Loki despised commotion. That was, of course, unless it was orchestrated by himself. Then he had no qualms about reveling in his mischievous misdeeds. But it was Odin and his oh-so-glorious Thor who had raised quite a stir in Asgard as of late, while he remained a trapped insect atop a magically sealed balcony, his temporary holding cell overlooking Odin's great hall and throne. No longer would he take his place at the foot of it as Prince, no longer would he sit upon it as King ad interim.

Loki, hastily discarded by the All-Father, would remain atop his prison-perch and watch the wave of uneasiness and distress wash over the Asgardians below. Issuing Loki his penalty against Earth was seemingly irrelevant to Odin as he prepared for "higher matters". Irrelevant was not a new feeling for him. Cast aside to be dealt with later, Loki would stew in his juices for three whole days before he would be granted the knowledge of the recent comings and goings of his realm. Livid at the situation he had landed himself in and even angrier still that he could not lift a finger to alter it, he watched as Odin called an assembly to place.

Nearly an hour later when the crowd had gathered, Odin stood at his throne and commanded silence, addressing them:

"My fair people, much has gone on within the Nine Realms this Summer solstice. You have been afraid, and we have experienced much death among us. To this I say that you are not alone. Seven other realms share our fate. There is a violent epidemic sweeping across the Cosmos. Nature has not been kind, and it will continue to yield poor harvests. You have a right to know... I fear this may be a sign of Fimbulwinter."

Loki watched with a curious sort of dreadfulness in his heart. He knew what Fimbulwinter meant, what it would indicate. Odin faltered, his lips quivering slightly as Thor bowed his head.

"I have Seen that Ragnarok may be upon us."

A tumult of noise roared through the hall as panic spread throughout the hearts of everyone gathered below. Never before had Odin laid such warning, never before had his people experienced an event such as this, the possibility of the extinction of their race and all others.

Loki's stomach turned viciously as fear rose up in him like vomit. He had desire to rule Asgard, yes, but not to ruin it. It was still his home, despite whatever truths about his lineage had been hidden from him as a boy. And Ragnarok not only meant the deaths of his home and his people, but of himself and every other living being within the Realms. It meant nobody was safe.

First there would be spurs of violent ambition until the Cosmos turn on its inhabitants and natural disasters strike the lands. Typhoons of greater scale than any besides Odin could imagine, and weather too cold and harsh to yield any crops. Three consecutive winters. The end of all life. Wars and strife. Fimbulwinter, the precursor to the end of times as they knew it.

And Loki was being kept secluded like a misbehaved child. His insides churned at the thought of it. Realizing the similarities between his recent campaign in Midgard and the seemingly doomed future ahead of Asgard, Loki began to feel quite foolish.

Was I Midgard's Ragnarok? Is that really how the petty mortals felt of me, of my glorious purpose there? He was beginning to think that perhaps his actions weren't as wise as he first imagined. Was my endeavor overly-ambitious, and worse yet, could it have been the trigger to such cataclysmic events?

He was beginning to experience an inkling of real fear, when Gungnir, Odin's mighty spear, struck the ground. Silence was instantly achieved. Thor was looking gallantly out into the crowd at all the faces of his future Kingdom, standing straight and imposing as if he had commanded Gungnir himself.

Loki's fear of Ragnarok vanished with a snap and was replaced with a defiant, burning rage for his foster family. Great and glorious Thor, superior physique, unequalled strength, a skilled warrior and courtier. The perfect model of what a God should be, his mother had once said. The future King, his father had commanded. Yet he renders himself unconscious at an attempt of a simple cloaking illusion, nor is he even capable of handling words to soothe and appease others. The big brute.

"There is a long road ahead of us. Make no mistake, preparations will be made. There will be many hostilities, and a promise of another Great War. For this we will need warriors, and now is the time we call them to arms." The All-Father spoke slowly and deliberately.

Suddenly a chamber opened from the side, and Frigga emerged, leading a small host of the most beautiful shield-maidens that any Asgardian had ever laid eyes upon out into the hall. Loki had always been more educated in lore than of his oaf brother, and he knew immediately who the maidens were. Loki remained impassive but thoughtful up atop his balcony, as Thor stood by Odin's side with a sort of glazed look occupying his features. He seem dazzled by the very sight of them: Odin's Valkyries.