PROLOGUE

Thor ran as fast as his small legs would carry him down the narrow dirt path, ignoring the guards and serfs who bowed to the young Prince as he passed by them. Sweat beaded and dripped down his face, clearing tracks in the dark dust that covered his skin and clothes. His mother stood near the gates, dressed in her finest green silks and jewels. At the sight of her son, a complete foil to her appearance, she clicked her tongue and sighed, using her handkerchief and a light dab of spit to try and clean his cheeks.

"Come now," she scolded. "How does a boy like you manage to find enough dirt in the world?" She held his chin and turned his head from one side to the other, inspecting what work she could do to clean her child, shaking her head and pursing her lips. But before she could say anymore the wooden gates rose, and she straightened, unable to hide the beaming smile on her face. Other wives and children were gathered behind her, necks craning to find their husbands and brothers.

Odin led his men inside the gates, his one good eye meeting his wife's gaze, and he smiled. Frigga was immediately reduced to tears and his son was standing tall and proud, albeit dirty, with his shoulders held back and his chin high in the air. He carefully slid down from his horse, cradling a satchel in his arms, and embraced his wife. She was shaking against him as she pressed kisses to his mouth, cheeks, eyes, hiccupping with sobs all the while.

"I must speak with you at once," he whispered in her ear as he embraced her once again, careful to bow his back so that his precious cargo was not crushed between them. Frigga pulled back to look at him, her eyes dropping to the parcel, and then back up. She nodded and turned to Thor, taking her son's grimy hand and muttering to him about a private reunion with his father. Odin cleared his throat and addressed the crowd. Many women and children were crying, either with relief or despair over the bodies that had been rolled into the fortified city, covered in fur-lined blankets with their swords lying beside them, blades broken and chipped. Without preamble he promised them their time to mourn, for the next night was a feast to celebrate. At last, the Jotuns had been destroyed!

Odin locked the door behind them, taking a deep breath before turning to face his family. The curious ox skin satchel was still tucked into the crook of his arm, and Thor wondered for a moment if it was actually moving before his father wrapped his other large arm around it securely. "What I am about to show you stays within this room." he said darkly, and Thor's heart began to beat erratically. He knew that tone. He gulped and nodded without hesitation, though Frigga stared at him with narrowed eyes and pursed her painted lips. Finally, realizing that he was not going to continue without her promise of silence, she nodded her head once. Odin sighed, letting out his breath in one large sigh. He reached one hand over and carefully lifted the flap, pulling out a slight babe from the confines of the folds of leather, carefully wrapped in thick cotton swaddling. Its shiny blue skin reflected the light like glass, black whorls carving beautiful patterns into its skin. A blanket the soft periwinkle of fresh snow was tucked around him. Thor gasped and stepped closer to touch him, one hand outstretched, but Odin quickly moved back.

"Don't touch him," he said a little too harshly. Thor flinched and retreated. "He's Jotun."

"You stole a Jotun child?!" Frigga gasped, recoiling from the sight. One hand flew to cover her gaping mouth. Tears brimmed in her eyes. "And what of the parents? Do they mourn, or are they even aware of what has become of him?"

"He was left to die in the gutter," Odin said quickly. "He's a runt, a genetic failure. If I hadn't taken him when I found him, it would have been no better than if I had killed him myself."

"Even so, you promised us that they were no more. What will the people think when they see this child?"

"They will wonder how you kept yourself so beautiful during your pregnancy." he said gravely. "Look, even now his skin color fades."

Thor craned his neck to see that indeed, as his father said, the bluish tint to the babe's skin was fading to a more humanesque peach.

"He will be raised as an Asgardian prince, same as our own son."

"People will talk," Frigga argued. Odin rested the child on the nearby sofa, careful to keep his head supported, before facing his wife. "He will not look a thing like either of us. The people will accuse me of infidelity!"

Thor tuned out the sounds of his parents arguing, instead kneeling beside the sleeping child. He whimpered, as if sensing the tension within the room, and his eyes opened. Thor couldn't help the laughter as it burst from the pit of his stomach, for when the babe's eyes had opened, they'd been crossed to stare at each other over the bridge of his nose! With a blink they came into focus, and he stared around the room curiously, letting out infantile squeaks of delight at whatever he fancied. Thor grinned and touched him with a tentative finger, soon caught in a strong grip by a pudgy pink hand. His touch was warm, and very human-like. Thor managed to pry his finger from the tiny person's grip, and that was quite distressing. As the cub began to wail he picked him up, careful to cradle his head as his father had, and once again offered him the desired finger. And immediately, despite the dirt crusted underneath his fingernail, it went straight into the tiny, toothless mouth. Thor laughed again, turning to face his parents after noticing their silence. His mother and father both looked shocked at his behavior.

"I love him." he simply responded, and those simple words seemed to settle the matter. Frigga sighed, brushing a golden curl from her face.

"I guess I can form some story as to how I birthed the child." she said, and gently pried him from Thor's arms. "Come now, Thor, you're dirty, and you'll make him sick. Wash yourself and then you can hold your brother."

Thor bolted from the room, leaving the door wide open. Odin put an arm around his wife, who leaned against him and stared down at her child. "Loki," she said. "That is what I will name him."

"A fine name it is," Odin said, and kissed his wife's temple. "Now, leave him to the maids for the evening. We have a victory to celebrate."

Deep in the Jotun lands Farbauti was hiding with her surviving warriors, licking her own wounds and cursing all of Asgard's warriors; they had destroyed her perfect kingdom, and she was going to kill that bastard King if it meant the death of her as well. She looked up as one of her generals approached her, carrying a bloody sword in his hand. The tip of it dragged along the ground, carving an inch deep channel in the frozen dirt. Without any preamble he raised the blade above his head and brought it down towards her. Farbauti scoffed and reached up a hand to grasp the blade. It stopped, not even breaking her hard, icy skin. The man's crimson eyes widened in fear.

"You dare to kill your Queen?" she asked in a voice barely above a whisper. Ice traveled down the blade, freezing his hand to the hilt. And when the weapon shattered, so did it, and he screamed as blood dripped from the neat cut where his appendage used to hang. The other warriors around began to speak to each other in hushed tones, which immediately ceased when she screamed at them. It was a barbaric and angry wail, but it frightened them like she'd needed. "Anyone else?" The clearing remained silent, her men waiting for her words. Good, that was how she liked it.

"We will retreat, for now, and our forces will grow. Mourn your brethren, for soon we will take Asgard for our own."

Loki was deeply focused on the book in front of him, the long-dead magical language forming beautiful spells he easily memorized and tucked away inside his head. He was intently studious, and so his mind did not register the frantic shouting of his name until something hard collided with his skull, bursting cool and wet on the back of his neck and rightly knocking him from his perch on the low-hanging branch of an oak tree. He landed hard on his back, the breath violently ripped from his lungs. His vision swam. Thor's murky visage came into view, shaking him by the shoulders. Loki wheezed until the air found its way back into his chest. He sat up and reached a shaky hand to his wet hair, pulling back a squishy piece of fruit flesh. Apple, he noted sourly. Beyond Thor's head Fandral and Volstagg were guffawing loudly. Hogan stared on with less of a forlorn expression than usual, and Sif was biting her lip and failing to hide her amusement. Loki glowered dangerously at his brother, who in return released him.

"You would be wise in choosing better companions, brother." he hissed as he stood, retrieving his book from where it had landed in the black soil beneath the tall tree. Thor only laughed in response and stood. Loki knew his brother would not take his advice. Even as close as they were, Thor was seventeen, almost a man, and the five years that separated them were becoming more apparent each day.

"My friends are fine people, Loki." Thor argued. Fandral laughed loudly, slapping a hand on the Golden Prince's broad shoulders.

"Indeed." he agreed. "And perhaps if you would take your nose from those dusty old books and actually talk to people, you'd have friends to defend your honor as well." Fandral must have thought himself a comedian, which was insulting enough, but the true cut was when Thor joined the chorus of laughter. Loki took a deep breath and pointed a slim finger at his offender. Just the motion of it halted their mirth. Thor even stood away from his friend's grasp.

"I curse you to fire, a burning betwixt your legs like the flames of Hell itself! It will leave you crying for mercy!" Even as Fandral tried to look unaffected by his words, Loki could see the worry in his eyes. With a shake of his fingers he added "ZIS BOOM BAH!" and dashed away to the sound of the young men cursing at him and Thor's weak attempts to try and quiet them down. So much for brotherly love.

Loki hid in the castle library, tucked away inside the velvet curtains of a window. It was by the light of his own magic that he read, until the sun began to sink and Thor stormed into the room and forcibly dragged him from the sill by the silk collar of his tunic. Loki landed on his bruised arm, clutching his book protectively. Thor pinned him down, straddling him so he wouldn't fight.

"Fix it!" he roared, shaking him, and Loki squirmed to trying and get out of his grasp, magic dripping from his fingers though he wouldn't dare hex him.

"No!" he shouted at him, kicking his legs uselessly at the air behind his brother. "He struck me, and yet is him you defend?"

"T'was a joke, brother! He never meant to hit you!"

"But he did, and you didn't even bat an eye!" With those words Loki vanished. Thor scrambled to his feet, turning to find him on the other side of the room, one hand outstretched towards him. "If you attack me again, brother, I will have no qualms about doing the same to you!"

"Boys!" Frigga shut the library door behind her and pinned her sons beneath a disappointed scowl. Both of them blanched and lowered their eyes to their shoes. "The servants tell me you have been running around screaming for your brother. And Fandral's mother has just spoken with me about you casting a spell on him." she scolded harshly. "She says he has Chlamydia."

At that both boys snorted rather uncouthly with laughter, hiding behinds their hands when Frigga scowled.

"Loki, you know you are not allowed to use your magic on people like that." she continued.

"He threw an apple at me and knocked me out of a tree! I could have snapped my neck, no thanks from Thor."

"He did what?"

"He was joking, mother! That Loki fell was an accident."

"Still you found amusement." Loki muttered beneath his breath, earning a poisonous look from his mother. Frigga sighed, rubbing her temples and collapsing into a plush velvet reading chair by the hearth.

"What am I to do with you?" she sighed. "You're brothers, whether you like it or not, and that means you must look out for each other. Thor, the next time someone hits your brother, you stand up for him."

"I don't need his help." Loki snapped before he could stop himself. "My magic is good enough."

"I do not want to hear another instance of you bewitching anyone, nor of you laughing at your brother instead of helping him. It is the last time I will speak on the matter, I hope." She looked at each boy on turn before leaving the library. Loki could feel his brother's gaze on him as he retreated to his window, curling up in the drapes.

"Brother?" Thor's voice was thick and muted from the velvet wrapped around him. "I am sorry for laughing."

"You're sorry you got caught." Loki corrected. He heard Thor's low grunt of disapproval, and suddenly he was wrenched from his curled position on the sill and his book fell from his grasp. Thor swung him up onto a shoulder, which painfully dug into his midsection. "Release me you ogre!" Loki shouted as Thor began a jig to his own wailing baritone.