Author's Note: Hi everyone! Sorry I haven't updated this in a while. I've gone through and revised the first 3 chapters once I got a better feel for my main character. I'm pretty busy with school and work so I may not get to post as often as I'd like, but I'll do my best to not leave you all hanging from chapter to chapter! Thanks for your patience and I'm glad you enjoyed what I've shared so far.

Chapter 1

It is better to have a lion at the head of an army of sheep, than a sheep at the head of an army of lions. – Daniel Defoe

Loki walked down the long, towering halls of the castle, his footsteps echoing up the high walls of stone and sparkling glass to resonate in the domed ceilings above. He wore his glamour, as always, with a mixed sense of pleasure and disdain. His situation wasn't ideal. Yes, he had wanted the Asgardian throne ever since he first sat on it during Thor's exile, but he had always imagined himself ruling as, well, himself; not masquerading as Odin. However, his disguise was necessary, least of which was due to the timely disappearance of the real king and his current reputation with Asgardians, and more importantly the fact that the Chitauri were to think him dead.

When he had lost the scepter on Midgard and the tesseract to Thor, he knew that they would come for him. They had made it clear that if he did not return the scepter, that they would hunt him to the edges of the universe and torment him. Indefinitely. Being locked in Odin's dungeons had added even further insult to injury; even though the Avengers dealt a mighty blow to the Chitauri, they had not destroyed them entirely. It would take them time to regain their strength and unfortunately for Loki, Asgardians (and frost giants) have a particularly long life-span. It would only be a matter of time before they came for him. Being locked in his father's dungeon was equivalent to being served up on a silver platter. He had no doubt in his mind that if Odin was given the choice of delivering Loki to the Chitauri or going to war with them, that Loki would be delivered in shackles, complete with a gift bow tied to his neck. Loki had no intention of waiting for them to make good on their threat, even if it took them a thousand years to do so.

As such, his first and most important mission was to find the tesseract, which appeared to be easier said than done. Months had passed since the dark elves were defeated, and still he had not found the cube. The first place he had checked was Odin's vault, complete with various other relics. However, upon great inspection, the cube was nowhere to be found. It was clear that Odin must have hidden it as soon as he learned of Loki's escape with Thor. This put Loki in a bit of a bind. He had already handed over the Aether to The Collector, at the recommendation of the Asgardian council. They were worried, rightly so, that having so much power in one place would prove troublesome for Asgard. He was loath to give up an alternative bargaining tool if the tesseract could not be found, but had to play along so as to not draw suspicion to himself.

So, his hunt continued with no success. Being a king put a damper on his free time, to say the least. There were many responsibilities he had to attend to, which he would have enjoyed more were he not obligated to return a particularly important artifact. Still, he wasted no time in stretching his hands at ruling the moment he was on Odin's throne. He had already had the majority of the castle repaired, and what was left of Asgardian nobility returned, along with a new mass of castle servants to tend to the keep. He had sent out parties to retrieve many of the escaped prisoners, even sending Sif to retrieve her arch enemy Lorelei, which he was sure she had enjoyed.

It burned him to do kindness for those who had turned their backs on him, but he had no choice. For now. Perhaps over time he could begin to gather his own followers, after careful observation and selection. But at the moment, Loki had no friends in Asgard, which made his rule and his secret hunt for the tesseract that much more challenging. He couldn't inquire about the cube without drawing suspicion – It was highly confidential information, and Odin would have obviously known where the cube was located. To inquire of its whereabouts would be just as effective as him removing his glamour.

To make matters worse, his responsibilities meant that he didn't have the time to use his skills to spy on others for information. At the very least, he was sure Thor's friends might be in on its whereabouts, there was no way to get close to them and still play Odin at the same time. As talented as he was, he couldn't be in two places at once. Actually, he could. He chuckled inwardly to himself. But that little parlor trick would do him no good here. Visual doubles didn't report information. He tried to watch them as often as he could, using his abilities Frigga had taught him, casting a visualization of their interactions within the privacy of the king's suite. But so far his efforts have proved fruitless. Either Thor's friends knew nothing, or they were better at keeping high security secrets than he had originally suspected. His inability to devote the majority of his time to his spying habits didn't help either.

What he could really use was a person on the inside, someone who could infiltrate Thor's friends and gain their trust. But that required an ally, which Loki had none. He was a one-man show.

He looked upon Asgard with dark eyes. For most of his life, this was his home. He had loved Asgard once. Perhaps there was still a part of him that did, if he had any ability to love left. More breathtaking than anywhere on Midgard, and more alive and bright than Jotunheim. The shining city held countless memories for him, most of them fond. However, that fondness had been replaced by bitterness and lies when he found out his true heritage. When that happened, it was as if Asgard had lost all its color. Everything he thought was true turned out to be a lie, including all of his memories of family, love, unity, purpose. Everything became black and white; dead to him. He doubted he would ever see it so radiantly ever again.

Still, he finally had what he wanted… the throne. And from a place so high, he could transform Asgard into his own, molding it over the years so intricately into his design that any traces of his former life would be but a memory, left to be forgotten. Perhaps then it would shine with the brightness that he missed. Only then would he awake Odin from the stasis he had trapped him in and show him his good work. "Look at what I have created." He would say to him. "I am the rightful king."

Then what? Would he kill him? A part of Loki wanted to. He wanted to break the man who broke him, put him to his knees. He would show Odin what it felt like to be a pawn in someone else's game. After all, that's all Loki was to him. A tool to be used when the time was right, a time which never came. Only then would he possibly kill him. The idea was sweet on his tongue, his chest burning with hot rage and vengeful anticipation. It seemed fitting that Odin would be destroyed by the lies that he himself had created. Loki may be a monster, but Odin helped make him that way.

However, the other part, the part that stirred deep beneath him, locked away in a cage within himself, was the young boy who grew up idolizing him, loving him. With each betrayal he concocted, with each lie he wrought and each life he took, that small voice grew fainter. Loki loathed that the naïve boy was still inside him somewhere. He needed more time, to make sure that when the opportunity presented itself, he would truly be ready.

"All in good time." Loki whispered to himself. He would have plenty of time before he had to make that choice. Perhaps with enough time he could snuff out whatever love was left in his heart. Then he could do what needed to be done.

With his mind back to the present, he continued walking through the hall. He was once again Odin, taking on his stride, squaring his shoulders, chin held high with just the slightest hint that he was trying to hide his increasing frailty. There were a few servants roaming the hall with him. Some were polishing the armor sitting in the nooks until they gleamed. Others were cleaning the windows, their fractals sending rainbows of bright color across the floor. Still others were cleaning the floors until they reflected the intricately gilded ceilings above.

He walked with the presence of a king, neither overtly acknowledging or ignoring those around him. His very presence seemed to envelop those around him, causing heads to turn.

He was almost through the end of the hall, when one girl caught his keen eye. Loki missed nothing when it came to his environment, a skill he had developed growing up next to Thor. Thor was loud, brash, reckless. Loki was the opposite… reserved, calculating, observing. It was the only space he had to grow into, and he had mastered it.

Any other individual would have passed her by without a thought. At a glance, she was completely inconspicuous. She worked diligently, and yet there was something off about her and the way she carried herself. It was subtle, but he could tell from her posture that she didn't want to be noticed. She was trying too hard to blend in, and in doing so stood out. His suspicion was confirmed when she stole a furtive glance at him and quickly turned away, clearly bewildered by their eye contact. It was so very different from every other servant who looked at him directly, a sign of respect in the proud Asgardian culture. She didn't just seem shy… she had the behaviors of someone who didn't want to be seen, like she wanted to fall through a hole in the floor and escape him. She seemed terrified. Now why would a servant be terrified of Odin?

"You, girl. What is your name?" he inquired in his kingly voice. She was hardly a girl; very obviously a woman, old enough to marry, her figure evident in her simple servant's robes. But to old men, all of the youthful looked like children to them, and Loki had to play his part.

She jumped at his voice, and looked him straight in the eyes for the first time. Her eyes were blue with flecks of silver, a strange combination that he had never seen before, and sure enough the fear was front and center. But more than that, he noticed her eyes were unfocused and confused. His blood ran cold. It brought back an old memory of when he was first learning to use his glamour with Frigga. She had the same look in her eyes when his glamour was failing.

'Try harder, Loki. You must put all your energy into it for the glamour to hold. I can still see parts of you.' Frigga had told him.

Loki glanced around to see if anyone else detected that the king was looking a little… off. But no one noticed, which meant his illusion held. They were continuing their duties, while pretending not to eavesdrop on the exchange that was currently happening right in front of them. This meant there was something particular about this girl. This one random, pointless girl.

He looked back at her, and her eyes seemed to focus for a moment before going glassy again. The young girl's jaw hung open, and she looked like a fish out of water, words stuck in her throat. Before she could respond, another young girl came over to him, her freckled cheeks red with embarrassment.

"My apologies my king. This girl doesn't speak. She is mute." she explained, with a small dip of a curtsey.

"Mute?" he replied. 'Yeah, sure she is…' he thought skeptically. "For what reason would we staff a mute servant in the house of Odin? How is she supposed to address nobility when they give her orders?"

"I-I'm not sure, my king. She started after the dark elves attack. She does work hard though, my liege, and keeps to herself. Hilde usually only has her work in the lesser halls, helping with the wash and such, but we were short staffed today." The freckled servant was wringing her hands nervously in her apron.

He paused for a moment. "Does she have a name?" His eyes never left the silent girl as he addressed her savior.

"Aye, sir. Her name is Amelia."

Loki nodded. "Well, then. Amelia. I merely meant to compliment you on your work. Carry on." He turned back to the freckled girl. "If she is going to be working the upper levels, then inform Hilde to train her on the mannerisms expected of a high class servant. There is no place for common behavior here."

The freckled girl got the point, and elbowed Amelia to get her to look him square in the eyes as the freckled girl did. Once he was sure he held Amelia's gaze, he gave a curt nod of approval and continued walking, leaving the two servants alone in the corridor.

He walked briskly, a dark cloud in his mind. At first he couldn't figure out why she would be afraid of him. Now, he was absolutely certain what it was.

Somehow, she could see him.