Half a Battle - Prologue
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Avengers.
(A/N) First off, I'd like to thank my brand new beta reader, outwriter18. Check out her stuff guys, she's really great!
Alright! So, this story begins a few months (probably six or somewhere around there) after Thor and Loki return to Asgard. This is set in the Marvel Movie-verse, as I am but a fledging comic book reader.
I'll also be toying around with some fan theories, all varying in popularity and exposure – just bear with me while I sort this whole thing out. No incest or non-canonical pairings not because I don't like them (but I will admit that incestuous parings aren't my most favorite thing in the world), but because personally I just feel at odds with the actual storyline if any detail differs from established canon. Unless it's AU, of course! ;D
Plus, I'm pretty much a non-shipper when it comes to the Avengers XD
I realize the moment the next sequel comes out this story will be defunct, but I hope you enjoy it anyway (:
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"A hero is an ordinary individual who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles."
- Christopher Reeve
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And to think they were gathered there for him. Loki, of all people. He supposed it was flattering, in a roundabout sort of manner. So many had convened to witness the verdict of his trial. They lined the walls, adorned in their finest garments – dresses whose many shimmering layers gave the impression of being as delicate gossamer yet sturdy as mail; regal cloaks clustered together also cluttered the corners, the armor they obscured polished to a blinding gleam.
Loki, by comparison, was rather underdressed. The months since his defeat, the weeks spanning the course of his complicated and very long trial, had been spent wearing variants of the same basic clothing. With his powers stripped to their bare minimum it was difficult to summon up enough glamour to influence his outward appearance; much less duplicate himself, resist, or make an escape attempt.
Hushed whispers filled the air; everyone was conversing with their neighbors, their sharp and inquisitive words inaudible to Loki's ears. This was, after all, an uncommon occurrence on Asgard. It was not every day the king's traitorous son was vindicated in front of the entire realm. It was bound to stir up some sort of reaction. This was the best part.
Today his sentence would be delivered.
What misfortune would become of the befallen? The court practically quivered with anticipation, his public humiliation bringing so much entertainment to their pathetic existences.
It is sickening.
He gazed upon them maintaining baleful thoughts, returning their stares and wearing an expression of complete and utter emotionlessness. He was rebelling against their fascination by trying his damnedest to give the ogling spectators nothing to enthrall themselves over.
Honestly, he didn't really care anymore. The least he could hope for was a cap on his powers and restricted traveling privileges, namely within the realms of Asgard and Midgard. But this was unlikely. So, Loki had spent his spare time in-between court sessions preparing for whatever fate would be assigned to him. It was the only thing expected of a failure, especially a failure that had made a promise to the God of Death.
The consultants, having been presented time and time again with numerous facts of evidence, the vast majority of it damning, were exchanging inane ideas similar to how a pair of children would pass a ball. But whether they decided on execution or banishment or some other form of punishment, the All-father had the final say. He was the king, of course. He had the final say on everything.
But it does not matter. Whether I am banished to the farthest corner of Yggdrasil or imprisoned in the dungeons for eternity, the end result shall remain the same.
Loki shifted his line of sight to the man who called himself his 'father', sitting not even three yards away from where he was standing, presumably feigning what was supposed to be concern for his youngest 'son'. Thor stood beside him, arms crossed, just as engrossed in the proceedings as Odin. Loki had to bite his tongue to keep from hissing with disgust.
They would not even listen, he told himself, intentionally deaf to the accusatory voices around him until he decided it would be more beneficial to listen instead. They would not listen when I tried to explain why…why…instead they called this "trial," this mockery of unbiased evaluation. Everyone here has already made up their mind, including them.
Loki felt betrayed. He had thought it impossible by this point in his personal history, yet it was undeniable. His self-proclaimed family did not defend him. They sat back and listened to each volatile remark, not lifting a finger in his defense. Loki had expected as much from Thor, given what had happened between them on Earth, but Odin? He knew from personal experience that the All-father was difficult to please but he did not think he had shamed the god that badly. Frigga was not even present, and her absence was most certainly noted.
They never were my family. They were not my family then and they are not my family now.
He had to wonder why Thor had insisted on a public reprimand. Because that's all this really was. Perhaps the older god had, in his own sentimental way, wished to expose his foster brother to a brand of justice which was influenced, at least partially, by those who were not Odin. Thor himself had not been treated to a trial when he attacked Jotunheim, what felt like an entire lifetime ago. Did he wish a fate which had been ruminated upon for his estranged sibling?
I do not need his help.
Of this Loki was certain. And if it was eventually proffered, he would refuse it. Thor just couldn't seem to get it through his head that Loki would never again be the smiling younger brother, dutifully gallivanting around in the elder's encompassing shadow. Those days were long behind them; longer than either of them wished to acknowledge.
"He should be put in the dungeons," someone volunteered.
Uninspired.
"Live out the rest of his days in Niffleheim," said another.
Being eternally saddle-sore would be more torturous.
Then Odin raised a hand and the hall fell silent. Thor was visibly tense, his crossed arms flexing and his fingers mindlessly tapping out an unrecognizable rhythm on his biceps. The God of Thunder was anticipating the following words more than anyone else, even more than Loki.
How ironic.
"Loki Odinson - I, Odin Borson, hereby decree you banished," Odin's voice rang out, deep and final. The voice Loki used to fear as a small child; when the All-father spoke like that, he knew he'd done wrong. Thor bowed his head. Loki didn't even blink. Not even the slightest twinge of anguish tainted his soul. It was more akin to fury, something he'd been acquainted with for so long he hardly even felt it anymore.
That is to be expected.
"…to Midgard."
The spectators tittered and the consultants balked simultaneously as Thor's head jerked upwards, looking at the All-father with what Loki thought was something like anger. Loki himself merely raised an eyebrow. Banishment had been expected, but to Midgard? The very planet he'd just been on the verge of conquering? The memory of his defeat left a bitter taste in his mouth, crawling all the way down his throat like some mal-intentioned animal. And it didn't have everything to do with those horrid 'Avengers' either.
This is…highly unusual.
One of the consultants, most certainly a high ranking official within the court drunk on his own pomp and empowerment by the look of his regalia, had the gall to stand up and actually challengeOdin's final verdict.
"With all due respect my liege," his head was gently tilted at the obliging angle courtesy dictated, but his graying brows were furrowed in frustration. "I mean no slight to you and your authority, but you cannot keep casting your problems into that abused realm. Has it not shouldered our own mistakes and been the stage of our private battles one time too many?"
"And if he regains his power while among the mortals? What then?" some implacable soul called out from the gathered crowd
Oh, that would be rather catastrophic indeed.
The All-father spoke to all present, "I will strip him of his powers."
Very standard.
It would not take the Chitauri long to find him, then. But he would be able to use his foreknowledge of their capabilities to avoid them for as long as he was able.
"…and of his memories."
There was a surge of noise as all of the attendees turned to one another and opined. This was fitting for such an individual as Loki – no, it was too harsh! Loki's train of aloof thought derailed amidst the mild cacophony, and he felt the consequences of his actions finally catching up to their sire. His head snapped up, and he stared the man who called himself his father in the eyes for the first time since returning to Asgard. So this was to be how he lived out the rest of his days? A clueless mortal, stranded on a primitive, backwater planet until the day the Chitauri finally made good on their promise to finish him? He wouldn't last a year.
"No!" The hall fell silent once more.
…Thor?
The God of Thunder had finally broken his silence. He faced the Allfather, face contorted in a strange mix of anger and futile appeal. "Father, you cannot –"
"You have no say in the matter."
It was a bittersweet moment. Loki did not need aid. Yet it was being offered, but by the last person he would have wanted it from were it required. The scene filled him with something almost – but not quite like – the sentiment he valued so little in himself and in others.
Thor shook his head and turned to Loki, mindless of the audience currently bated and breathless watching and listening to all that occurred.
"Brother –"
"Do not speak to me."
He was not Thor's brother. He was not Odin's son. He did not need help and he did not want it. He was humiliated but told himself the opposite. He was forever an outcast because of his actions and he loathed himself for it. But there was no going back, no redemption for the sinner. Loki was marked for death; he had been since he made the agreement with the Chitauri - since they exercised their hold over him and made him capable of deeds he had thought impossible, thoughts placed in his mind when floating aimlessly through the void of non-existence after letting go of everything on the Bifrost.
"Do not call me brother."
Thor recoiled. Loki had said the words to the god before. But every time he looked just as hurt, as if it were the first instance the poisonous syllables had been tossed into the air for him to hear. Thor was sensitive, he wanted to be sympathetic. By contrast Loki was callous, and promised himself he would stay that way. Forever opposed despite wishes otherwise.
It was unfair. But it was the way things were.
"Are there any objections?" Thor asked the hall. He pleaded with them. "Is there no one who bears qualm with this ruling?"
The silence was loud. It rang in Loki's ears, unbroken and taunting. The only one who broke it was Thor. No one else held enough love for the trickster to defy their king.
"The court is dismissed," Odin gave everyone leave. Thor spun on his heel and hurried out, cape billowing behind him. The consultants followed suit, albeit much less furiously. As the court members attending just for the entertainment value began to file towards the doors, the familiar squadron of guards came and formed a block around Loki. They moved and he took care to keep pace; each step took him closer to the containment cell which had been serving as his quarters since his arrival.
The God of Mischief was resigned to accept what the twisting roots of Yggdrasil had in store for him next.
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Thor paced back and forth within his father's chambers; his footsteps echoed off the cavernous walls and ceiling. As a young boy, he had used to enjoy seeing just how long certain noises and words would resonate within its golden-hued confines. He and Loki had used to hold contests to see who could make their sounds last the longest. But that had been a millennium ago. The only thing which filled it now was the audible remnants of his discontent.
"Father," he stopped pacing and turned to face Odin as the older god entered the room, returning from the hall where he had just sentenced his youngest son to a life unknown. "Father, I beg you. Do not send him away. Loki should remain in Asgard, I know it! We must reconcile –"
"I cannot rescind my word. Loki will spend the rest of his life on Midgard in mortal form."
Thor found it difficult to reign in his disbelief, his frustration. Why was his father determined to remain blind to the obvious solution? What Loki needed now was the assurance that he was not disposable; he needed to feel the strength of community and family more than ever before. He might not be so keen on it now, but in time Thor knew his brother would return to at least a semblance of his former self.
"But why? Why can he not stay on Asgard?"
Odin stood his ground, despite the intimidation most would feel in an angered Thor's presence. He wasn't intimidated by anyone, much less his own son. Thor knew that behind his father's eye patch there was nothing but an empty socket, but he could have sworn that the All-father had both eyes trained on him for the intensity he felt.
"Is it your love for the Midgardians which compels you to plead his defense?"
"There is more to it than that," Thor protested. "It is because Loki is my brother. I care for his wellbeing deeply. You speak of my duty to protect Midgard, yet you belittle it. Why is this, father? Do you doubt my ability to perform admirably both my guardian and familial tasks?"
The young god's voice had risen now – passersby would be able to hear it for sure. But Thor did not care. He was sick of his father's wayward lessons and misguided attempts at benevolence. He began to pace again, in spite of his resolve to be looking the All-father full-on in the face throughout the entire confrontation. He had energy, and it needed to go somewhere. He flexed the fingers belonging to the hand where Mjölnir's leather-bound handle usually resided.
This is maddening!
Odin finally answered after a long pause, a period of time apparently spent within his own thoughts. "No, I doubt you not."
Thor stopped pacing again. "Then tell me, father – do you not love him as mother and I do?"
He spat the words, hurling them accusingly. He had held his tongue for months now. The events on Midgard still lay fresh in his mind, festering; the fight with Loki on Stark Tower, his futile pleas for his brother's camaraderie. He had succeeded in detaining Loki but had failed to break through that hardened layer of bitterness which encapsulated his younger sibling's heart. Then Thor had stood aside in silence, the anger he held towards himself for failing, at Loki for accepting his own wickedness so readily, and at his father for taking so little responsibility for all his deeds had caused slowly building until they erupted in a flood of misdirected torment.
"Of course I love him."
"Then why can't he stay on Asgard? Stay with us, his family?"
The All-father sighed, taking a seat at one of the many chairs sequestered in the space.
"He does not see us as his family anymore, Thor."
Thor remained standing. He did not speak; he simply waited for a more in-depth answer, and he got one.
"I have inadvertently caused Loki great pain. His wounds are not visible, and often those are the kind which are the most difficult to mend. Oft I wonder if he would not have been better off if I had left him on Jotunheim when he was but a babe."
The All-father looked tired, faded and worn thin. But it could not be the Odin Sleep which taxed his demeanor so. Thor concentrated on cataloguing the tell-tale signs of fatigue his father carried with him as he listened. Thor supposed he bore similar marks and stresses; after the past months, they all did.
Odin continued, "He does not see us as his family anymore, Thor. Loki has become something neither of Asgard nor of Jotunheim, and his search for inner peace has yielded no results. Only more pain."
The gray-haired god gave pause, making certain his son was still listening intently, and then resumed.
"I made him what he is, and if not that then I certainly had a hand in creating the wicked loneliness which consumes him so. Loki is unwilling to let go of his hatred and because of this there is only one solution to alleviate his sorrow – a new life. Can you not see he will be happier this way?"
Thor shook his head, crossing his arms.
Redeeming the past is one thing, but the problems he represents should not be solved through this method.
"Do not presume to know him well," he replied flatly. "Loki has changed much in a short amount of time. You no longer know what is best for him."
"And neither do you, my dear son," Odin was addressing him uncharacteristically softly. He was speaking to Thor as he spoke to Frigga. The God of Thunder would have rather had him screaming; it would have been the perfect trigger for the younger to release his inner-turmoil.
"Father, this is ludicrous," he continued to protest, searching madly for another reason, any reason, as to why a life for his brother on Midgard was impossible. "Loki is responsible for the deaths of thousands on Midgard – the sight of his face will not be one most would dismiss."
The All-father interrupted him with an answer, naturally. "I will amend the original glamour placed on your brother in order to keep him safe. He will not be recognized."
Damn him.
"I still think Loki should stay." He felt like a petulant child, whining and moaning in order to change his favor.
"I know."
Thor closed his eyes. His father continued to fail to see reason. There would be no changing his mind at this point. The All-father was obviously convinced what he was doing was the best option; otherwise he would not have defended his actions so stalwartly. When the All-father made up his mind it was absolute.
He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, his expression noticeably calmer. "Father, my entire life has been spent looking up to you," Thor began, making his way towards the closed doors of the chamber. "Everything you have ever done has been right, and everything you said was final. I know you believe yourself to be in the right, and I know now that another appeal would be futile to my cause."
His fingers were gripping the ornate handle, but before turning it he paused and looked backwards at his father. Odin stood tall and stoic, peering at his son with the face of a man who had lost everything and gained nothing.
"This is the first time I have ever been so assured your way is not the correct path to take. Loki is my brother and your son. To remove ourselves from his life and leave him on Midgard is abandonment wearing naught but the guise of righteousness. It is cowardly."
And then Thor was gone, the doors closed once more, and no one was there to keep Odin company but himself and the bitterness of both his children's anger.
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The cell was small but not unpleasant. A modest little cot tucked into the corner, a tiny excuse of a washroom hidden behind some curtains in the corner, a light source in the ceiling washing every corner with a dim yellow glow. No windows. No books. Nothing but Loki and his thoughts.
He despised it.
He despised the bare walls, the limited amenities, and the sparse furnishings. But most of all he hated being alone. Within the silent confines of the power inhibiting space, he spent the majority of his time in-between court sessions sitting on the edge of the cot or pacing. The attentive guards stationed outside would not talk to him, and so there was nothing to fill the void of lost companionship but save for his dark inner musings.
This evening was slightly different from the others preceding them. Loki sat, perched tensely on the cot's taught corner. What set this mundane experience apart from the others was the presence of Frigga.
He ignored her, pretended she was not there.
I am not your son. Do not pretend to care for me.
The All-mother played along obligingly, keeping about a foot of space between them. She did not try to touch him. She was mute, but Loki was unsure as to whether he was grateful for that or not.
No. I am grateful. I do not need nor desire her sympathies.
The black thoughts running through his mind with wild abandon, however, paid their guest no heed. They gnawed and pulled at the edges of all feeling and meditation, impossible to ignore and blatant in their pessimism.
I will not last long on Midgard, will I?
It was highly unlikely he would, and Loki knew this. He knew he needed to fight, but he also knew once his recollections of his godhood were taken from him, he would be defenseless to protect himself against the furious Chitauri. It would have had to happen sooner or later, lest they eventually make it to Asgard and kill him there.
Loki had been perturbed as to why he had not received any telepathic communication with the feared alien force in the past months as he had during his stay on the inferior, mortal-infested realm. He could only guess that something about Asgard's glamour shielded him, partially at least, from their detection. But once more, it didn't matter, for he would be very exposed once thrown from his boyhood home.
He closed his eyes, putting his hands to his face in a gesture of exhaustion more than anything else. How had it come to this?
Odin lied to me. He denied me my birthright.
Where did it all go wrong? How had this judgment come to pass?
I fought Thor.
Why did that make any difference?
…I lost.
He was showing weakness in front of the goddess, so he put his hands on his knees, lifted his eyes to the closest wall. He still gave the All-mother no mind other than to save face whilst in her presence.
He could feel his anger, his constant companion. It surged within him like an unbidden force, practically a presence in itself. He was angry with everything. And under that anger lurked something much worse, something Loki did not want to even give the slightest nod to lest it overwhelm his carefully constructed barriers of hubris.
Fear. Terrible, terrible fear.
I am not afraid. The god with a silver tongue needn't fear any entity.
There was a soft rustle of fabric. Frigga's hand was on his shoulder. Gentle, assuring.
Poisonous.
But he did not shrug it away. Doing so, Loki reasoned, would be giving her the attention she so deceitfully craved. So the All-mother's hand remained on his rudimentarily-clad shoulder as Loki ran his own fingers through his hair, feeling the clipped and washed strands slip easily between them.
"We love you Loki," she said warmly. "We never stopped."
Then why are you sending me away? Why are you wiping your existence from my mind?
He didn't turn to look at her, instead focusing on his reflection in the charmed mirror hung in the corner.
Charmed because they presume I wish to harm myself? There are other methods for me to achieve such a…goal. A mirror made unbreakable does not my well-being ensure.
A few faint scars remained stretched across his face from the encounter with the green beast the Midgardians and Thor had dubbed "The Hulk". If his glamour were functioning, he would have been able to hide them with a few whispered words of incantation. But being powerless as he was, he was left in the closest thing possible to his true form; still Asgardian in appearance, but with every flaw easily visible.
"I advised your father against erasing your recollection of Asgard," Frigga continued, her hand now absent from his shoulder and folded neatly against the other in her lap. "But this is what he thinks is best. His intentions might seem cruel, but they are well-intentioned."
She stood slowly, as if exhausted. Loki still refused to look at her.
"I know you will be unable to remember this conversation by tomorrow morn," she made for the exit. "…but please, Loki. It does my heart and mind much ill to see you like this. I beg you to know, at least for a short while, that you will never be alone on Midgard. You are in our thoughts and hearts always."
And Frigga left, unknowingly shadowing the earlier action of her eldest son. But unlike Odin, Loki was not alone. Not truly, anyhow.
I still have those marvelous little thoughts and voices to entertain myself with, do I not?
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The next morning Loki was taken from his cell and escorted to a room he'd never been in before, a dark space he estimated had to be either below or somewhere near the weapons vault. Tired almost beyond the point of exhaustion, he silently ran through a couple of fantastical escape scenarios. None of them ended in success. But that wasn't about to stop him from thinking about it.
It had taken effort to hold his head high, to keep his feet from scuffing the floor and his shoulders squared when he'd be summoned from the cell by the guards. Even gods needed to sleep, however inconvenient those spans of time spent unconscious may be, and the hours following Frigga's visit had been anything but restful.
Enough of that. Sleep does not matter. Power does not matter. Neither the lack nor the possession of these means a thing – it does not make anyone here superior to me. They are all inferior.
Loki swept the room with his half-lidded eyes, making sure to keep an air of aloofness about him. Nothing they did, could, or would do was capable of intimidating him, and he wanted to make sure they knew it. He observed Thor and Odin standing in the center of the room, the guards flanking him front, back, and on both sides. He observed the high ceiling and the glossy floor, the entire room made from something akin to obsidian.
He observed but he did not absorb. Loki was as detached as he could possible make himself, staying focused on one very important train of thought.
I loathe them. I hate them for pretending to care. I despise them for their investment in such an insignificant little planet. I think them to be as weak as the beings that live there, soft of heart and mind. They are nothing compared to me.
"Loki," Odin said. His features were molded with regret, but his eyes spoke of the true feelings he held for the disgraced god before him. Loki knew this. Convinced so he was, of the synonymous abhorrence Odin held for him.
"This is for your own good, my son."
Those words rekindled the raging animosity within him, if only for a few moments.
"I am notyour son," Loki spat. "You are a fool to think I still consider myself your kin."
The All-father did not appear phased, the disgusting look of pity still residing on his face. Loki hoped his words had hurt him, in some small insignificant way at least, even if Odin had never truly loved him as his son.
Loki shifted his attention to Thor. The muscle-bound individual in question was staring at the floor. Not at Odin, and most definitely not at Loki. Out of the three of them, he seemed to be the one who was most reluctant to be in attendance.
"What's the matter, Odinson? Are you too soft to witness a murderous traitor receive his dues?"
His malice laden words did not dent the warrior's armor, not like they had done so obviously yesterday. Loki's antagonism simmered, dying embers. There was no reason to drag it out any longer.
He turned back to Odin.
"Do it."
Come on now, I know you want to. Just get it over with!
"I have been summoning dark matter since you and Thor returned to Asgard," Odin stepped closer, the guards making way. They had no reason to fear a wordsmith who held no power, a god skilled with a knife whose hands were bound. "It is through this taxing method you will be sent to Midgard."
Loki sneered. "Why not use the Tesseract? Are you afraid that one glimpse of it on my part would be enough to send Asgard plummeting from the heavens?"
Odin gave no answer other than to place both of his aging hands on Loki's shoulders. The latter would have pulled away or made some other adverse action were it not for the guards around them.
"You will not remember anything of Asgard. Your brother, your mother, and myself will no longer be a part of your memories. You will have nothing, Loki. You will be able to begin again."
How lovely.
"Now tell me - is there any particular place on Midgard you wish to be deposited?"
Loki knew hardly any places on Midgard by name. Even if he did, he still bore no special affection for any location in particular; it was all equally vile. He held his tongue.
"Very well," Odin closed his eye, preparing himself, and –
"Wait, father."
Odin turned his head, his gaze laser-like.
"What is it, Thor? Speak quickly."
"Send him to New York," Thor's brows were furrowed. He wanted this, and badly at that. Was New York a notion Thor had spent time ruminating upon, or had the idea hit him only moments ago? Loki could only wonder, for he would never know.
"Why do you ask this of me?"
"Please, father. Send Loki to the place you directed me when I was sent to fetch him."
New York? That is indeed a strange choice, seeing I destroyed a good portion of it. But if that is where I am to be banished, so be it.
Odin raked his son up and down with his eye for a few seconds more. There was a pregnant pause before he said, with hints of begrudging stubbornness, "Very well." Then his attention was once more turned on Loki.
Here I go.
The All-father closed his eye once more, and began to concentrate. Nothing. Loki didn't feel any different than he had a minute ago, and he was quite underwhelmed. He had expected his first and last dark matter transportation to be a little more invigorating.
Wait…
Now, something was happening. Barely perceptible, but yes, there was change occurring both within the room and within Loki himself. The air felt alive, physically so – it crackled faintly with electric currents produced by the magic and the dark matter, the two elements of fantasy mixing tentatively around them.
There was the slightest tugging at his sternum; some inter-dimensional force was trying to pull him across the galaxy. It was a strange feeling, yes, but it was manageable.
This is not so horrible.
It was only when the edges of his conscience began to unravel that the trickster began to experience the dreaded feel of panic.
The room began to fluctuate, like waves of heat inside the kitchen stoves. His surroundings fading, his mind wandering, Loki called out.
"Wait, stop this! I do not –"
But the pull at his body and mind increased, everything around him now nothing but black.
He couldn't recall where he was…
He was angry.
I am angry.
Why was he angry?
Because…because I am being sent away.
By whom?
I do not know.
What was he? Who was he?
…I do not know.
He was nothing.
(A/N) Loki-getting-sent-to-Earth isn't the most original idea, I know, but I wanted to put my own spin on it 8D This'll be my first time writing about an amnesiac, and I'm excited for the challenge ~ ! WHA-HA-HA-HA! *excitement*
I made up the stuff about the Asgardian trial system; do you think it was okay? I figured Loki would be sort of "BAH! Everybody's out to get me" after the Avengers. Also Odin's not a total dick. He just has no idea what's best for his sons. And Loki's a petulant little bugger who is in some serious denial. Thor's pretty okay though, a little too idealistic for his own good in my opinion XD
I hope you enjoyed and come back for more!
Read ya' next time ~ Vots