A/N: Welcome to my first fic on this fandom. I'm so excited for The Dark World/The Dark Kingdom (got tickets for Saturday, yeees!)and couldn't keep myself from starting a story. So hope you enjoy the first chapter. I mean to keep this story realistic and thrilling, so don't expect too much fluff and tell me if you find the plot lagging in any way. Please leave a comment, thanks!

Bold: thoughts

Italics: flashback scenes

Asgard's dungeons were a complex web of long and empty corridors, deep in the heart of the royal palace where the sun never touched the cold walls. This was the only place in the city build with thick blocks of smokey rough stone – a stern contrast to the polished splendour above ground. The chilly air enwrapped everything that dared to set its foot inside the area and Thor was grateful for the cloak he was wearing. It was not a place someone would wish to be.

Nine months had passed since New York. Nine months and it felt like a thousand.

Heavily armed guards had met Thor and Loki upon their return to Asgard. The Lie Smith, the Sly One had been led to the throne room where the eyes of hundreds of disgusted Aesir awaited him. It was the first time in history a prince of Asgard had fallen into complete disgrace, paraded like a stray dog in chains before the great council, under the king's cold watch.

The highest possible sentence left Odin's lips that day and the words had spread across the room like fog, before the people began to cheer with high held fists for justice.

Loki must die.

Not immediately, no. He would be given time to show penance for his sins. One year, thus had Odin the Wise ruled, should be enough time for Loki to understand.

His death would be through decapitation, the only way Odin had been able to show his youngest son some mercy- short and painless. But his effort had only bounced off the dark haired man's eyes as they turned red in front of the protesting crowd, before slowly his pale bruised skin shifted into a deep blue.

Crimson eyes had stared right back at him as Loki's lips had twisted up into what appeared almost like baring his teeth.

"Behold Asgard, what monster you called Prince! Look at the Jotunn who has sat upon your throne!"

The entire room had gasped in shock and Thor could still remember how cold his hands had turned at seeing Loki in his true form. It had been true after all what he and Odin had told him about the younger man's origin. Unable to move he had just stood there beside his mother as Odin sealed Loki's lips with magic, capturing his voice to ensure no further harm could be done by the twisted words he wielded.

"Loki Laufeyson!" The noise immediately died away when Odin rose to his feet, his voice grave and final. "You will be stripped of your titles and magic. The latter will be used against you to make your containment cell indestructible by any kind of force coming from you. Thusly runs my judgement."

Kept away from people.

Away from light.

Thor did not question Odin's verdict, but it hurt to see his little brother treated like some wild beast, hidden away and separated from everything and everyone. Frigga had no longer been able to contain her tears after Loki had been brought away and Thor himself had felt emotion pressing down on his lungs. Loki was his brother, no matter how much the other denied it.

They had grown up together, learned together, fought together. How could all this be wiped away from everyone's mind as if all those centuries of childhood and youth in each other's company had never happened?

How could that be called just?

Now Loki was guilty of terrible crimes. He had killed innocent people, he had almost plunged the world into chaos and Thor found himself wondering quite often now how much of his little brother was still left in that shell.

Monster. Murderer.

There had been a time when Thor would have defended his brother's honour against such ridiculous insults, but now he was no longer sure if he knew Loki at all anymore. Who was the man in front of him?

Slowly he stepped closer to the cell's thick glass and could almost feel its magic stroking his arms and face -magic to suck out the inmate's powers, leaving them like a dry leaf. This was what the tall man inside the container looked like by now.

Although Loki was hunched over a book in his lap, sitting on a wooden chair, something in Thor doubted he was really focused on the pages. His body rocked softly back and forth as his shoulders shook beneath his dark clothing. Long thin fingers trembled like spider's legs over the text.

The physical changes he had gone through in that time were impossible to miss. His hair, once always impeccably brushed from his face, now hang in raven waves down to his back and shoulders. He had always been pale, accentuated by his hair and the dark colours he preferred, but now his skin appeared frighteningly translucent. Like rice paper it stretched over his skeleton – he had refused any food and as a consequence his already slim figure had been reduced to a bare frame. His cheekbones threw dark shadows over his face and his green tunic hung loosely around a pair of bony shoulders.

The image sent shivers down Thor's spine. When had Loki withered away so much?

Green eyes rose from the pages they had been intently focussing on to meet a pair of blue ones staring right back.

Loki's thin lips curved upwards slightly at the corner, but his eyes were unyielding jade, every ounce of warmth ripped out from them long ago.

"How are you, Brother?" It surprised Thor how easy the last word rolled over his tongue still.

Loki instantly tensed but remained seated. His most effective weapon was still kept from him by Odin's spell. No words or sounds could help him get rid of the prince.

"Our father has fallen into the Odinsleep." said Thor.

Savage green looked back at him as Loki put his book aside. His features were set in stone.

"Loki-"

The younger man stood up from his seat in such a smooth action that Thor would not have thought possible in such a frail looking body. He clasped his hands behind his back annoyed at the blond god's disturbance. Did he not even have the right for some peace? He wasn't asking for more.

He began to pace the length of his cell in long strides, head shaking frantically from side to side. A shadow washed over his eyes and it took Thor a moment to see the blood on Loki's foot – dark red against his white skin. He had heard the guard's reports to Odin, knew that they were sometimes being disturbed by loud bangs and strange scratching noise from his corner of the dungeon, but it had never occurred to him that Loki could actually be hurting himself.

Maybe people were right – he was going mad.

"Loki, I'm here because I have a request. I came with a proposal." A pause. "Your freedom." said Thor.

The pacing stopped. Loki listened up at that, baffled at the words he had just heard from the older god's mouth. Slowly he turned around, head tilted forward. What was that?

"We need you."

His sharp eyes stayed trained on Thor – the eyes of a caged predator, ready to leash out any moment.

Thor returned his brother's stare, a part of him still hurt at the younger man's aggressive attitude. However this was more important than hurt feelings.

"The Dark Elves apparently gathered troops. We believe they are lead by Malekith." He did not miss his brother flinch at the name. "They appeared over Midgard this morning, but left without a trace before we could act. We don't know why they chose Midgard, but we believe they were searching for something. Something they have not found yet. You are the only one apart from father who can help us defeat them. You know Malekith, you know their powers, you know-"

The wooden chair on which Loki had sat upon only moments prior was thrown to the floor where it was smashed into a dozen pieces. Loki's breath came hard and his eyes had darkened with blazing fury. His fists collided with the glass pane between himself and Thor and he was thrown back by the magic – his magic – contained in it.

For a long time silence followed the God of Lies' outburst. Thor was at a loss for anything to say, silenced by this unusual display of anger. It used to be him carrying his feelings on a plate while Loki had been the one to always consider the consequences of actions and words. It were moments like these that showed him how little he knew about what Loki had gone through those two years before New York, the two years they had all thought him dead, had mourned the dark prince's demise. They knew now Loki hadn't died after his fall from the Bifrost, but Thor suspected that whatever had happened to him instead may have actually been worse.

Still, he could only guess.

"You see that is why we need you, Brother."

Another bang against the glass, even harsher.

Thor knew what it was for this time."You are my brother and I will never stop calling you that, Loki." He tried to smile but was met only by unmoving features. A sigh escaped his lips. "We need you. You are the only sorcerer in the whole realm, the only one who can match their powers. If you agree to help me your freedom and powers will be restored to you."

He would be free. He would leave this damned containment and be a free man once more.

"I need you...but I don't know if I can trust you." Thor tensed up, his words faltering for a moment.

And you would be a fool if you did. Loki thought.

"You don't have to die, Loki. Not like this. Not as a criminal."

Thor had used his arguments, there was nothing left he could say to the cold shell behind the glass. Long time no one moved. With every silent second that passed Thor lost more and more hope reaching out to not the wicked egomaniac, the madman, but to the brother who had always kept his back in a battle, the man who had laughed with them at times and had used his magic to build and not to destroy. He had hoped that man was still there, somewhere, hidden behind wicked smiles and bitter insults.

Then he noticed the shadows lift off Loki's face if only a little and his lips curling up coldly as he nodded his head once in acceptance.

Toronto could be ridiculously cold in winter. You couldn't breathe as soon as you stepped out of the door and once again Fara had the urge to shake Nat's shoulders until her red haired guide gained back her own piece of common sense back that she obviously had lost the moment she had invited Fara to visit her in Canada. Then again, Nat was Russian. She was accustomed to freezing temperatures.

She grabbed the piece of paper again on which in a hurried hand stood the address of Nat's hotel and studied it carefully. Then she continued looking outside to the, with ice crusted streets. The cab driver had given up on having a normal conversation with her long ago.

It wasn't far, but she still felt uneasy driving a car, despite Nat's clear instructions. Fara had always been a quick learner, easy to grasp even the most complex spells presented to her in scrolls, but driving a car proved nonetheless to be a difficult matter. Either way, if anyone should stop her she had a fake passport along with a driving licence inside her purse. Thankfully the people she had met until then were not of the sort to ask too many questions. They wouldn't have believed her anyway.

It was almost three years since she had come to Midgard. Alone and clueless, she had thanked her good fortune many times that Natasha Romanov had been the first mortal she had met. Who knows what might have happened to her otherwise. Freyja's magic had sent her to Russia, just a few miles north of St. Petersburg when Nat had been there for a job.

The female assassin had been fatally wounded in the stomach and right leg and been left alone behind the corner of a dark alley to die. No one had seen her behind two dumpsters in the middle of the night except the lost eyes of a girl in peculiar dress.

Fara knew magic was not very well known on Midgard, but she hadn't been able to just turn away and let the poor woman die.

As a consequence the Black Widow had taken her in, providing shelter, food, and eventually friendship. They had never really spoken about Fara's background or for the reason she had found herself in Russia without even knowing where she was. Nat never asked questions and neither did Fara.

And that was the reason why Fara was now in Canada, freezing her limbs off.

After another few minutes she finally saw the hotel's finely decorated front in between two tall grey buildings. The taxi stopped in front of the entrance and she paid the driver what she hoped was the right amount of money. He didn't complain and she got out of the car. Two doormen in red uniforms took care of the luggage.

Luckily Nat was already waiting for her in the lobby.

"Hey, how was the flight?" Natasha smiled.

"I came through check-in and security without problem, I guess that's good." Fara brushed a bronze shimmering strand of hair that had escaped her bun behind her ear and opened the first two buttons of her parka. "The flight itself was comfortable."

"Good." The Black Widow threw a swift glance around the tastefully designed lobby before leading her to the elevators. "We're not staying long, just tonight. Tomorrow we'll go to meet a few friends of mine outside town."

"And you are sure you want me to come with you?" Normally Fara did not get involved in her friend's business. She was no warrior and magic was of course no option in the open. She knew if anyone saw her using her powers even Natasha wouldn't be able to protect her.

"Yes, sure." A smile appeared on the assassin's full lips. Nothing else was spoken until they reached Natasha's room.

It was beautifully arranged, modern and classy - or at least what Fara was fairly sure was seen as classy by mortals. The walls were painted a warm eggshell while the furniture was held in dark brown and burgundy – a room that suited Natasha Romanov.

The door behind them was locked and Nat sat down on the couch, inviting Fara with the wave of a hand to join her. "You know who Tony Stark is, right?"

"The man who fought with you and the Avengers?" Fara had already been on Earth when the war had begun and she had taught herself how to use the television remote just so she would be able to follow the events on TV. Although she could always count on her prophecies she hadn't dared to look away from the news reports for fear of hearing of death. With Nat being thousands of miles away in New York the young woman had been left alone to calm down and keep herself from doing something she would very likely regret. Fara had hoped she wouldn't have to hear of it ever again.

"Yes exactly. He owns a house just outside town and he invited us to visit him. Well, I say out of town, it could be who knows where." Natasha said. The woman was a trained liar- a necessary requirement in her job. But Fara had experience with lies.

"So we will be staying with him?" she asked.

"It's just for a few days."

Golden eyes shot back a worried glance. "Is something wrong? Is this about what happened in Norway?"

She had seen the ships, before they had come to Earth, had seen them in her sleep – large shapeless spots in the sky, black steel shedding large shadows on the ground beneath. People had shouted upwards to the sky, cursing at the foreign vessels in hope they would leave. The ships had stayed hanging mid-air for less than twenty minutes, before they disappeared, like a hologram, into nothingness.

"Don't worry. Everything's fine." The female warrior stood up. "It's just catching up with old friends."

Her companion closed her eyes for a moment. Fara could not shake off the uneasiness that began to creep up her spine at those words, but she was just too tired to think about it now.

Whatever it was she would find out soon enough.