To Hate: A character study in three parts.

I went to Thor not expecting it to have much depth, but they surprised me with Loki. After going I went home that night and wrote up this little drabble.

Loki-

To hate: a simple verb. Short, to the point. No indication of how it consumes a man. I have learned its power through careful lessons. The Asgard's hate for the Frost Giants, the Frost Giants hatred of Asgard, both races hatred of weakness. Through both of these races I have been carefully taught to hate myself as much as they.

I am what I am. When younger I thought to change myself. Change my darkness into Thor's golden light. But their accusing eyes always knew; Odin's younger son, Odin's weaker son, Odin's unworthy son, and eventually Odin himself could not hide what I was. Not from himself, and not from me.

They call me the Trickster, the Liar. But I have learned that some lies can never be truly hidden.

Thor-

My shadow. That's what we used to call him. Always watching, always calm. The cool shade to my brash, vulgar sun. In our younger years we were each other's best friend and confidant. Then as we grew- as I grew- I began to discard him. After all, no one pays attention to their shadow. Yes it's there, but why acknowledge it?

That day I looked deep into my shadow's eyes and found- hate. My hate. My hate for our enemies, and… the hate I had unthinkingly shown him whenever I had dismissed him as weak. I felt my father's revulsion and understood.

Always watching, always absorbing. When had my shadow soaked up this hate?

Odin-

To be a parent is to feel the deepest pain and the deepest joy. In the war I thought I had learned all there was to know of pain. At times it felt like the only thing that was real. I would wash off blood and not know whose it was. I would see comrades fall and found that later I could no longer recall their names or faces. Then, my Thor, my bright lightning came, and then I found a frighteningly blue babe and named him Loki. I learned to love again.

But I watched my quiet watcher and wondered; does he do these things because he is Loki, my Trickster? Or- he know, he knows, surely he knows? I know little of Frost Giants beyond how to fight them. If they had raised him; if he had not been small, how different would he be? Would I know him, if we fought?

I have seen hatred, I have felt it. I have seen it kill, and I have seen it destroy worlds. I, have destroyed worlds in my hate. I looked to my sons, and found Asgard's hate reflected back at me. To some there never was a peace, not within their hearts. And now I find that we have passed our war on to our children. What have we done, Asgard? What have we done to make Loki hate himself as fiercely as I once hated my enemies?

Thor saved himself, but Loki my Loki, discarded the day you were born, will you ever know peace?