AN: The prologue is in Loki's perspective and is a bit of a recap of past events. The "he" that Loki refers to is Thor, but he can't bring himself to even think/say his brother's name. He's a very angry little god right now. The rest of the chapters will be in first person and will switch between chapters to Thor or Loki.
Following chapters will be longer than this one, for this is merely a prologue.
"Don't look at me like that," he said to me. I was glaring at him with my icy eyes as his doleful gaze lingered on my piteous state. I was basically muzzled and my hands were bound so I could not use my powers as I saw fit to. If only my mouth was free I could escape those disappointed eyes and have my vengeance in due time. I could look at him any such way I wished to, for my eyes were my only weapon against his reproachful presence. Why should I look at him with anything other than anger, hate and pain? He and his companions stole my victory from me.
I was to be a god over Midgard and ruler over the mortals that dwell there with my army enforcing my right to rule. I was not only to rule as a king rules over his people, but with my power I would have ruled as a god over all men. I would have been crowned in glory above even he who now pities me and treats me as a prisoner or war.
I suppose he expects me to be grateful for taking me back to Asgard where I will be judged by what he views as "our" people. His folly lies in his assertion that I am his "brother" primarily and apparently all else I am and all I have done is secondary. Hear me now as I say to you that I am not even his brother and, even further, not even a native of Asgard.
I am Loki—son, betrayer and the death of Laufey, King of the Frost Giants of Jotunheim—former ward of Odin, King of Asgard; once King Loki—regent and protector of Asgard itself—and known by all mortal men as the vengeful trickster and the god of mischief. Called by those that ended my most recent ambitions as Kinslayer, the 'adopted son' and 'puny god'.
My pride may be injured by those petty titles, but they cannot take away what I once was. I shall rise once again to my destiny, though at the moment I have to sort out what that is, exactly.
It still astounds me how my "dear brother" pines after my redemption like a love-sick pup. It is as if he expects that I was somehow misled through no fault of my own. I should take that as an insult rather than a mercy. Should he think so little of me that I would be controlled by others and their own selfish desires? I should think not. So far, I have suffered quite enough from my own selfish desires, but still I am not satisfied.
"Loki, you were trying to impose rule over a free people. You brought war to a peaceful realm. What else was I supposed to do but stop you and bring you home?" he said as he interrupted my thoughts once again. If I could have spoken, I would have ripped his pity to shreds and spat on his good intentions, but I was muzzled and did not even utter a grunt or gesture in response. I could practically feel my cold gaze cutting through his resolve like a hot knife through butter.
He sighed as if he was tired and fed up with dealing with me and escorted me to my own room that I had held at Asgard before I had left in a rather dramatic manner. If I hadn't left when I had, though, I would not have gained the army I needed for the take-over of Midgard. My subsequent plans had failed, but I know that the overall goal for those who helped me has not changed and will not I let that information slip without significant gain on my part. He left me alone, though he let me know that my doors would be guarded and that I wasn't to be unbound until my hearing with Odin. I think he has spent too much time with the mortals of Midgard; he is starting to state the obvious far more often than usual.