear he could plainly see his own disoriented reflection staring back at him. As the tide receded he saw what he had thought to be sand beneath the water. It looked like tiny diamonds, all smooth, all glancing his reflection back at him at strange angles. He raised his head slightly and everywhere he looked his eyes stared back at him. The floor of diamonds sloped up from where he lay at the shore and spread as far as he could see. Diamond trees and vines emerged from the mirror-like sand, majestically twisting their way toward the sky. They seemed to crowd closer together the farther the reflecting land stretched.

There was no sun. No moon. The light didn't seem to have a source; it just wrapped everything in a soft, white light. He lifted his eyes to the sky. It stretched over the land like a blanket. And, similar to everything around him, he could see himself reflected back in it. The river behind him curved and bent sharply, with many outlets and stretched forever seemingly.

_This must be the land of the dead. _He dragged his hands forward, digging them into the diamond sand, trying to lift himself to his feet. He felt light-headed as he attempted to stand. He steadied himself and after a few tries finally stumbled to his feet. The memory of how he came to be here flooded into his mind and he tore numbly at his drenched armor until his chest was bare. There was no wound, or even any of his old and new scars, only his pale skin. He tried to gather a spark of magic to dry his saturated armor but none came. It had felt heavy, so he left it piled in a heap near the water's edge and waited for his green undershirt to dry somewhat then pulled it back on. He drew his dagger from its sheath at his waist and stared at it for a long moment. Then cast it into the water.

He staggered along the water's edge, the current flowing against the direction he was walking, curious as to where it began, tripping once, and then pulling himself upright. He came to a place where it seemed to split into three different directions with small reflecting bridges crossing every branch. He looked down into the shimmering surface of the stream he was nearest to. As the water flowed from the original source it darkened gradually until, at Loki's feet it flowed as black as a starless night. It stretched past him into the reflecting woods. The original source flowed pristine and the opposite branch flowed slightly darker but not near as black as the one to the right. He crossed over the dark, reflecting water to follow the original stream. As he walked he grew tired of his own hated face staring back at him. He closed his eyes as much as he could to keep from seeing it. After a few minutes of walking the river bent sharply to the right. And there sitting beside the crystal water, reading a book, and draped in pure white dress, was his mother.

_Mother? _ He stood as still as a statue, sure she would vanish as soon as he moved or made a noise. She looked so happy as she read her book, a faint smile on her face. He would stand here forever as long as he could keep seeing her this way. The worry gone from her face. After a few seconds, she lay her book down, and stared at him. "_Loki?"_

_"Mother?" _She was real. He ran to her and fell, skidding to his knees beside her and wrapped her in an embrace. He felt a tear slide down the side of his face but he didn't care. "_Mother__?" _He whispered. He sounded like a child. She held him back tightly and her tears wet his shirt as she buried her face in it. "Loki. I've missed you so much." She whispered back. "They didn't let me come to your funeral, Mother. They didn't let me say goodbye." He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing the right words would come to him to make up for it. "Loki its okay, I'm here now." She held her son, her broken boy, for as long as she could.

He didn't want to, but he gently pulled back and stared into her blue eyes. "Mother, where are we?" He questioned, quietly. She smiled at him," It's a crossroads between Niflheim, or the world of the dead, Valhalla, and the land of the living. It is like a crossing, where souls are judged, then sent to one of the three. Honestly, I'm not entirely certain, myself. Even I don't fully understand it." So many questions clouded Loki's mind. "Well… Why aren't you in Valhalla then? How long does it take to be judged?" Frigga smiled sadly and looked down at her hands. "I can't go to Valhalla yet, Loki. I've been wandering here for years it seems like. I've seen many souls come and go."

"Mother what... are you saying?"

She raised her head slightly to look into his green eyes again. "Loki, right after I had Thor, during the wars between Jotunheim and Asgard, the army and your father had returned, and there was much celebration throughout the palace. I was taking care of your brother in the nursery, because after he was born he was worrying me terribly because he wouldn't eat. We had to nearly force him, because he was starving."

"You never told me that." Loki stared at his mother, his face slightly confused. Frigga smiled at him and continued, "I hadn't seen your father yet and as I stood there looking in to Thor's cradle, I heard his footsteps down the hall. I turned around and in his arms as he walked he held a baby, wrapped in a blanket. I was surprised of course, but he smiled at me, and handed me the child. I looked into your eyes Loki, and you were so beautiful. So innocent. You weren't crying, you just stared up at me with those eyes, so full of trust." Frigga smiled to herself as a tear rolled down her cheek. "I held you in my arms and right then and there I swore. I made an oath I would _always _protect you. That I would do whatever necessary to keep you and Thor together. Because I knew your differences would balance each other." Frigga smiled and lowered her eyes again, speaking in almost a whisper. "You know, I put you in Thor's cradle with him, and right after he started eating again."

Loki didn't know what to say, so he lowered his eyes and stared at his hands. "I made an_ iūrāre, _Loki. I made that vow, and I am here because this is how I can keep it. I have spoken with the goddess Hel. Asgard will be attacked, and many will die…. Thor will die, without you, Loki."

"Are you saying… I'm going back?" His voice wavered. "Yes Loki. Your time isn't up yet. Asgard and the nine realms need _you._"

"No they don't." Loki breathed, the bitterness creeping up in in his voice. Frigga smiled, "Oh Loki. You have no idea."

"So after all that's happened. All I've done. All those I hurt and those I killed, they're supposed to magically forgive me, and I'm supposed to become the hero all of the sudden?" Loki's voice raised slightly. "No it's going to take more than that. It's going to take a lot, Loki. You must learn to forgive and ask for forgiveness. To find your happiness and forget your hate."

"Forgive? Forgive?!" Loki was almost shouting. "I was _humiliated_. Shamed. All Odin ever wanted was for me to rule Jotunheim when he thought I was obedient enough. You said yourself he always had a purpose for everything. All that he has _ever_ done has _always_ been some play in his larger game. And that's all I ever was to him." Loki spat out the words, his face red. Frigga placed a hand of his cheek and stared into his eyes. "Loki, don't use my words against me like that. Your father loves you. I don't know what to say to make you understand that. He's made so many wrong choices. But he will _always_ love you."

"He's not my father." Loki snapped, pushing her hand away. Frigga looked hurt and her hand dropped to her lap. "Loki please. Please don't do this to me again. Don't pull yourself away from me like that." He felt guilt stab his heart, and his gaze dropped. "I'm sorry Mother. But I don't know if I can forgive some things." He looked away.

Frigga reached to take his hand, but he changed the conversation quickly. "Who will attack Asgard?" Frigga looked at him, the pain written on her face, but she replied silently. "Thanos."

Terror pierced his heart like another sword. But he tried to keep his face from showing it. Thanos was coming. He had failed him, and now Thanos was coming for him. And everyone he had loved. It was mostly his fault Thanos was free. Now he would pay. He nodded, trying to push the fear away. "How am I to… help?" Frigga stared far off as if remembering something and the sides of her mouth turned up. "Loki do you remember the garden where I used to read to you? Where we buried that box together when you were a child?" Loki smiled faintly, recalling, "Yes. Yes I do."

"When I thought I had lost you after you fell from the Bifrost." She paused and took a breath. " I dug the box up and put something in it. I planted a young tree beside where the box is, and flowers around it. When you return to Asgard, uncover it from the base of the tree, and take what I placed in it. It is… my gift to you. Use it to defeat Thanos and to escape from Asgard safely."

"What is it?" He questioned, his expression puzzled. "You will have to just wait and find out." She looked sideways at him, almost mischievously. Then her face grew sober again. "But just be careful with it, Loki. Always be careful. He was about to ask more questions, but she cut him off. "There is something more you will need. Before Thanos was banished, he stole the only spell known that could kill a titan, that could kill him, and hid it somewhere in the nine realms. You will have to find it to defeat him. The only clue I have to its whereabouts is a riddle I found in the forbidden libraries that a traitor in his army had made after it had been hidden. Recover it from that room and use it to find the spell."

"Yes mother, I will try my best. But you're coming with me aren't you? You can just show me when we get there." He whispered. She took his hand again and pulled him to his feet. "Come on." She grinned at him and started walking, still holding his hand. "Where are we going?" He asked. "We're going to catch our boat home, silly." She laughed lightly and it sounded so happy and genuine, Loki couldn't help but smile. They walked along the river, and came to one of the strange divisions in it Loki had seen earlier. "Why does the river break off like that in different directions?"

She paused and looked down at the water. "Its life, Loki. There are so many different directions you can take. So many decisions. Some good, some not as good as you could have made, and some bad. And the careless and ruinous decisions become easier to continue to follow once you choose them. But life goes on. Flowing by. And you must face yourself every step of the way." They stood there together looking in the water for a minute in quiet stillness. Frigga turned and started walking again. Leaving him there staring down at his reflection in the pitch black water. He followed her after a few seconds and they walked in silence.

They had walked for hours it seemed, the crystal woods had grown denser as they followed the river upstream. Now they were sparser and as Loki looked ahead he could see a clearing. They stepped into it and they had come to the source of the river. It was an ocean, covered by a thick fog the farther it got from the diamond shore in front of it. Frigga led him to the right, to an ornate dock by the water. Two white hooded figures stood at the end of the dock, with two golden boats tied to it beside them. Loki stared curiously at Frigga. "Mother why are there two boats? We only need one to get back don't we?"

Her eyes fell to the ground, and he could see the tears pooling in them. They had been there and he hadn't ever seen them. The realization hit him like a wall. _She isn't coming. _"Mother?" His voice sounded fearful. Like a child's again. And he hated it, but he couldn't help it. He felt like a fool, not realizing the truth until now. "Loki, I can't go back. My time has run out. Even if I did come back, I would be nothing but a ghost. I have fulfilled my oath. And I can rest now." She tried to sound reassured but her voice hitched. His breath caught and his vision blurred from tears, "Mother, no! I can't do this without you! Please… Just come with me_ please. _I can't…"

She wrapped him in her arms and he held her back tight. "Loki you make me so proud. I love you so much. Don't ever forget that. It's going to be alright." His face was wet with tears and he pressed it to her shoulder. This was the last time he could tell her anything. But he didn't know what to say. "Mother, forgive me_. _Forgive me please. I love you so much. Please don't give up on me."

_"_Loki, I will never give up on you and I will always forgive you." He felt her smile. "I love you more than you could ever know, my boy." She pulled away and looked into his emerald eyes once more. His face was red and streaked with tears and his gaze fell. "Tell your brother and father I love them." She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. He held her hands tightly in his. Not wanting to ever let go. But she pulled away one hand and after tugging slightly, together they walked to the dock, Frigga raised her own tear stained face to try her best to be brave for him. At the end of the dock, they shared one more last embrace, and Frigga turned and stepped into the boat. Loki paused; just standing there tears still flowing down his face. He turned away from her and stepped into the boat. The hooded figures stepped in with them. And they started on their way. Loki to the left, Frigga to the right.

The fog grew as they got farther and Loki took one last glance at his mother from where he was standing at the rail. "Goodbye Mother." He whispered, not even sure if she could hear him. And she whispered back, "Goodbye, my son." Her standing form faded into the fog. She was gone. He sank to the floor of the small vessel. The fog grew darker and harder to see in as the time passed, to where, Loki could barely see his hand if he brought it in front of his face.

They had sailed through the still water forever it had felt like. Loki's eyes grew heavy and sleep pulled at him. He couldn't see anything around him, but he felt at peace. The stillness and quiet wrapped around him and he slumped to the floor. _Everything would be alright._

* * *

Notes:

Sorry if the first part was a bit drawn out. I did the first scene of Loki's death best I could remember when I saw it at the premier. I looked up some gifs to keep it as accurate as I could. That scene tore me up so much lol. I cried in the theater when I saw it and again while writing it. ALL THESE FEELS.

Anyways, tell me what you thought about when Loki was in the crossing. My imagination kind of ran wild when I was writing that lol. I'm not doing an out of character Loki or anything if anyone was worried about how his demeanor has changed. It's not, I just felt this would probably be the best way for him to react to seeing his mother again, especially after seeing his reaction in the movie when he learns of her death. This probably should have been my first chapter but oh well. If there's anything you feel hasn't been addressed or you have questions about anything let me know so I can make sure to include it in later chapters.

Oh, and thank you all SO much for the sweet reviews. I'm so glad you think my words to be of some worth. And thank you to the followers of my story! I'm so excited about all of the views and favorites they really mean a lot. :)


	2. Chapter 2

The dead man's heart beat.

Once. Then again, the rhythmic drumming speeding its pace.

Life and energy flowing through the body that was so ice cold and lifeless seconds ago.

His eyes flew open glowing bright emerald. Heat burned through his heart and whipped in fiery rage through him. He bolted upright, his hand clutching his chest as his heart threw itself against his ribcage over and over again as if trying to break free. His body shook violently and deep breaths were interrupted by wheezing and wracking coughs. After minutes of tremors, they began to subside. Blood was dripping from his lower lip onto his already crimson stained armor and his stringy black hair was matted with soil and blood, and clung to his face. He stared down at the sticky half-dried blood that saturated his chest armor.

_He had been given a second chance._

He felt his begin magic radiating from him in waves. His life force. It felt good to be whole again. He stripped the blood soaked armor from his upper half once more, noting his scars were still there. And a new scar had found its way over his heart. But he had never felt more alive.

His mind was crystal clear, his heartbeat gradually evened out, and the shaking subsided. He pulled himself to his feet, the energy tingling through his veins. He glanced around quickly. He was still in Svartalfheim. The sun had barely moved since he had been fighting alongside Thor, though it had felt like weeks. He had lain there for at the most only three hours. But why hadn't Thor taken his body home?

His heart sank with hurt. He had just left him there? Not caring if one of the numerous feral beasts of Svartalfheim had dragged him off as their next meal? He tried to silence these thoughts. _Thor has more important things to do. He was trying to save the nine realms for gods' sakes. Why would he care anyway? I'm not his brother. _

This dulled the aching feeling somewhat and his mind crossed to other things. How was he to return to Asgard? He knew after the outright rebellion in the palace both he and Thor had caused there would be no hope of going back without being imprisoned once more. When he returned he would also require access to the gardens and the forbidden libraries, the latter of which was only open to members of the royal family or higher members of the counsel. A smile quirked up the edges of his mouth. He knew what to do.

He quickly cast the illusion of a guard over himself. It flowed over him like a robe, the magic eagerly doing its work. If Heimdall was not currently being rebuked or imprisoned for his treachery, Loki would have to do this as quickly and cunningly as possible. He was silently praying Heimdall hadn't seen him wake already.

He crouched low behind a rock like a lion stalking his prey. He was sure his father would send guards to assess what had happened. He would know where the brothers had gone. After an hour, Loki grew weary and restless of waiting. He fidgeted with the sleeves of the guard's clothes absently and was about to give it up and start on a new plan, when he finally saw the telltale streak of bright energy in the sky. It shot down in a glowing, swirling streak, and as fast as it had come, it disappeared. One guard stood where it had touched down. _One guard?! _That's all they could send? Loki scoffed in his head. Well, o_bviously _the Allfather had better things to do than protect his only two children. He almost choked as soon as the thought formed in his head.

_His one child, _he corrected himself instantly. He pushed those thoughts away and started his slightly changed plan into motion. The guard was surveying the land silently, his spear held loosely in his hand. Loki peeked over the edge of the rock and cast a perfect illusion of his own lifeless body in the blind spot of the guards helmet, where he knew he would not see it appear, but would notice it when he turned. He shifted, and sighted it instantly. Loki ducked behind the rock again and began slinking silently through the maze of boulders to get behind the guard, who was now stooping over his illusion. The guard kicked his dead body slightly with the toe of his boot and Loki paused in brief shock for a moment. _That is no way to treat a fallen king you idiotic jackass. _He chided himself for using such a belittling Midgardian term but it seemed appropriate at the time. He felt the need to punish the fool somehow, but he knew more important things must be dealt with at the moment.

The guard had kneeled to collect Loki's dagger from his belt, probably to return to Odin to show that Loki was truly dead. By this time, Loki had circled his way around and was standing directly behind the unsuspecting guard. He stepped forward, laying his hands as gently as he could make himself on either side of the guards head. The spell flowed in a green light from his fingertips and the man slowly slumped unconscious to Loki's feet. Loki dragged him unceremoniously into a small hole etched out of the hillside of the rocky hill and copied the guards face to his own disguise. He strolled outside, to where the helmet of the comatose man had fallen from his head whilst being dragged. He picked it up, a light smile on his face, and slipped it on. It felt good to be alive again.

He turned on his heel, swiftly walking to where he had witnessed the guard appear. He stood in the middle of the large circular engraving that was the signature of the bifrost and raised his head to the sky. If Heimdall could not see him, he could still hear him. And if he had seen him alive, the Allfather would have definitely sent more guards by now. He looked at the clouds and said in a voice not his own, "Good Heimdall, open the bifrost!"

He stood there mere seconds before the scintillating light flashed towards him and enveloped him in its brightness, shooting him in a fiery streak on his way to Asgard.

* * *

He greeted Heimdall appropriately, as a guard would, and before he could relay the news of the state of Thor and Loki, Odin burst in the room impatiently. "Do my sons live?!" His booming voice resounded against the walls. Loki shrunk back involuntarily and was immediately ashamed with himself as he fought to keep his voice even and free of hesitation. "Thor lives."

"And what of Loki?" The slightest edge of uncharacteristic fear creeping up in his loud voice.

"Loki Laufeyson perished at the hand of Kurse. Stabbed through his heart." He unsheathed his dagger, still slightly stained with dried blood, and waited for Odin to take it, never looking him in the eye.

He was prepared for Odin to be uncaring and strong. For him to perhaps stand in silence for a few moments, disappointed all over again that things had not gone according to his master plan. But this, he was not prepared for. Odin raised his quaking hands and shakily took the dagger from Loki's grasp. He heard a tear hit the stone floor beside his feet and he raised his head in silent shock. He had never seen his father cry. Never before had this happened and he didn't know how to handle it. His mind buzzed frantically searching for some reason for this, some cunning trick the Allfather could be fronting but he found cause for none. He realized how aged his once-father had come to look. How weary.

"Do not call my son that." Odin whispered. "He is my son. Always. Do you understand?"

Loki was trying with every ounce of his strength to not give away the raging turmoil his mind was in. To keep his hands from shaking and to keep his voice clear and unbroken. He cleared his throat twice.

"Yes sir."

They stood in silence, Odin's tears hitting the cold floor as he stared at the dagger in his palms. Loki tried desperately to clear his mind and get on with the plan. He cleared his throat again and slightly shook his head to toss the confusing feelings from his mind.

"I take my leave, king." His voice broke on the last syllable. Odin nodded, eyes downcast and Loki practically lunged out of the building. Once outside he tried to still himself and walk without stumbling or going too fast but his quick breaths betrayed his inner war. This was not something he had ever seen in his father. He was utterly confused, his mind zipping at a hundred miles an hour. He strode with purpose trying to pry his mind from those thoughts.

As he walked, Loki could see the true extent of the damage done to the once marvelous city. The mighty stone statues that only days before had lined the road to the palace were in ruins, chunks of the stone scattered haphazardly about. The marble fountains and temples that had been built ages ago in memory of victorious battles or of fallen kings and royals, were unrecognizable. Just heaps of debris. Loki could hardly believe this was the Asgard he had known and grown up in. He walked slower, staring around him at the city he had once called home.

He walked through the broken streets to the middle of the city where the palace was. The gates opened upon his arrival, the guards nodding and looking down in respect. That had been one thing he had not been given before. Respect. Even from the guards. When Thor wasn't with him they would rain insults and snark comments down on him like a flood. But it didn't end there. His supposed friends, even Thor included sometimes were just as bad. Saying it was all in fun when he finally had enough and either stumbled off in tears or snapped back at them. His father told him he needed to start dealing with the insults on his own when he had asked him to tell them to stop. No one had ever given him a genuine reason why they hated him, it just was a fact.

When his mother had given him Gungir to rule when his brother was exiled to earth and his father was in the Odinsleep, they had never respected him even though he was the rightful king. They had nearly mocked him in the throne room, making him finally tip over the edge. His confusion and hurt was transformed into rage against those he had thought his friends and on his brother.

He had been lost in his memories and had found his way thoughtlessly to his mother's garden. He had been here so many times the path was etched in his mind. So many times he had come here in frustration or defeat. And so many times this place had brought him peace.

He walked through the flowers and trees, inhaling the scents and feeling a degree of tranquility wash over him once more. This place always reminded him of his mother. And he was suddenly thankful it had not been disturbed during the attack. He trod the familiar stone paths until he reached the archway of dark green trees that hovered over the trail before the familiar bench where the setting of many of his best memories had occurred. At the end of the path, the trees surrounded him in a ring of dark green and brown. The bench lay as he remembered, almost in the middle of the circle. A new, young tree was exactly in the middle of the ring, close to the side of the marble bench. It sprouted from the dark soil, twisting its way to the sky, the only sound being its deep green leaves rustling gently in the slight breeze.

Loki knelt beside it, taking one of the leaves gently between his fingertips, running his thumb softly up and down it. White flowers graced the base of the small tree forming a white and light green ring around it. They were wilted somewhat from the recent lack of care and Loki waved his hand above them, instantly reviving them and making them stand tall once more as he had seen his mother do so many times. He lowered his hand to the bed of flowers and picked one delicately, bringing it to his nose, and then slipping it inside of his armor over his heart.

He remembered the exact location of where he had so excitedly buried his box of treasures as a child with his mother. He crawled to the other side of the tree, the side closest to the bench, and using his magic, he lifted the flowers deep from the soil, as not to destroy their roots. He set them aside gently, and with his hands he pushed away at the dark, rich soil. He felt his fingertips brush the top of the aged wooden box, and he lifted it gingerly from the sod. His mother had helped him enchant the ornately carved box with a spell that would prevent anyone but the two from opening. As he remembered it would "turn them into a dim-witted pigeon" he chuckled to himself, recalling his younger self expecting Thor to show up to the palace any day as a pigeon. Thor had always been nosy of Loki's personal belongings.

He ran the tips of his fingers over the symbols and intricate details carved into it. He took a deep breath before sliding his finger under the latch and lifting the lid. A thousand different memories flashed through his mind as he stared into the contents of the box, a smile tracing his lips. His first knife still shimmering brightly, a small book his mother had read him stories and poems from as a child, his favorite pen that Thor had accidentally broken. He didn't want to throw it away so they had put it in his box so he could fix it later when he learned how to make it whole again from his mother.

A bright blue feather.

The memory came so bright and vivid he felt like he was living it over again. His father had gone to some distant realm to discuss some important something other. As a young boy he never really cared to pay attention to such things. His father being absent meant freedom for the two young boys to roam through Asgard as they pleased. Though Loki usually cared only for the solitude and silence of his room or the library, his brother had finally convinced him to go outside. This particular day they were climbing the massive trees along the wall surrounding the shining city. Loki recalled trying to knock each other out of the trees, Thor usually winning, but with craftiness the younger brother had been able to get him back a few times.

One of these times had just happened and Thor had landed to the ground with a thud when they heard a shrill birdcall. Loki slid nimbly down through the tree branches, searching quietly for the source. Thor sighted the jay first and picking up a stone as big as his hand, threw with unexpected precision at the bright blue birds chest. The bird fell from its perch to the ground in a flash of blue, and Loki screamed and ran and kneeled beside it. "_Thor what have you done?!" _He had screamed. He gently scooped the bird up in his hands, tears rolling from his young face. Thor knelt beside him staring in disbelief at the bird gently cradled in Loki's tiny hands.

He probably had never truly meant to harm the bird. Probably thought the stone would never get near it. But it had. Tears streaming from his face, Loki quickly rose. _"Why don't you ever just __**think**_ _before you do something?" _He stumbled off, leaving his brother kneeling with a pained and apologetic face. But apologies wouldn't help now.

He rushed down the stone path, trying not to jostle the bird too much. His mother sat on the bench as usual, a smile gracing her features and a book on her lap. _"Mamma!" _He shouted getting nearer. She bolted to her feet, probably worried something had happened to Thor on one of his and Loki's adventures. _"What is it Loki? What's wrong?" _She saw Loki's panicked, tear stained face and the unmoving bird in his hand and understood at once. She knelt in front of him, taking the bird gently from his outstretched arms. He sat beside her, his eyes never leaving the bird.

She stroked its blue feathers and murmured in soothing tones to it. _"Mother can you help it? Will it live?"_

_"Yes, Loki. But you are going to be the one to help it." _She smiled at him. "_I don't know how." _He said in a helpless tone. "_You must learn." _She carefully placed the bird in her lap, and slipped her hand into her pocket, pulling out a sparkling gold and emerald ring. She placed it into his hand. _"I was going to give this to you on your birthday. But you need it now if you are to heal the bird." _He looked confused as he glanced at her. _"What is it?" _

_"It is your magic essence Loki. Never let it get damaged or crushed. It is the very embodiment of your power. Use it Loki." _ She placed the bird in his hands once more, sliding hers under them. _"How, Mother?" _

_"Concentrate. Close your eyes and concentrate on where the bird is injured. Find the source of the pain and mend it."_

It had taken a lot of trying and time, but he harnessed the new power he felt. The bird revived, and the sudden fluttering of its wings startled him as it flew away in a flash of bright blue. A feather from the ascending jay had twirled its way down to rest on the ground beside him

Loki pulled himself from the memory and made a mental note to get the ring from his chambers before he left. If it ever got in the wrong hands or Odin decided he had finally had enough of his trickery, the ring could be crushed, and Loki was unsure of what would happen to his magic.

Loki glanced back down into the box, noticing something faintly familiar under the small sky-colored feather. He pushed it aside and stared, his eyes wide and brimming with tears at his mother's last gift.

Her magic essence.

The chain made a slight grating noise against the bottom of the wood box as he lifted it into the sunlight. He turned it over in his hand. It was a long, golden chain necklace with a sparkling black opal hanging from the end. Gold, twisting around it like a frame. The Opal was flowing with color in the light, the red and green mixing with the black.

He closed his eyes and a single tear fell and landed on the opal as he held it to his chest.

_"Thank you Mother."_

* * *

He hurried down the hallway to the balcony where he was told Odin could be found. The king leaned his hands heavily against the golden railing, staring distantly out across the city, his wrinkled face still wet with tears.

Loki halted at the doorway, making his footsteps loud enough to be heard as was common courtesy to let the king know of his presence. Odin quickly wiped at his face with his sleeve and turned to face him. "Yes?"

"King, there is something I must speak to you of." A tinge of fear struck him as the words rolled of his lips and the Allfather only stood there in silence and did not respond. Finally, Odin slowly nodded and lead Loki silently through the corridors to the empty throne room. He turned and Loki glanced up long enough to see the dead, hopeless look of the Allfather's eyes. He swiftly shifted his eyes to the floor.

"What more news do you bring?" Odin said slowly and almost fearfully, as if his heart couldn't bear any more bad news. Loki shifted uncomfortably. It would have been so much easier if he had been disconnected and unfeeling. His hands shook barely, as he fought to stop them. He never raised his eyes to Odin but he could feel his father's gaze piercing him as it always had. As if he could see through him, into the darkest pits of his heart.

He took one deep breath and stepped forward an arm's length from Odin, steeling himself. Trying to gain the absolute courage he needed. He looked into his father's eyes, letting the unmistakable green of his own flash from underneath his illusion. Shock and slight terror struck his father's face and before his could pull away Loki's hands found either side of his face. He would not show weakness in front of this man that had hurt him so much. He leaned in, his eyes sparking defiance and a sardonic grin on his face, as close as he dared. With his own voice, as spiteful as he could muster at the moment, he hissed, "Mother sends her love." Odin sank to the cold floor.

* * *

Notes:

So I was having serious writer's block, and thought this chapter would probably take me at least 2 weeks to get finished because of tons of merriment and being busy with the holidays fast approaching. But I wrote it in one day. There went my expectations again, happily smashing themselves to pieces. I sat down with nothing in my head and 5 hours later I wake from my writing frenzy and it's 3am and I have a test in the morning and _what just happened_. That's almost 4,000 words. In 5 hours. I don't even know how that's humanly possible. For me at least. I'm quite proud though. :) I hope you all are having as much fun reading this as I am writing it.

Thank you all for supporting me! I've had a lot of rough spots, but you guys have really made every minute of my time spent writing this worth it! I'm sort of trying to get through this story to a point where I can do a special chapter for Christmas! Maybe do a little crossover to Supernatural? Would you guys like that? I dunno.

Anywho, My deepest gratitude to all the people who are following this story and those who have reviewed! You guys give me so much inspiration. I LOVE YOU GUYS! Never stop being awesome!

As always, Review and tell me how I'm doing!

UPDATED! Because reviews and advice are amazing and very much wanted! I don't care if it's something you think I don't want to hear, tell me what you would like to see in this story!


	3. Chapter 3

Guys, it has come to my attention that there seems to be another story floating around in the Thor category that appears to be very close to the same plot as mine. It was posted after I posted the latest chapter of mine, but I'm throwing this out there anyway; I purposely did not read any Thor or Loki fanfics while constructing my outline so I could form my own ideas. Yay for original work. Also, sorry about the short chapter. Not much time with finals coming up. Enjoy!

* * *

The wind sang softly through the palace. Through the towers and arches. It kissed his skin and flew through his inky hair. The sky seemed to glow, black as it was with the ever shining city and the stars that dotted its vastness. He sat on the balcony, gazing at the proud beauty of Asgard. Though the attack had left it broken, it was still unparalleled in its magnificence. The night was still. Peaceful. He breathed deeply savoring it. He wasn't allowed this anymore. His long legs hung over the side of the large golden rail. The white flower his mother had planted he held in his open hand.

He stretched his neck and closed his eyes. And a genuine smile traced his lips. He wished it might stay like this. Nothing but the wind and its song. The glimmering of the rainbow bridge. The rest and absolute freedom he had not known in so long. But it was only the tranquil calm before the storm he knew to be approaching. He felt it. The dark power possessed by only one moved closer day by day. Hour by hour. It would not be long.

He sighed and looked back down at the pure white flower he held. _Oh Mother._ He looked back up. The city he grew up in. The city that had caused him so much pain. But beauty he had found in it too. Its graceful arches and statues. He had once admired its strength and independence. But it held no room for difference. Brute strength was prized over cunning. Magic was never to be used in battle. It was almost an unspoken law. But without it Loki knew he would have lost many times over in jousting or battle. He was thought weak because he had never had the frame Thor possessed. He was mocked for fighting with his spells, sometimes even punished. It was considered unfair. Their training techniques of using sheer force had never worked with him, so his mother had taught him to fight with speed and agility. Using the opponent's weakness and even strength against them.

But it didn't matter what he did, it would never be enough it seemed. Everyone flocked to Thor like insects to a light. His golden hair, his blue eyes, even his skin was everything they believed a true Aesir to be. And then there was Sif. _Oh Sif._ She had made fun of his black hair, the deep emerald of his eyes, how even _she _ruled above him when it came to strength, and he had loved her the most. She was strong, and rose above what people thought, as he never could. But she only ever looked to Thor. At Loki's expense she caught Thor's attention time and time again until every feeling he could have ever had for her vanished.

He let out a breath he didn't even know he had been holding. He looked down at the city once more, seeing it in its uncovered state. All its pride and ridicule. He didn't have to save it. He could watch it fall. Have a front seat to watch it burn like he had said. He could see the realms die and be purged, rising anew to the surface. He didn't owe anyone anything. He could ally with Thanos. He would not fail him this time.

A sharp cold wind awakened him from the dark thoughts. He shook his head quickly to rid himself of them. He wasn't immortal. He would face judgment, all his sins laid bare. Guilt weighed on his chest. He told his Mother her hopes and prayers for him were not in vain. That he would try. And try he would. _I'll finish what I started. I will end this. Not for me. Not for Odin. Not for anyone in this damned city. Not for redemption. For you mother. And for Thor, as much as that pains me to say. _He faintly smiled to himself. _This I swear._

He breathed deeply the sweet air once more, savoring it, knowing that the serenity would disappear when he walked through the balcony doors to the halls once more. Here he was, the one who wanted to rule the realms. Even watch some of them fade to non-existence. Here he was trying to save them. He shook his head again as he pulled his slender fingers through his hair. _What am I? _

He swung his legs off the balcony and pushed the doors open gently, and they closed behind him without a sound. He walked swiftly down the halls, remembering to pull the illusion of the Allfather over himself in case he met servants or guards doing their duties at this late hour. His mother's essence was stronger than he had even known, allowing him to shield himself from Heimdall's gaze whenever he wanted. His father's cape flurried behind him and flicked the walls as he rounded corners with purposeful stride.

His hands fisted at his sides as he bounded down the stairs to the lower levels of the immaculate palace. The candles on the walls flickered and danced, throwing eerie shadows and light to the walls and floor through the massive columns. Not a sound was to be heard other than the beating of his own footsteps against the spotless cold floor. He arrived at the huge hallway a level below the ground floor that stretched to one of the kitchens and a few libraries. After a few steps he turned into a dimmer, smaller hall.

At the end of the hallway after silently passing a few doors, he turned into a narrow and completely dark hall. The candles had not been lit because of its remote location, and also because hardly anyone was permitted to enter this way. With a quick flick of his hand, every candle through the corridor snapped to life, flicking towards the ceiling in a bright flame.

The passage was long, but he trudged every step of the way, knowing what lay at the end. The beginning of this journey. The feeling of dread was foreign to this place. When he was younger, he would sometimes sprint down these halls, anticipating the feel of an ancient spell book in his hands. Every spare moment he had from training, and when his father wouldn't notice his absence, he would come here, where all the books of magic were stored. He tried breaking away from the use of it to rid himself of the hate and disapproval that swarmed around him, but it was truly a part of his soul, drawing him closer. It was a piece of him. He was not whole without mischief.

He was only caught once. He had just found a spell to make a flame of green light flow from his hand. At first it was only but a small flame, flickering, then snuffing out. But as he walked the dim corridor to return to the dining hall before he was noticed, it grew. He concentrated on it, losing awareness of his surroundings. It whipped brighter and reached almost to the arched ceiling before he realized he was by then in the main hall. The flame spread in an almost blinding flash of light. It snapped Loki from his tunnel vision and an almost giddy laugh escaped him as he willed the fire upward once more, and then let it die. He started when he saw Njord, a member of the council, who had been walking through the hall, gaping at him, his eyes wide, and his mouth slightly open in shock. Loki didn't know what to do, so he started to speak an apology, but Njord recovered himself and turned on his heel sharply towards the staircase. He glared at Loki from the corner of his eye as if Loki was a serpent, ready to strike at any time. "Be careful what you tinker with _prince._" He hissed through his clenched teeth and walked stiffly up the stairs.

The massive wooden door broke him from his dreaming. It was carved with deep, intricate symbols and runes. In the center of the door rose a great tree with nine branches stretching like arms, holding the door in place to the frame. Under the roots, an eerie green light glowed. It had always puzzled Loki. It flowed from the base, around the roots, twisting like a tiny vine. His fingers drifted over the familiar carvings and he whispered ancient words, making the branches curve and twist inward, and the door fling itself open. His true from flowed over him. No one would come here.

The smell of the old books greeted him as he walked through the doorway. It was comforting. The candles sprung to glowing life at the motion of his pale hand. He had not been here in ages it seemed but he remembered everything. From the graceful sweep of the arch over his head, to the rows of dusty, curved, wooden bookshelves. They too were riddled with runes and strange carvings. He walked between the worn shelves, running his finger-tips along the spines of the aged books. Full of wisdom and new knowledge. Many he had read. Many more he wished to read.

He kept walking until he reached the back of the silent room, where lay a low bookshelf. It was darker than the others, and the books on it were ones of history. Tales of battles fought long ago. Loki had never ventured to this section before. The history bored him. He knew already of Asgard's mighty and unfailing greatness from his father and those around the dining table in the evenings. He smirked, the sarcasm ringing through his head. They told of their victories and triumphs over, and over again. And once more just to make sure everyone knew what a true hero they were. _So humble as well. _Loki rolled his eyes and kneeled down beside the shelf, eyeing the huge books carefully.

The books covered the olden retellings of various adventures through almost all the realms. There were stories of the beautiful Light Elves of Álfheim, history of the realm of Muspelheim, and tales of the dark days, the wars between Asgard and Jotunheim. At the end of the shelf, stood an untitled book, bound in leather, but not as dusty as the others. He tugged it from the shelf and slid his long fingers under the strips of dark leather that encased it. The bonds snapped, and the cover lifted open. It was indeed the history of the Titans. Of Thanos and his ever-growing darkness. He hugged the thick book to his chest and turned to an antiquated table in the shadowy corner. A candle sat by a stack of dusty books, and it flickered to an orange flame at Loki's order. He sat in a plain wooden chair and laid the book on the worn table.

The book had many pages telling of Thanos's obsession with death and darkness. Of his growing rebellion and hate of the other Titans. He, who courted Lady Death herself. He was empty of empathy and horribly misshapen. He was said to be the first to ever create a weapon. He stole the Saðr Galdr, the only spell that could kill a Titan, and hid it before he was banished. A few of his followers realized Thanos's true intentions of killing the gods and purging the realms, him as their one king. They turned from him, one writing the riddle of the location of the spell, knowing what would happen when he learned of their treachery. Thanos found out, of course, and cursed them, binding them, to an unknown place. No one had been able to break the jumble of words that the riddle had become under the curse.

From the very last page, words were strung about, the letters mixed together like they had been carelessly thrown on the page. Loki breathed in, then out. Willing himself to see past the magic. It was familiar to him, he felt it. The power he had once been so close to, only a fraction of it given in the scepter. He squinted and focused. He was the only one who knew this power so closely. The only one who could break it. "_Sjálfráðr" _he whispered slowly. The words immediately pulled themselves to their places, straightening to where they should be. From the page now beamed the riddle, written in ancient Norse. The golden reflection danced along the sharp angles of Loki's face as he gazed down at it. It was different from the rest of the text, flowing in elaborate, flowing handwriting.

_Stand where we stood_

_Broken we fell_

_Four breaks the heart_

_Of the demon from Hel_

_Watch where you stand _

_Wisdom by well_

_Sell her a promise_

_The water can tell_

_Bring him the ice_

_Light used to know_

_Wall like a web_

_Shall guard you with snow_

_Bring from the meadow_

_The trees of the spring_

_Cry out against him_

_March in a ring_

_Release then upon him_

_The flame of the deep_

_Let the fires consume_

_For him they weep_

_His eyes now they see_

_His heart, watch it break_

_Light then to tell,_

_The key now to take_

_Columns, our prison_

_Set our souls free_

_Here we are were buried_

_Traitors were we_

_Protected by nature_

_By it then sealed_

_Nature breaks free_

_By it repealed_

_Hear our cries_

_Beneath land of peace_

_This is our curse_

_Until the dark cease_

He took a sharp breath_. Of course it couldn't be something easy. _He knew too well what the words meant. He would have to possess nature. _Possess nature, _he scoffed. He would have to journey through the realms. The heart of Yggdrasil itself. To the well. To Mimir. His cold hand brushed through his hair shakily.

He carefully unbound the page with the mysterious riddle and slipped it under his tunic. The halls would soon be flurrying with activity and he didn't feel up to acting the part of the Allfather in front of all those he hated. He rubbed his face with his hand, trying to rid the weariness from his eyes. Any sleep he had been able to gain while in his cell was quickly stolen by dark nightmares. In them he was dressed in his armor, walking into the throne room, and there stood Thor, grinning broadly and holding Mjolnir. Every time Thor would toss Mjolnir aside and run to embrace Loki. And every time Loki would reach to his leather belt, draw his dagger and plunge it into Thor's heart. He would wake, covered in sweat and shaking, shielding himself with illusions to hide it. One of these dreams occurred the night before Frigga's death. The only difference between this one and the others being that it was his mother instead of Thor running to meet him.

He stood from the worn chair and tucked the book under his arm, carrying it to the bookshelf once more, securing the bonds and slipping it into its original place. He turned, and walked past the tall bookshelves, standing like ancient guards in rows through the room. He reached the arch of the door and peeked over his shoulder, flicking the light away, and shutting the door with the gesture of his hand. The branches of the tree creaked and groaned as they uncurled and stretched over the door post once more. They looked like snakes, slithering their way back to their places.

The illusion cloaked him as he walked past the flickering lights, extinguishing them as he strode by. There was still much to be done before he could begin searching for what he needed to gain the spell. Much knowledge to be relearned of the paths between realms, and where to find each essence of nature. How to get to the well. And other unfinished business. Something that had been pricking at his mind ever since he had put his father under the spell. Odin had bound him in chains, dragged him to the throne room, and put him in a cell, and had forbidden his mother from coming to him, though she had. Why, now, would he care that his rebellious son had died? It didn't make any sense. Never had his father cried, and Loki couldn't begin to hope those tears could be for him. That maybe, he could be of worth to the man he had once called father other than being a puppet.

He strode purposefully through the halls while gentle beams of light peeked their way through the tinted glass as dawn approached. He spoke to no one as he made his way through to the higher levels of the golden palace where the other libraries were. Much wisdom was needed before he was to leave Asgard. Much time needed to prepare. The journey was only beginning.

* * *

Notes:

Yeah, I know. I'm not good with coming up with riddles. At least I tried.

I realized I had not updated in a week so I threw this together. It's an important chapter, so I hope I built it well enough. Finals are nearing and life is busy. Sorry about the wait and short chapter again :( I hope everyone's Thanksgiving went well! My family had an all-night Lord of the Rings marathon. Yes, my family is amazing.

I am aghast at the views, follows, favorites and reviews. You are all absolutely fantastic! Thank you so much! Honestly, I had planned on deleting and beginning writing this story all over again after writing the second chapter, but I guess I've done something right! I really, really hope I don't disappoint! One more big thank you to everyone who has read the story thus far. I will continue to update as often as I can. Reviews are always deeply appreciated.

UPDATE: I deleted the first chapter because some things have changed in my plot. And it simply could have been written better. :) Have a fantastic day, you beautiful people.


	4. Chapter 4

I'm so sorry about the wait, guys. I needed a break after writing Snow and Roses and I haven't been feeling the greatest. I'm having a hard time writing this because I have a ton of other story ideas and I'm not sure where this one is going. I'm going to make myself finish this one before I start the next one though. It's really hard for me to write Loki, especially his sarcasm because I'm the exact opposite type of person. I may have come up with about three good comebacks in my entire life. By the way, everything that is said between Odin and Loki towards the end is pretty much what happened in the comics I guess. I looked up a bunch of stuff about the actual story and added my own twists. It's not the exact same but its close. Enjoy!

* * *

Soft, gentle rays of golden light pierced through the leaves of the dark trees, fighting their way through the net of branches overhead. Loki breathed in deeply the fresh, sharp scent of the air. This place had always held an almost magical atmosphere in itself. A silent corner that couldn't be disturbed amid turbulent chaos. It had not changed since he was a child. His back rested against the smooth bark of one of the giant trees. After spending all day with the council acting the part of the Allfather and then speaking with Thor, he had decided to escape for a few hours. He had gone back to the library and found a book on the history of Álfheim, the realm of the Light Elves. Not much was known of these elves called_ ljósálfar_, other than their art, and beauty. They were the polar opposite of the Dark Elves. Wise and peaceful, but warriors when called upon. Graceful but strong.

He laid the book beside him on the grass and leaned back against the tree, closing his eyes, and thinking back on what had happened only a few hours ago in the throne room. Thor's refusal to be king. Loki remembered when having power was all Thor ever wanted. All he ever thought of. He had wanted it with him. They both had anticipated Thor becoming king, and the younger brother had anticipated being there by his side as he ruled. Always. But the day had never come. Thor had changed much it seemed. _Everyone has._

The trickster absently pulled at some long grass near one of the roots of the large tree. A slight chill had begun to invade the air. Night was coming. The bite of the cold breeze that had begun to blow brought him back from his thoughts. Now was not the time to be absent-minded. He needed to find the information he needed, and find it quickly.

He had gathered much knowledge the past few days. Apparently three stones were required to make an essence. Three stones to make three essences of fire, ice, and life. Three essences to release the spell. According to legend, essences were used to build worlds in the early ages. Winter and lands of snow from ice, forests and new animals from life, and deserts, volcanoes, and suns from fire. Thanos had used the most unattainable and forgotten things in the universe to lock away probably the most powerful spell in the universe. No book, even in the ancient library had told of how to attain the stones, or even what they were. For that, he would have to visit Mimir.

Mimir, who had taken Odin's eye in exchange for knowledge. Odin had visited her more than once, but he had never spoken of why or what else he had given. She was known for finding your weakest point, the thing you treasure the most, and trading you for it. Only if you were _very_ desperate would you go to her. Perhaps a year ago the thought of visiting her would have made him feel fear, but not now. There wasn't anything that she could take from him that hadn't already been lost.

Finding where this spell was located was another matter as well. It would most likely be in Álfheim, the 'land of peace'. Underground somewhere. But that was an entire realm to search through. Nothing in the archives knew anything of where it would be. If he didn't find the answer here he would seek Mimir for it as well.

Loki pushed back the inky hair that had fallen in front of his eyes as he gazed towards the shining palace. The walls gleamed with the fading last lights of day. It was getting late. It seemed like every hour that went by filled him with a weight. As if sand was running through the hour glass, bearing down on him heavier than before. Something was coming.

Though silence covered the realms in a lapse of welcomed peace, though the skies seemed to be clearing of the darkness they so long had been shrouded in, though birds had begun to sing once more, it was only a frail veil for the tremor that would be felt through each and every one of the realms.

Loki bowed his head as he ran his hand softly over the book and picked it up. Time was running out. He rose to his feet and clutched the book to his side as he walked back to the palace. He couldn't be here very long. Every second that passed was time lost. But before he left, there was something he needed to know.

* * *

He took long, slow strides down to the dungeon, dismissing the guards and walking past the prisoners. He gave his old cell a quick glance as he walked to the end of the narrow hall, past a corner where no one could see. His fingers trailed over the walls as his illusion fell and he stood in front of the last cell. The barrier shimmered and vibrated like a golden wall of disturbed water as he looked in.

The illusion fell from the Allfather and he opened his eyes. "It doesn't feel too good to be locked up and not able to use your power does it?" A husky voice and then a chuckle.

"Loki what have you done."

Loki stood in the corner of the cell, his hands clasped behind his back and a smirk on his face. "It must get tiring thinking I'm dead, and then me just showing up again. Probably very rude of me as well."

"How do you live?" Odin breathed.

"I know, disappointing isn't it? I'm not easy to get rid of. I don't actually know how I am here and not in Hel. Apparently," he turned to face the barrier. "The world is not finished with me yet."

"Who is controlling you this time?" Odin asked quietly. _'Who controls the would-be king?'_ Thor's voice.

"No one controls me!" He spat as he turned to face the Allfather. "No one has or ever _shall._"

"That power that holds me here is not yours."

"Well you do put the pieces together quickly now don't you? You're right it's not mine."

Odin sat and stared solemnly for a moment. "It is your mother's." His voice was but a whisper. "Loki, the essences combined, they are far too powerful for one alone to possess. They will destroy you. Heed my warning-"

Loki leaned forward mockingly. "Or _what? _Why do you care? I thought you wanted me dead. Why _did _you care?"

Odin looked away quickly, his jaw clenching and his eyes averting to the stone floor. "This is never what I wanted. I have failed… both of my sons." He paused, his eyes closing in weariness. "It is true that I had plans for both you and Thor. Plans to attempt to end the tension and endless wars between the realms of Asgard and Jotunheim. I adopted you as my son with the hope that someday you could rule that race as a king. But," He paused again staring at the far wall, "there were other reasons."

It became difficult for Loki to breathe. As if someone had suddenly began to pile boulders atop his chest. "Really." He kept his voice even by keeping it quiet. "I do love these revelations, please continue."

The Allfather spoke in the same voice that he used when he told stories to Thor and Loki as children. He stared absently at a dim corner in the cell. "When I was young my two brothers, Villi and Ve and I fought against a fire demon named Surtur. The demon killed both of my brothers, but before they died, they gave their power, their essences to me. Whenever essences are combined they can become dangerous. The power can slowly possess you and drive you to the thirst of more. They consumed me and I was filled with power lust and greed." Odin's voice quieted as his eyes found the floor. "War rose once more between Jotunheim and Asgard and my father and I went to battle against the frost giants. Much blood was spilt and the battle was nearing its end, when a sorcerer turned my father into snow in front of my eyes. I never tried to stop it. Nor did I attempt to bring my father back. My heart was black and I wanted the throne more than anything. The battle was ours, and when our armies returned to Asgard I became king." Loki shifted to clasp his hand behind his back but didn't utter a word.

"Over the years the guilt of what I had done weighed on me. I began to despise the essences as the root of my treachery. Essences reflect the heart and intentions of the bearer. They become a part of your soul and intensify what lies greatest in your heart. What you desire most. There are but a few in the universe. Some used for tremendous good. Some used for tremendous evil. I gave my brother's essences to Frigga, knowing with her, they would be safe. I tucked mine away and vowed to never use it again.

The spirit of my father haunted me for weeks before the battle between Jotunheim and Asgard that I found you after. He haunted me every night, condemning me for what I had done. The night before I found you he came once more, and told me that I would find a child after the battle, and that if I brought it back to Asgard and adopted it as my son, he would cease to haunt me. I was desperate, so I did."

Loki could taste blood. He had been biting his lip. "Well I'm so glad…" He choked on the last word and quickly turned away and faced the barrier, "That I helped ease your _pain_. So was it worth it, Allfather?" He regained his voice and threw the last sentence like a dagger.

"I know I will never be able to say anything to make up for the things I have done-"

"No there is not. Because I don't care. Whatever you told me that for, whatever plan you had, I don't intend to follow. But," He turned back around, straightening himself, "that still does not answer why you would care. And don't say it's because I'm your 'son' because I'm not."

Odin's face was weary as he stared at the floor like he was looking into a different world. "I visited Mimir again, when you and Thor had grown older, asking for the knowledge of Ragnarok. After the deal was made, she gave me a vision of the downfall of the gods. I could see every one of the nine realms, including Asgard, in ruins. Covered in ash and the bodies of the fallen. And a silhouette standing above it all. A master of dark magic. His face was hidden but he possessed my brother's essences. The vision left me but its darkness followed me back to Asgard and fear grew in my heart. When I returned I discovered that Frigga had been teaching you the arts of magic and had gifted you with Villi's essence…

Over the years, as I watched you excel in sorcery my fears grew. As time passed it became harder and harder for me to tell you of your parentage. I feared when I did, you would have no reason to remain. Nothing to hold you from becoming what I thought you to be. What I believed to be truth. When you fell, I knew that it had finally come. That the wheel would turn again and I would be betrayed as I had betrayed. It was my fear that drove you to this place. If you are a monster it is only because I made you one." The Allfather's head bowed and his eyes closed. Loki stood like a statue, his blood running cold. He didn't know what to feel. Hate, resentment, grief. This wasn't expected. He didn't know what to feel. What to say. So he said nothing.

"After you returned to Asgard and upon hearing of your... death, I realized the full extent of what I had done. Perhaps if I had destroyed those cursed essences, perhaps had I not let my fear blind me and act to only distance myself from you, this may not have happened. Perhaps you would be fighting alongside your brother now as you should be. Perhaps the woman I love would not be dead and my sons would be here with me."

Tense silence held the room as if the world had decided to pause. Loki stood with his back to the room, staring far off at places unknown. When he broke the silence, his voice cracked on the first word.

"All these years, everything you ever said to me was a lie. Is it really strange to you," Loki turned to face the Allfather, "that lying is the best thing I can do?"

Loki stood straight, his face emotionless. Even calm.

"I'm afraid I must go." His lips turned up in a smirk. "I have a kingdom to attend to after all. He turned on his heel to leave.

Odin looked up at Loki and his voice rose. "And what is it you plan to do as king, then?"

Loki's chuckle filled the cell as he peered over his shoulder. "Give the people what they want."

And with that he was gone, his true form standing outside the cell once more. "Good evening Allfather." He bowed mockingly as he cast the spell for the odinsleep and summoned the illusions.

He walked past the other cells, out of the prison.

His smile faded and disappeared as he was alone again in the quiet and the dark. His footsteps were the only sound to be heard as he rounded empty hall after empty hall. The trickster's illusion came undone. He was a good liar. The best. A master of trickery. The god of lies. So good, that it was impossible to tell a lie from the truth. So, which of those was this tear that trailed his face?


End file.
