DISCLAIMER
I do not own anything you recognize. Unfortunately.
Flashes of magic lit up the dark sky, illuminating the battlefield in Jötunheim below. The Jötun and Asgardian armies clashed without definate sides. The screams of dying horses, Asgardians, and giants provided an eerie chorus to the gore and blood that was the battlefield. The sounds of metal on metal completed the terrifying orchestra.
Near the field of death where the battle raged, there was a deserted Jötun city. The abandoned streets and sharp peaks glowed icy blue in the faint was eerily silent, as the frost giants had long since fled the city, leaving it empty. No, not empty. The frost giants had left behind one of their own.
It was a baby. But the boy, for it was male, was not the typical offspring of a frost giant. Although it shared the same icy blue skin, red eyes and markings characteristic of all frost giants, it was the size of a human baby, a runt to the frost giants. It was a freak, a burden. In the panic and haste of the abandonment of the city, someone, perhaps its mother, had left it alone to die, seizing the opportunity to rid an uncaring family of an unwelcome burden.
The baby lay in a box, wrapped in a gray woollen blanket. The blanket was carefully embroidered with a green border by someone who perhaps had made it for a child eagerly expected, only to be disappointed. There was even a green L sewn in cursive on one corner. Perhaps, it was an afterthought, or was made for a different child. Whatever the reason, it was lost in the chaos.
The baby cried fitfully, the sounds of the battle disturbing its rest. It lay there for what seemed like eternity, until the battle ceased and the noise died away.
Then, lone footsteps broke the awful silence. Slowly, painfully, they neared the box where the baby lay. Then they stopped.
The great king of Asgard stood in the dim blue-tinted light, looking down at the baby. His face, unforgiving and weary, slowly softened. He bent to pick to pick up the child, cradling it in his arms.
Slowly, the baby's blue skin and red eyes faded as the king held him in his hands. As the king watched, the baby's skin faded to the pale color of milk, and his eyes turned emerald green.
The king marvelled at the transformation. This frost giant looked like one of his own subjects! A plan began to form in the king's mind, slowly growing and changing until it was fully formed, like the metamorphous of a caterpillar to a butterfly.
The king gazed down t the baby. Feeling something akin to pity for the child and the role it was to play, he lifted the child up.
"I name you Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard."
Skill carrying the child, the king strode boldly to the Bifrost and vanished back to asgard. Neither he nor the child, newly christened Loki, would return for many years.