A/N: This story starts before the events in Thor and will end after the Avengers. I'll put up warnings as more mature chapters are published. Flames are never welcome.

Chapter 1:

"WILHELMINA!"

Her mother's scream followed her as she stormed out of her home and into the heart of Asgard. It was the middle of the day and the streets were bustling with merchants selling their wares. People flooded the streets, but in her haste, she managed to push them aside. She did not hear any of the admonishments from the people she laid rough hands on; she was so angry.

They were idiots, every single one of them. Well, not Dagmar, but her sister could test her nerves at times. No, her damned tutors, her father and especially her mother were the idiots.

How could they ever expect her to be a part of the royal court? She had nothing in common with those pompous, gold worshippers. Could they not see that she was destined for better things? Granted, she was not yet sure what the better things were, but when she found out, surely they would see things her way. Maybe.

Wilhelmina blazed a trail that carried her far from her home and to the palace gardens. Though she hated the members of the royal court she would often see strolling around the flowers, she always found herself there when she needed to escape.

She felt unappreciated, and most definitely underestimated. She had proven herself time and time again to be a scholar. She always managed to startle her tutors with how well she was able to pick up on any subject they taught her. She was an accomplished painter, and had a working knowledge of six different musical instruments. For her parents to now tell her that she was of age to join court was insulting. She would never let all the knowledge she had worked to acquire fade away as she buried herself in the trivial life of upper society.

She was heading towards her usual resting place that lay in the middle of a small cluster of trees where their branches hung low with the heaviness of the fruit they carried. Since she was a girl, she would lay in the shade of the trees with a large book, feasting on the fruit. She threw herself on the grass and pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them tightly.

Run? Where to? Perhaps she could find a place that her parents' reputation could not reach, where she could be her own person without her family name hanging over her.

She shook her head, as if trying to empty it of the troubling thought. She would not run away, Asgard was the only home she knew. The only home she ever wanted to know. How many decades had she spent wandering the streets of the golden city, wishing to rule over them? To have the tables turn on everyone that thought they could control her or her future? Her mind was her greatest weapon and she would use it however she needed to change her fate.

The sound of footsteps stirred her from her musings and she retreated further into the trees. A second later, Lord Val turned a corner with a woman Wilhelmina recognized as a noble. Val was a stout, aged man with a beard that reached down to his round belly. His clothes may have been suitable for his status, but certainly not his weight. She feared that one of the straining buttons of his coat would pop off and maim someone. She cringed at the idea of making this man's acquaintance if her parents had their way.

She gave a quiet groan when the couple seated themselves on a stone bench directly across from her hiding place. Now she was stuck listening to whatever Lord Val was clearly boasting about. Several awkward minutes passed, and just as she felt herself dozing off, more approaching steps tore her from her stupor. They were coming from close behind her. With more agility than she thought she possessed, Wilhelmina climbed the tree she had been hiding behind and steadied herself on one of the low hanging branches, just as the stranger came into view. She held her breath.

From where she sat, she could just make out the profile of the stranger through the leaves. She immediately noticed that he was lean and very pale; the black of his hair made a stark contrast to his skin. Her heart beat faster as she took in his attire. He wore black and green leather, with gold plates around his collar and wrists. It was the clothing of someone very high up the tiers of royalty.

As realization dawned on her, she clapped a hand to her mouth to prevent her whimpers from being heard. Prince Loki stood beneath her, taking her place in spying on the nobles.

She had overheard countless stories about the prince and had observed the portraits of him and the rest of the royal family in the halls of the library. Apparently, he had more than earned his title as the God of Mischief. She blushed as she recalled one young woman refer to his tongue as being more masterful than his sorcery. Wilhelmina was surprised that the woman had been intimate with him and lived to tell the tale.

Remembering this, she desperately wanted to be away from him. She was even willing to return home if it meant she could escape without detection.

However, her fear quickly turned to confusion as she saw Loki bend to pick blades of grass. She actually tilted her head as he held the blades of grass to his mouth. She thought that he would eat them before she heard him speak. Was he talking to them? She had little time to decipher his words before he tossed them towards the still seated couple.

It took every ounce of strength she had not to scream as the small blades of grass turned to snakes in midair before they landed atop the lord and lady. There was a great mess of screams and hisses that at first terrified her, but as she saw the way that Lord Val desperately clung to the woman and shrieked to the heavens, she couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face. When a giggle left her mouth, her head snapped to look below her, but the prince did not seem to hear her.

He was laughing, hysterically. The sight was odd to her as it didn't compare to what she had imagined him to be like. She could not help but smile down at him. She had to admit, even if he was guilty of everything he was accused of, he remained unaffected by their judgment. He held himself together so well while she would turn to stone under any harsh criticism. His magic was legendary, and he held it over their heads. No one could take it away from him, and no one dared to try.

With a huge grin still on his rather handsome face he snapped his fingers, turning the snakes back into grass. Lord Val and his escort immediately ran for their lives. When she turned her head back to Loki, she flinched when she saw that she was alone once again. Where had he gone? Wilhelmina was starting to believe that she may have imagined the whole surreal experience, and then the image of his face crept back into her mind's eye. It was not the cold, stern face she had seen in many paintings, but a face that was alight with mischievous delight. She knew it was a look few would ever witness and she feared it would take centuries for her to forget it.

Carefully lowering herself from the tree, she walked over to the now unoccupied bench. She stooped down to gather the grass, and then rose to turn her steps towards home. Yet another smile graced her features as an idea began to take root.