Disclaimer: I do not own Loki, other Marvel charactes, and The Avengers storyline. This story is for entertainment purposes only.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Lo and behold, the new adventure begins. The following prologue sets the tone for the new story, and hints at some major plot points. This story came to be due to some big questions I had when I watched the first Thor movie back in 2011. Some things about Loki's backstory and some things that Odin said just didn't feel complete. Also when I watched Thor: The Dark World, I was hit with the strange sensation that the real reason Odin decided to keep Loki imprisoned was to protect him. He could have easily killed him, after all, he was tried as a traitor. Hmm. Through my ponderings, the story line for this last sequel came to be.
For those of you who have been with me since 'Game of Shadows' and through 'Of Madness and Mayhem', this last story is especially for you! I have taken into consideration all the things you said you wished to see Loki and Barbara do, and I have put them into the story. Victor von Doom will return as well, but he will not enter until some chapters in. We are going to a universe set completely outside of Marvel canon, to realms and places I have created. These are magical worlds filled with many big secrets, mythological creatures, new races and new people. The excitement of this story will be seeing Loki and Barbara trek through these new worlds in search for the Infinity Stones before Doom can get to them. As they travel, they will have many adventures and fight many dangers. Not to mention all this fun will make way for lots of steamy, hot sex in the wilderness! ;-)
New chapters will come every two weeks. Chapter 1 will be posted on March 23rd.
I hope you stay with me through this journey, and I hope you'll enjoy it just as much as I will writing it. I love feedback, so please don't be shy and tell me what you think in the reviews section. I reply to all reviews, and I value all input I receive! However, any negative criticism will not be accepted or tolerated.
Now, shall we begin?
Born to be a King
Prologue
The secret.
The secret had never been told, for the truth was as forbidden as it was vital. Without its shroud of mystery, the balance of the universe would be shattered. An infant had been born to the life of a prince, but an unloving and deathly temple floor had been his cradle. Birthed in the midst of a mythical war, a conflict between gods, as large in scale as the number of bodies that covered the frozen ground. Ice had been tainted red. Earth had been seeped with scarlet. The blood of gods had wet the soil of a world inhabited by mortals. Monsters had descended, armies had fought, death had reigned supreme for ages; until finally, a kingdom had fallen and a source of power was stolen.
A bastard son. An unlikely heir to one of the greatest realms in the universe. A runt. Small and fragile, gentle and beautiful, so unlike the rest of his race. Despised and deemed an abomination by a ruthless king and father who sought only to beget one who would live to be as callous as brutal as he was. But beneath the tender exterior of that infant, there was a will stronger than iron and a resilience far greater than the tallest mountain. He was as rooted to the earth as a palm tree, swaying with the winds of the tide, perfectly blended into his environment, but not even the fiercest hurricane could uproot him. His cries echoed in the temple, accompanied by others, but drowned out by the bellows of war that raged outside its massive icy doors. He cried out for help, for mercy, for a warm embrace and a loving gaze. Survival was at the core of his existence, and survival would be the force that would drive him for the rest of his days.
Help did come. Mercy opened the door to the temple where he lay discarded in a simple blanket of skin. Two strong arms held him, one pitying blue eye looked at him, and one king finally took notice of the greatness he was destined to achieve. In his arms he held not the discarded son of his defeated rival, but a future king. The Allfather watched as icy blue was replaced by warm, pink ivory and red pupils became blue-green. The infant giggled and Odin smiled in return, but then another muffled cry reached his ears and he looked up further into the temple.
Destiny had found a way and the secret had been created.
For centuries the secret was murmured, spoken of in hushed tones by the handful few who knew of it. The secret grew and blossomed, the magnificence of it astounding those who observed its progress. The Norns marveled at it, kings gazed upon it with hope.
"...And though we have fallen into man's myths and legends, it was Asgard and its warriors that brought peace to the universe"
Centuries later, two sons walked hand-in-hand with their father towards one of the greatest treasures found in the kingdom's weapons vault. A relic, a spoil of war, it was the Casket of Ancient Winters, the source of power for the people of Jotunheim. Odin dropped his sons' hands and walked towards the casket, then turned and looked at them each in the eye.
"But the day will come when one of you will have to defend that peace"
"Do the frost giants still live?" asked the younger one. The older one scoffed.
"When I am king, I'll hunt the monsters down and slay them all! Just as you did, father"
Such arrogance, such foolishness. The Allfather sighed.
"A wise king never seeks out war, but" he looked at his youngest "he must always be ready for it"
He began to walk towards the entrance. His heart was heavy. He knew the strength and weaknesses of each of his two sons, and he knew the path each would take. How were they going to fulfill their destinies after the future events his keen eye had seen? He grieved for his youngest even now, centuries before he set upon a path of hatred and malice that would take him to the very doors of Hel.
But the Norns had already foretold his outcome. The Allfather could not tamper with destiny. He could not tell him the secret, not yet. There was so much the boy had to learn. The secret needed to be protected at all costs, even at the expense of his son growing in the shadows.
"I am ready, father!" the oldest one said, catching up to Odin and taking his hand.
"So am I!" the youngest contributed, doing the same.
Odin smiled.
"Only one of you can ascend to the throne, but both of you were born to be kings..."
The secret had been protected. The centuries rolled on.
Odin looked helplessly into the teary eyes of his youngest son. There it was, the plain and brutal truth before his eyes to see. He watched his youngest son's face contort in a grimace of pain and utter anguish.
"TELL ME!"
"I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day. Bring about an alliance; bring about a permanent peace, through you. But those plans no longer matter..."
"So I am no more than another stolen relic. Locked up here until you might have use of me?"
"Why do you twist my words?" The Allfather implored, feeling his old and fragile heart twist into a thousand knots. His strength was fading. He needed to tell him. His son needed to know that the truth he had kept hidden from him wasn't as dark and ugly as he made it seem. There was so much more he needed to know. He felt his body crumble...
"You could have told me what I was from the beginning. Why didn't you?!"
"You're my son. I wanted only to protect you from the truth..."
"Why? Because I am the monster who parents tell their children about at night?"
No. No, that wasn't why. The Allfather wished to speak, to finally tell him everything. His son knew only half of the truth. The secret was vulnerable. It was in grave danger. His son was altering the events that would bring him face to face with the grand reality of his existence. Odin collapsed. There was nothing more he could do. He couldn't tell him. His son had tampered with destiny. It was now up to him to rectify the straight path he was winding.
"Why it all makes sense now! Why you favored Thor all these years, because no matter how much you claim to love me, you could never have a frost giant sitting on the throne of Asgard!"
The secret had almost been destroyed.
"No"
Odin whispered helplessly as he watched his youngest son falling through the vortex. It had all been for nothing. He grieved a son and dreaded the future. With his death came the loss of the only one capable of one day bringing balance to a fragile universe. In his mind, Odin replayed every scene of his short life, from the moment he had laid eyes on him and realized the future predestined for the crying infant to the moment he had let go of the spear of kingship he had so desired.
The Allfather was burdened by guilt. He had done it all wrong. A visit to a faraway realm had only served to encrust that guilt deep within his soul. He had set his son upon the very path he had tried desperately to keep him away from. In his own quest for the rightful heir to his own kingdom, he had forgotten to see the bigger picture and had neglected the great duty the Fates had bestowed upon him. He had been entrusted with the responsibility of raising an heir to Asgard's throne, yes, but he was also in charge of raising one who would one day become a great ruler: A king of nations, a restorer of worlds, a scourge to the wicked races who sought only to plunge the universe into darkness. He had lost the savior of the Nine Realms.
The secret had been lost.
Strength and honor were replaced by hatred and malice. Mischief gave way to madness. Hope succumbed to darkness. The ice of his true nature covered his fragile heart and locked it away, hardening the very gentle muscle that had plunged him into the deepest depth of despair. Survival became ambition, courage became ruthlessness. Benevolence gave way to tyranny. He who had been destined to defend the peace of the universe now threatened to plunge it into chaos.
A foreign, human world would bear the burden of his wrath, the same realm that brought about the war that opened the doors to his survival. He had failed in his quest for kingship, and as a result, his very life was at stake. Those who had promised him a throne in exchange for greater power would now come for his blood. In a hopeless bid to salvage what was left, destiny had brought him back to the same realm who had embraced him, to the same people who had raised him. The prodigal son returned home... in chains.
The secret had been buried.
He was now carried by the current of time that carved his way through stone and shattered the ambitions of the young fallen king. Life had broken him, all in the hopes of seeing him rise to the heights reserved for him, the thrones that awaited his command. Cruel fate was now his teacher. It was molding him, not by the loving yet rigid hand of a father, but by the harsh reality of life. He was bruised and battered, yet in the beaten, distorted workings of his being still burned the ambers of a flame that would once again burn bright.
The Allfather allowed himself to hope, even as he dictated a strict and merciless sentence. Seclusion and imprisonment was the only way he could protect him, to keep him safe from himself. He would bear the weight of his son's hatred, he would take his venom. He could. He deserved them. He would take the secret to his grave, and he did.
In the great hallowed halls of Valhalla now, the Allfather watched as more events unfolded and his youngest son continued upon his crooked path, but there was now something different about him. He was driven now by a desire for excellence, perhaps inspired by the small mortal figure he kept close. He was king. King of Asgard. Crowned and with a queen by his side. He had tampered with destiny further even as he tampered with the young woman's mortality.
Wars raged again. His youngest son sought to bring all great kingdoms in the Nine Realms under his command. Asgard was not enough for him, but that was expected. He had been destined to rule many kingdoms, not just one. Through his desire to reach unchallenged rule, he had fallen again. He had begotten a son, but once again destiny had taken the reigns from him forcefully and cast out the woman back to the realm of her birth, the child within her doomed to be born outside of the realm he had been intended to inherit, thus securing the way for Asgard's rightful king.
Then, a reunion and another quest to reclaim that which he thought to be rightfully his. New threats emerged above the looming danger of old enemies, and once again blood wet the earth. Civil war raged in Asgard, old enemies were destroyed, both his son and his queen were extracted from the grip of death, and fate showed mercy. Why should the innocent pay for the sins of the guilty?
The secret had been found again.
Faint glimmers of worlds unknown passed before the eyes of the gatekeeper. A small window had opened and the greatest realm in the universe became aware of distant and mysterious worlds just outside the branches of Ygdrassil. These were kingdoms kept shrouded from view for the mysteries they contained, great powers locked within them to prevent them from falling in the hands of those who sought to destroy all that was good. It was in one of these worlds, a realm whose grandeur and might rivaled that of Asgard where the secret lay waiting, kept hidden for a millennium. It was now time for Loki Laufeyson to come face to face with his destiny.
The Allfather had never lied.
The secret had simply been too great and too imperative to be spoken.
"Only one of you can ascend to the throne, but both of you were born to be kings..."
End of Prologe.