Prologue
From his vantage point high in the tower, it was obvious that Asgard was in turmoil. Heimdall had warned them, but his warning had, of course, come too late. For although Heimdall could see all the happenings of all the realms, he could only see the present, not the past or future, and Loki had been quick. And, quick as quicksilver, he had escaped.
Loki allowed himself a slight smile. This time, finally, all had gone as planned, and one of Thor's most beloved treasures was now in Loki's possession. The treasure itself meant nothing to him, but he imagined that its loss must be quite agonizing for Thor. That was good enough for now.
Below his tower-top lookout, Loki could see mounted guards combing the streets and structures of Asgard in a strategic search pattern. It was insulting that they should think him so easy to catch. Granted, he would have to leave soon; it wouldn't do to be thwarted when he'd come so far. Still, he had a little time.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Loki inquired of the 'treasure' in his arms. The infant turned its baby-blue eyes to him, though it was too young to understand. Well, that would come with time, as would the fruition of the rest of his plan. The child looked back out over the city, putting its little fingers in its mouth. Loki deftly repositioned the erring hand and wiped the fingers clean on the child's blanket. The child appeared not to notice.
A metallic clang resonated up the tower, followed by the swift clatter of armored boots. By the time the guards reached the top chamber, it was empty. Loki had moved on.