"I didn't do it for him. " He told Thor, his jaded eyes fixing on him. He wanted Thor to understand, to know the truth that It was for their mother, his mother, Frigga. "No!" Thor cried as his brother closed his eyes. This time willingly gave up his soul to where it always belonged... darkness.

Part I: Crawling Shadow

It was cold. Not the delicate coldness that he always felt gracious in and not that kind of coldness, so peaceful when it was snowing in his homeland.

Homeland. The word seemed both funny and distasteful at the same time in his mouth. Or it might have been because of the curdled blood in his throat. The frigid, frozen blood that he had thought Jotuns never even had in their veins. Jotun: funny, back in the old day the word seemed so far away from him; so dreadful.

It was the time when he opened the door to his chambers at night, tiptoeing slowly into his room and looking around warily. Yes, it was so long ago… but the memories were still fresh at the back of his mind. He tried to use the spell his mother taught him. The spell of how to create a lighting ball in a dark place... So he wouldn't have to deal with the crawling shadows, lurking in the dark corners of his chamber. The light would scare them away, as his mother put it.

And then he remembered. He moved the glowing light green magical ball around the corners, searching for the monsters. When he found nothing, he let out a sigh of relief. He was safe now… for tonight. Then he ran to his bed, using his warm blanket to cover his always-frozen body, and he tried to sleep. Then something struck him. He had forgotten to look under the bed. What if the monster was lying under the bed, waiting for him to sleep and then jump at him? What if there was a huge Jotun under his bed…? And the stress of being attack by a monster made him forget how to create a glowing ball, and so he had to be silent and still the entire night, fearing to go to sleep because maybe the Jotun would come and kidnap him, taking him to the lands of ice. Where there's no light glowing and there's no sun shining to warm him. And he'll be frozen to death there.

He remembered, always these thoughts were haunting him at night. The thought of the monsters, the demons to come at him, and he wouldn't be powerful enough to fight them. But eventually sleep rubbed his eyes, and it was then when the nightmares came. And the nightmares were the unpleasant thoughts becoming his… reality.

But now… he grew to understand the glowing magical ball couldn't make the monsters go away. And even if it could, it would eradicate himself as well. Jotuns… monsters… nothing scared him now. Perhaps it didn't make any sense now. He always was one of them. One of the filthy creatures his fathe…no… Odin always said will die at the hand of a hero in the end. They will be cast out to cold rocks, choking on their blood and laughing maniacally. But then again… even when he was only a child, he thought, why in the Helheim do monsters laugh when they are defeated? Is it not because they think, they are replaceable, or do they simply laugh at their own fate, approving the Norns for the fine branches they have braided for them?

He smirked. With his eyes closed and his hands still clinging to the deep wound on his chest, the smirk widened into a grin. And then the grin turned to a laugh; loud maniacal laughter. It was painful, like a huge fire, burning inside his chest as his laughter turned to harsh coughs and choking blood. But it didn't stop him… he laughed and laughed until the laughs turned to tears, Tears that didn't escape his eyes.

Maybe he didn't have the power to let out his pain. Maybe he was afraid to confess how much he hated himself… For being a monster, for being unwanted, for being the cause of his mother's death… but he didn't cry like he should. He just… couldn't. He wasn't powerful enough for that. So he croaked his sorrow once again with a twisted smile. It was his fault he had started a fight he couldn't win.

Though in the end, he did one thing right. He got his revenge. He killed the monster who took the life of the only woman whose love he prized. And even if it meant nothing for her now, he felt revived for that.

"I didn't do it for him."

No, he didn't lie. It wasn't for Odin. The hatred for Odin inside his veins never surged out this easy. Even death couldn't wash away the pain that man caused him. And of course, he was never one for forgiveness. Loki couldn't even forgive himself, let alone the one who he was always trying to satisfy.

The pain inside his chest was getting numb. He knew what it meant. His time was over. What an adventure … what a pitiful life. As much as he hated it, He knew he'd never get the chance to undo what was already done. And although he claimed to be the god of tricks, he knew he could never trick… death.

So maybe now… now was the time to give up. Give his petty life to the cold hands of death. Colder than he already is… colder than he always was. Maybe in another world, he could be at peace. But no… who was he deceiving? A man like him, rest in peace? How could that even be possible… he was going to Hel… where his promised monsters were, waiting for him to join them so they could shatter his soul to pieces for the crimes he had done and the sins he had committed.

"Unwanted son of Odin… bastard son of Laufey… may your soul rot in Hel… Forever… "

The words leaving his dead lips seemed to slowly disappear into the thin air when he breathed his last.

"Oh… Svartalfheim, how I have missed you… "

A feminine voice echoed in the dark mountains, making the last word repeat a few times.

"Are you still haunting the dreams?"

The owner of the voice continued as her dark shape started to walk down the gray dead hills. A woman with long hair, black as midnight, and a tight leather suit of the same color jumped on the hard soil. Her narrowed brown eyes shifted around the hills. She was searching for something.

"Now… Where can I find him?" She muttered as she pushed her hand through her hair, which was dancing with the light wind blowing.

She started to walk slowly to the middle of the bare ground. It was nothing. All she could see was bare gray hills and eternal darkness. This place hasn't changed a bit, she thought.

So she put her hands to the side of her mouth, inhaled as deeply as she could, and shouted loudly. "Mare! Where in the Hel are you?" The only response was her own voice's reflection. "That bastard lied once again…" She trailed off when she saw something, between the splintered cliffs. "HA! I found you!" She walked faster and slowly started to break into a sprint towards the cliffs. "You little disgusting creature! You think you can deceive…?"She stopped, narrowing her eyes. "What… is… that…?" When she saw the body on the ground, she went to where she spotted it.

She bent and looked closely at the man's face. He looked incredibly pale and… in a way… blue. The woman looked around warily. No one was there. She looked back at the man.

"Oh, damn… what are you doing here?" Cautiously, she knelt next to him while drawing her hand to touch the man's chest to see if it was still beating, but she immediately stopped half way.

She pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear and then touched the man's pocket, checking if he was carrying any lethal weapon. She only found a dagger. She looked at its tip, which was glowing with sharpness. And then her eyes flicked to the man's face once again.

"What a frost giant is doing in this desert is beyond my curiosity…" She smirked. "Maybe he's dead…" She went off and slowly leaned against the body, putting the spike of the dagger near his neck in case he got up and tried to attack her.

Her face was just a mere inch away from his. "He's not breathing…" She started to lean back, but then she paused and stared at the man's face as a light smirk appeared on her lips. "How could a frost giant be this small?" She drew her hands up, and with the back of her hand, she touched his cheek. "So cold… such a waste to die in this dirt… "Her eyes glittered for the last time before she started to get up from the body. But when she felt a wave of cold air coming from the man, she flinched.

She glanced at the man. Maybe it was only her imagination… she had work to do. It wasn't the time to play around… but then again… if she was wrong and the mysterious man still lived… oh… she could never leave a poor soul behind like this. So she leaned closer again and gazed at his purplish lips.

"It seems like you're tricking me…" A second before, she was sure he wasn't breathing. But the cold air wasn't from the wind either. "Do you live or… not…" She whispered. "Shall we test that? "She leaned closer and brushed her lips against his. It only took her a few seconds.

No reaction. But she wasn't looking for any reaction. Just a slow cold breath escaped his lips and she was sure he was still alive. Something between a smile and a smirk appeared on her face as her eyes started to shine in joy. She looked down at the man's body. An open ugly wound was exposed on his chest… but it wasn't bleeding. The blood around his leather armor was rather coagulated.

"Hmm… interesting…" She wet her lips as she looked up at the solemnly non colored sky. "Thank you, Mare… it was incredibly kind of you to leave such a gift behind for me…" She held up her finger and creased her brow into a frown" Still it doesn't count for that Thing you owe me, dwarf!" She spat before looking at the man again. "The gods were so kind to you as well, my lord… you're not going to Hel… not today," she said wryly as she started to pull the man to safety.

Author's note: Hey everyone, so this was an idea that happened to me when I was watching Thor:The Dark World for like fifteenth times and I just couldn't help it but to write and see where my mind will lead me throughout the whole idea.

Thanks to my dear friend and Beta-reader LoquaciousQuibbler.

Comments and Reviews are appreciated as always. Follow,Favorite and tell me what you think of it I will update this story as soon as I can ;)