This is the story of one of my sons, the crown prince of Asgard. Let me start at the beginning.

My two sons lived in a world of luxury and glamour. Great feasts, silk and damask. Nothing was them denied, anything they asked for, they could have. They were princes. Princes of Asgard, the wealthiest of the Nine Realms, the last kingdom still standing.

I am proud to say that I feel that I raised them well. My husband and I made sure that all their needs were seen to, that they would only feel the beauty of our world and that they had the best teachers, money could buy.

They were taught royal manners, warfare, mathematics, literature and much more. Through scholarships funded by the royal house they learned about foreign cultures from children of the Nine. They were fond of the children who all came from places far away, and I am sure they ended up considering quite a few of them their friends.

It was with great pleasure that I observed my two sons grow into fine and well educated young princes. I knew, just as well as my king knew, that even after the two of us would pass away, our realm would still have great regents to follow us. That was how we had raised them.

Yes, I could easily recognize that both of my sons had great qualities for a leader. My dear youngest son, Thor, was the born warrior. He took great interest in fighting and planning battles, and I knew that he would never fight a battle from a safe chair far from the field, no he would be seen marching at the front, giving great speeches of courage to his warriors before he himself would race towards a mighty enemy, sword in hand and a voice that bellowed with pride and power.

And my darling eldest: Loki. Intelligent and ambitious. At the age of nineteen he had been to the library in the northern wing of the palace often enough to have read all the books we stored there. I still remember how my chest swelled with pride, the day the child's teacher came and told us that he had magic in him. He was twelve that morning.

Very few Asgardians have magic (it's more common to the people of Jotunheim, Alfheim and Svartalfheim), but we were assured that Loki's powers were real and so very magnificent. A long time ago magic had been common to Asgardians, but for some reason the magic died out when the ancient Asgardians started marrying and having children with people, and namely magicians, from the other realms. An erudite once told me that if an Asgardian magician lives together with another magician then only the magic of the strongest would survive, killing the magic of the other party slowly but surely.

I showered our boy with praise, told him how great it was, and he looked at me with so much happiness in his eyes.

Odin, my husband, was also very proud when he heard, I could tell from the look in his eyes. But for some reason he never showed the child that pride. I never figured out why, and no matter how many times I've tried to ask him I've never had the courage.

Between my boys there are three years in age. They have been close ever since they were very small children. As they grew of age they looked out for each other, and there was never jealousy between them, nothing out of the ordinary childish jealousy at least. I knew that my Thor would become a great master of arms, a royal counselor to the crown prince, when they both grew up and took their rightful places.

I never doubted that Loki would become a magnificent king.

But he would never be king.

It was a beautiful and quiet morning right before dawn, before any sound would break the silence that graced the nights of the royal palace. There were a few more hours until the red rooster and the white rooster would fight over who could crow the loudest and thereby wake up the entire servant wing. No, the morning was still just mine, and I intended to keep it that way for as long as I could, cherishing these short moments until sunrise and morning activities.

So I just sat there in the shared chambers of my two sons, now no longer children, but young adults. It was a day for celebration, Loki's twenty fourth birthday. But as he lied there asleep in his bed he looked just as much a child as he had done on his fourth. So peaceful and graceful and I could not help myself but to rise from my seat in the windowsill and walk over to him to move some stray locks of black hair away from his face.

In the other bed I heard my younger son sigh loudly and I looked up in time to see him shuffle to his other side in his sleep. The sight of my two children, now so grown up, filled my heart with what felt like a comfortable and warm fluid. I smiled at them and gave myself time enough to kiss both of them on their foreheads before I left their chambers. They needed rest.

And I needed to be elsewhere and help prepare the celebration.

There were great announcements to be made at the party that day, and the entire palace was buzzing with activity by early midday. Everyone seemed to be looking forward to the feast, smiles on all faces, and some of the guests from the other realms had already come several days ago. The last of them were arriving now. Yes, everyone seemed happy. Except for one.

Loki.

"Would you rather we ate raspberries? I knew the strawberries were a bad idea,"

"Mother,"

"The last guests from Svartalfheim just arrived, I do think you should go see th-"

"Mother, please," I knew what he wanted to say, but I didn't want to hear it. So I pretended not to listen to what he was saying. It was too late to rearrange everything anyway. So instead I took his head in my hands and looked him over.

I could see my affection being reciprocated in the way his eyes shone. "Look at you," I said and smiled at my big boy. "Twenty four years, tall as a tree, handsome and ripe for marriage." I could feel my eyes heat and before I could do anything about it, Loki had swept away a tear from my cheek. "Mother, don't cry today, it is a day of joy, remember?" he smiled at me, and I knew it was a false smile. I had always been the only one able to tell when his smiles, his tears or even when his anger was unreal.

It was always our little secret.

"Yes, you're right! You've just grown up so quickly," he took my hands in his and squeezed them. "Now," my face turned sterner as I remembered all the things the servants still needed my help for, "Enough with this, off you go! You need to ready yourself," I shooed him away, and his face dropped the smile instantaneously, when he thought I wasn't looking. It hurt me to know that he wasn't interested in his own birthday party. But somehow I understood him.

I had been nervous at Odin's twenty fourth birthday party as well, seeing how it had also been our engagement party.

There was a loud chattering as the first meals were taken out from the tables and the seconds ones were carried in. One of the presents from the Jotun president was a beautiful show at the dinner itself. There were at least twenty (I was unable to count them exactly) blue skinned dancers moving around in a rapid classic Jotun dance. It was an admirable sight, and I believe that everyone enjoyed it. When I looked over to the high seat (a place normally reserved to my husband, but for this one special day seated by my son) I could see Loki's eyes shine with interest. They were the same shade of green as the silk tunic he was wearing underneath his velvet cloak. They had the same shine to them as the emeralds of his jewels. His hair was drawn back, but he couldn't help fiddling with a black lock by his ear.

When the last main meal had been served I saw my husband rise from his place right beside the high seat. His posture was as formal as ever and everyone quieted down as soon as he'd made notion of standing. He cleared his throat and looked around. Our eyes met and he smiled at me. This was a day he'd been awaiting for many years. As his eyes moved on I captured the gaze of first Thor, who was smiling brightly, showing great happiness on his brother's behalf, and then the gaze of Loki himself, who looked like he wanted to disappear from the surface of the Realms. I hoped that the day would become better as it progressed.

"On this happy day of our Realm my eldest son has turned twenty four. It is an important day to any Asgardian, a future king no less than others." He turned to face his son and placed his hand over his own heart and gave him a short bow. A gesture connected to respect in all the realms. "From today on you are an adult, and will be treated as such." Everyone was waiting anticipatingly, as I'd expected, for the next part of Odin's short speech.

"Without further ado, I shall now introduce your future wife and the future queen of Asgard." Odin cleared his throat again and I stole a glance at the future queen, who was the only person at the dinner apart from Odin and I, who knew about the engagement plans. I hoped that Loki would learn to love her. "I expect you to respect and love your fiancée for as long as you live. Loki, meet Amora, daughter of the president of Alfheim."

The young and beautiful blond woman stood from her seat across the room (I had strategically placed her directly opposite Loki for the dinner, hoping that he would fall for her looks before the announcement). She too was wearing green. A silk dress, shaped nicely around her small frame, and with gold threads embroidered into the fabric. Her hair fell in nice curves over her shoulders. She had been instructed in the traditions weeks ago and she followed them to the letter. She bowed very deep for her fiancée and told him in a clear voice that she would respect and love him as long as she lived.

Loki stood up as well and echoed the words as it was custom, but his voice was dull and he averted his eyes from his fiancée. My heart felt heavy and I promised myself to have a long conversation with him after the party was over, to tell him that it would all be okay and even if he didn't fall in love with his fiancée they could still be well-balanced king and queen.

But right as the two were supposed to walk from their seats to do the Asgardian engagement dance (another custom I had not looked forward to, back when I was taught the engagement traditions for Odin's twenty fourth birthday) something stole the attention from the dining crowd of people.

I saw it before I heard it. An enormous cloud of light green smoke, the smell of deliciously cooked fish and veal had to give way to a smell of rotting eggs, and then the loud ringing tone in my ears. Magic. Panic made everyone stand from their seats, and the ringing tone was soon mixed with scared outbursts as the servants did their best to drive the guests out of the dining hall. I left with Thor at my side, coughing and sputtering because of the smoke.

When the worst panic had died down and the president of Svartalfheim had uttered his horror that something like this could happen in a palace as well guarded as this, I heard Odin ask Thor to fetch Loki for him, so the two fiancées could finish the traditions of the engagement before bad luck fell upon them. My heart skipped a beat at the words of their conversation.

"But father, I thought he was with you,"

"Don't be daft, I took care of miss Amora, didn't he leave with you?"

"No, father."

When the guests went to sleep in their guest chambers that night the search for the crown prince had been going on for more than seven hours. I was heartbroken. It had been such a beautiful quiet morning. I just wished the last words I had told him weren't a command of readying himself.

They should have been "I love you."