Thanks for reading "Three Days Until Dawn" and for continuing the story here. Welcome to Part 2: "The Darkest Hours."

As always, reviews are appreciated and for those who followed the story here: thank you! I hope you like it… :-)

Loki

I sat on Odin's throne, the perfect duplicate of the old man, and watched my brother walk away from me. He was halfway down the great hall and well out of earshot when I dropped my facade. "No. Thank you."

He couldn't hear me, and I held back a mirthful grin, but only barely.

Finally. My birthright was mine. And Thor's sense of duty had made it all too easy.

The first few weeks passed quickly, with the usual rightful duties of a king. Every morning, hour after tedious hour, I sat on my throne dispensing peasant justice through formal court sessions. At first it was a joy to use my wit for once, and I found I had quite the knack for discerning the truth within the most difficult cases. Some who came to me, particular the nobility, were aghast at the severity of my rulings, but justice had been lax on Asgard for far, far too long.

But after a while the annoyance at having to continue this ridiculous facade was beginning to wear on me. Odin's aging features weren't nearly as attractive as my own handsome face, and one morning, I'd simply had enough.

I'd just finished assisting a widow in reclaiming her farmland from a landlord tyrant (I decided to have the landlord flayed in the center of town because, why not?), when yet another sheep herder came forward, complaining about how a nobleman named Fradul was restricting his tenant rights.

"Your majesty, I must have the right to pass through Fradul's most fertile land." The herder whined like an insolent child. "Sheep aren't like goats. They cannot climb the rocky terrain to go around his boundaries. And his land borders on my master's."

"Is your master here?"

The herder shook his head.

I made a note to seek out this herder's "master" and fling the whip at him myself. Honestly, it's times like this that I almost missed the Chitauri.

"And what does Fradul have to say about this?" I said without bothering to keep the boredom from my voice.

Fradul stepped out from the shadows, draped almost exclusively in golden attire. "Oh, Great and Powerful Odin…"

"Stop." I stood abruptly, and the every person in the throne room took a step back. I could smell their trepidation, and I smiled my first genuine smile in weeks. "Why do you call me 'great' when it is obvious you have no respect for my authority?"

Fradul gaped, opening and closing his obese lips like a dying fish.

I turned to the sheep herder. "From now on, you will herd goats. Your sheep are now the property of the Asgardian throne."

The herder's eyes widened with incredulity. "But—"

I held up a hand to silence his incessant mewling, and I did it so quickly I almost sent a blast of dark magic straight through his heart. Wouldn't that have silenced the masses?

Fradul the Noble smirked over at his lesser, which just infuriated me all the more. I turned to the bovine patrician, and the look I gave from "Odin's" one eye could have burnt a hole through Fradul's soul. He swallowed the lump in his throat and kowtowed right at the base of the steps leading to my throne.

That broadened my smile.

"As for you Fradul," I said. "You will pick the choicest lamb from the herder's flock, cook it up for him, and serve it to him and his family. If you do not, you will hang on the morrow."

Those lips began moving again. I could have turned him into a trout right there, but he cowered and scurried out with the herder.

Another lesser stepped up to demand justice, but I walked right past him. If I didn't leave the throne room at once, my facade would drop, and there would be peasant blood gushing down Asgard's precious gold stone halls.

I strode to the second floor, far from the broad expanse of fools who would probably wait in my throne room until they rotted away from ennui. As I came to the top of the stairs, Sif passed me. Her warrior armor, so out of place on a woman, gleamed in the sunlight. She caught my eye and bowed low.

I grinned back at her, feeling a deep sense of personal satisfaction and wondering how far I dare use my influence to bend her to my will. No, I decided. Sif wasn't worth the effort it would take to even get disrobed if I was so inclined. Perhaps I'd wed her to Thor.

I strolled to the lip of the balcony and looked out onto the courtyard. Young Asgardian warriors practiced sword fighting below, their nimble feet dancing across the stones. I'm not sure how long I stood there, looking out at this peculiar facet of my kingdom, but suddenly Thor's blustering footsteps came toward me, waking me from my pleasant daydreams of absolute power.

It took self-control not to turn before he approached. I hated having my back to a possible adversary, but Odin would have no such compulsions.

Thor moved to stand next to me. He waited for several long moments before he spoke. "You cannot deny Loki's death forever."

"No, I cannot." I surpassed a laugh as I turned to look at the one I'd called brother for all those years. Once again, I'd overestimated his intellect. He was talking about the "Loki" who had died, in reality a simple guard from Odin's court who'd had the misfortune of stumbling upon me as I healed on the dark rocks of Svartalfheim.

"Will there be a funeral?" Thor asked softly.

"No. Why should there be?" I stared at Thor through Odin's one eye and watched my brother grow angrier.

"He saved my life, and the life of the woman I love."

"That he did, but not for your sake, I'm afraid. He did it for vengeance, for Frigga. Not for you, and certainly not for love."

"Did you believe him incapable of love?"

Thor's question gave me pause, and it was an effort to hold back my emotions. "Incapable? No. He loved his mother."

"He loved a human woman as well. Someone on Earth."

What?

I turned to stare at my brother with true incredulity, no farce needed. "And who might that be?"

"Her name is Cecelia Jinn. She's an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., or at least she was before Loki's interference. I know not if she is still in their employ."

Did Thor honestly believe I cared for that witless girl? For the first time in my long life, words failed me.

He must have mistook my silence for Odin's thoughtful introspection because when I finally weighed out how to answer him, Thor was gone.

I stared back out at the young men brandishing swords in mock combat. I had once stood on those bright stones alongside my brother. I had never taken to swordplay the way he had, and when we were young, he mocked me for clinging to our mother. But Frigga was dead now, and nothing could replace the hole she'd left behind. Not even Odin's throne, though sitting on that glorious chair certainly helped.

Odin's ravens cawed at me from their perch on the upper balcony. I'd forgotten about those infernal birds. Muninn and Huginn. Memory and Thought. When I was growing up as the forgotten son, I had despised their spying beady eyes, always watching my every step. But now as "Odin," perhaps they could be useful.

I held up an arm for one of them to come and perch.

Neither did.

I glared at them, and they gazed at me with identical looks of accusation.

"Where are the rest of the rune stones?" I hissed. "Surely, one of you foul creatures must know?" Thor was gone, and there was no one in the near vicinity to hear my question.

We're watching you.

I'm not sure which bird spoke. I gave them both a crude gesture I'd learned from my time on Earth and pivoted to stroll back into the throne room.

I'd spent far too many lonely and silent hours on that throne, thinking about my next conquest. Surely if three runes had been located from the feeble attempts of humans, I could find the other twenty-one. Once I had them in my possession, I would be able to vanquish Midgard while hardly lifting a finger. Unlike using the uncontrollable power of the Tesseract, rune stone markings were pure Asgardian magic.

You will never get those stones, my son.

Odin.

I sneered as Odin's heed filtered through to me. It looked as if I would have to strengthen the enchantments on his prison. Shut up, Old Man. Your time is done.

Inside Odin's mind, I could hear him chuckle. We'll see.