Prologue.

The air sizzled and cracked as lightning split the sky. Thor stood on a beach, he knew not more than that of his whereabouts. His face crusted with salt as he wept and emptied his lungs in cries that reached no ears but his before the wind whipped them out to sea. The gaping hole where the loss of his brother had lain had but little filled since he learned of his survival. If indeed survival was a word one could use for the situation Loki had been in. Jane had told Thor of the Midgardian Christian theory of hell, and that sounded more akin to what his brother had experienced. To die, and then see something as sweet as one's daughter. To be wrenched back to a place where you are tortured incessantly for ones apparent misdemeanours. Yes, that would describe it. And where was he? He who had promised to always be there for Loki, to always come for him? He was on Midgard, playing at love with the beautiful mortal Jane Foster. Sitting idle while his brother was burned and destroyed form the inside to his very bones, his very mind invaded and his identity mined for pain. He screamed once more into the ocean before him.

A thousand possibilities flew through Thor's head. What if Hel's powerful spell hadn't worked? What if Thanos had captured Sif as well? What if pursuit had found Sif along the way? And how could he have not known? Thor had always felt so sure of his closeness to Loki, the moon to his sun, the ice to his fire. He groaned at the last thought. Ice... The fact that he had turned out not to be a son of Odin at all had mattered not to Thor in the end, they had too much love, too much history for that. But he had believed so much in his own love that he had never seen how his brother had suffered. Darcy's hastily and scathingly told tale had kept him awake at night, repeating over and over in his head. The girl hadn't meant to cause him pain, but the story had had its desired effect: it woke Thor up to his own blindness. Hel had further opened his eyes. Thor, so sure in everyone's love for him, had never stopped to think about the effect that had on his brother. Not thinking of the damage that happened when one spent too much time in the sun.

A large wave broke on the rock he was standing on, soaking him through and bringing him out of his gloomy self thoughts. Even now, Thor thought of his own feelings instead of Loki's needs. His niece was right, he needed to think of the future. Not only for his brother, but for all in the Nine Realms. He needed a plan, something to do. He would visit his father, and then his niece. He would take himself away from Loki and give him space, and hopefully lay the ground for their success in the future.

...

Helen Lokisdottr, Mistress of Souls stood on the black cliffs of Helheim, looking over the great salty lake of her realm. The weather had been cooling of late, something the Jotann in her was grateful for. Her skirts and cloak moved around her in the salty wind, and she rather enjoyed the drama of it all as she contemplated the future of the realms. Her Uncle, she knew, had been visiting his father in the Realm Eternal. They had discussed at length tales of Loki's misfortunes and mistakes but also his victories. They discussed Thanos and the probability of attacks on their realms vs. the others. They discussed the probability of Loki's betrayal. Or, in Odin's opinion, the inevitability. Her lip curled in distaste at Odin's blind prejudice. She honestly had no idea how her father had survived Odin's awful fostering. Sure, he was maybe a little mad after all of the messes of his life, but one could hardly blame him for that. Everything he had been lead to believe had been exactly the opposite of the truth. Instead of training Loki to use his difference as a strength, he was taught to revere everything he wasn't, and to despise everything that he was- including his heritage. Odin couldn't have done a better job at ruining someone with the mental prowess of her father if he had tried. It was almost as if he meant to do just that, as much as he kept insisting the opposite. Perhaps the abuse was subconscious, due to his own insecurities about his own Jotann heritage. Perhaps Odin was scared because as Loki had grown Odin had seen more and more of himself in his Jotann changeling. Attributes that Odin had pridefully declared strengths of Asgard were, in fact beautiful inheritances from his own mother, herself half frost giantess. Proof of Odin's mixed parentage, laid out for all with the right knowledge. As the lost prince of Jottenheim grew, so did the fractures in the foundations of Odin's pure hatred of Laufey and his kind, making them and him unstable. These savages were not savages at all but cunning, startlingly creative and powerful beings, and kin to himself. He had been given a gift, in Loki, and Asgard could have thrived with it. Oh, but his internalised racism won out and took away any chance for either Odin or Loki.

Hel sighed at the thought of how beautiful it could have been. Loki was clearly Frigga's favourite child, she who saw far farther than any around her. What would have happened if Odin had embraced him as his favourite also? The possibilities stretched out, with Thor and Sif as Loki's support, the kingdom could have been incredible. Hel bared her teeth and pulled her eyes away from the horizon before her. She had no time for daydreaming, things had not gone that way and they must play with the hand they'd been dealt. She felt a tingling in her perception and frowned, her Uncle had decided to pay her a visit.

She turned into her office, losing her coat as she moved, then ringing the bell and asking for coffee for two once she was there. Shortly thereafter Thor strolled through her office door as only Thor could. If she had not seen the two weeks of weeping and crying into the wind her uncle had partaken in recently, she would never have believed it. Asgard had always had that effect on Thor, while it had always drained Loki of his vitality and goodness it fed Thor's. It was strange, how opposite the two could be. She turned her head to the side, inspecting the Golden Prince. Maybe it had to do with their magic. She'd been studying magic lately, and the Jotanns had a very different type of magic to that of Asgard or Muspelheim. She could feel the fire glow and spark within her even as she felt the ice receding. She filed that information away for later and gave Thor an insincere smile. "Uncle, have a seat. Do forgive me for I have much work to do." She shuffled some papers for effect. A very interesting report from one of her spies on Knowhere that she had been reading before she left to get some air. "Tell me, what brings you back to my humble realm?"

Thor sat heavily, deflating a little at her question. "I have come to you to seek advice."

Hel's mouth turned upwards in a smile of true delight. Well. This was a lovely surprise.