"There's a shadow just behind me

Shrouding every step I take

Making every promise empty

Pointing every finger at me."

-Tool, Sober

Prologue

Life was never easy.

That was a lesson that he'd learned early on, when he had been a youngling who didn't fit in with any of his fellow Aesir gods. He had always been an outsider; he didn't truly belong in Asgard, nor Jotunheim where he had originally come from, or even in Midgard where he and his kind were usually worshipped.

It's easy to feel lonely when you're friendless. It's easy to wish you had never been born.

His inner turmoil was hidden by a mask of indifference and sometimes cruelty. He found himself loathing many of his fellow gods, particularly the ones who seemed to live in blissful ignorance of the world.

He was their bane. He was their enemy.

He was Loki.

Chapter 1: The Beginning

Loki was sitting in his room, reading a scroll of Homer's Iliad and snorting at the words every few seconds. He had once heard Odin mention how inaccurate writers' accounts of the gods of the world were, and Homer was a perfect example.

There was a knock on the door, and before Loki could yell for the person to go away, Odin entered. Loki brushed his curtain of hair – black and straight today – out of his face and looked up in annoyance. "What do you want?"

Odin, used to his blood brother's antics, didn't bother to rebuke him. Even if he had, it wouldn't do any good. "I wanted to speak to you about Baldur," he said tersely.

Loki snorted even more derisively than he had at Homer. "What about him?"

"You need to stop provoking him. It's getting out of hand."

"What are you talking about? Pretty-boy and I are best friends. We hang out, we do each other's hair and makeup…"

"Stop it!" Odin snapped. "No one thinks you're funny, brother. There are several people that think I should banish you from Asgard."

"Wouldn't that be a blow," Loki said sarcastically. "Don't say things like that, Odin. You'll make me cry."

Odin's face had become rather red beneath his beard, which was always a warning sign. A warning sign that Loki never heeded. "You go too far."

"What are you going to do about it?" Loki taunted. His lips, which were permanently scarred from a run-in with the dwarves, were twisting into a sneer.

Odin's eyes met his, and Loki was able to see the battle he was fighting inside. There was fury, confusion, and resentment in Odin's pale orbs. Loki felt a small bit of pride that he had been the one to unravel the Aesir's exalted leader.

"You're running out of chances," Odin finally said in a tight voice. "I'll give you one more opportunity. Don't make me change my mind."

Loki's lip curled, but Odin stomped out of the room before he could say anything more. Instead, he rolled his eyes and went back to reading about Prince Alexandros and the kidnapping of Helen.

The next person to interrupt him was Baldur himself.

Baldur was truly beautiful, with large blue eyes and a yard of golden hair.

Loki resented that. It was just another thing that made the young god seem so utterly perfect.

"Have you ever heard of this great thing called knocking?" he snapped, throwing down the scroll.

"Sorry," Baldur apologized. The kid actually looked abashed. "Odin told me you were just reading…"

"It's fine," Loki muttered, not meaning it. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to talk about our problem."

Loki lifted his eyes. "If you're talking about me hating you," he drawled, "it's not a 'problem'. It's a fact."

For a moment, Baldur looked surprised. Loki wondered if anyone had ever told him that they hated him before. Probably not.

"I don't understand," he finally mumbled. "Why do you hate me?"

Loki snorted for the umpteenth time that day. "Do I need a reason? And even if I did, would it be any of your business? Let me answer that for you: No."

The oh-so-perfect golden eyebrows furrowed. "Have you ever considered that you might have more friends if you weren't so unbelievably rude?"

"Have you ever considered that I don't want friends?" Loki countered in a delicate voice.

Baldur blinked. He had no response.

Dinner was an interesting affair. It was obvious that Odin and Baldur had told their experiences with Loki to the entire pantheon, and accordingly, the other gods spent the meal throwing uncomfortable or angry expressions at him. Loki thrived off their turbulent emotions. He couldn't keep the smirk off his face – and wouldn't even if he could.

"So," he finally said jauntily, plopping a sauerkraut ball into his mouth. "When are you guys going to banish me?"

"You know Odin wouldn't do that," Freyr said in clipped tones. "You take advantage of his kindness every chance you get."

"'Take advantage'?" Loki scoffed. "It's not my fault His Majesty is a pushover."

"'Pushover'?" Thor repeated angrily. Loki glanced over and saw that he and Tyr were both glaring at him. Thor was fingering his stupid hammer. "My father is the only reason you are still alive. I wanted to slay you after what you did to my wife!"

Loki rolled his eyes at them. "You kids are such suck-ups."

"Please don't talk to them like that," Sif, Thor's wife, pleaded. Loki's eyes landed on her and the beautiful golden wig that he had gone to so much trouble to get (after he had chopped off all her hair, of course). He bit back the scathing remark that was on the tip of his tongue; after all, it wasn't her fault that her husband was his best enemy.

Silence once again reigned, and Loki busied himself by shoveling large spoonfuls of potatoes into his mouth until Freya moaned that she would be sick if he didn't stop.

Loki didn't think that Baldur would have the nerve to approach him twice in the same day, but apparently he'd underestimated the other god. After dinner, Baldur entered his room – once again without knocking.

"If you do that again, I'll cut off your hair just like I did to Sif," Loki warned from where he was lounging on his bed. "Maybe she'll even let you borrow her wig."

"I was just wondering," Baldur began, slipping into the chair by Loki's desk, "why you are the way you are."

Loki stared at him. "Is that a trick question?"

Baldur shook his head, and his blond hair fell into his face. He brushed it away. "No."

"Then be a little more clear."

"Why are you so rude? Why do you have to be cruel to your family members? You didn't used to be this way."

"First of all, you aren't my family. In fact, your family spends most of their free time trying to wipe my family off the face of the earth." He was referring to the giants. "Second of all, I'm rude because I want to be. Now, if you're done asking idiotic questions, get out of my room."

Baldur didn't budge, and Loki started to shoot him a glare that would have made most men cower – but then he paused.

Baldur had never been very good at concealing his emotions, and in that moment his feelings were quite clearly written across his face.

An astonished Loki realized that this young god – his blood brother's son – had feelings for him.

Loki basically shoved Baldur out of his room after that; he didn't think he had the strength to deal with the fact that one of the gods he hated the most had a crush on him. Couldn't life ever be simple?

He frowned as he returned to his bed; he wasn't sure what to make of the situation. This wasn't something he'd ever had to worry about before. After all, he made it his business to become everyone's enemy. Things were just easier that way.

He began to pick at his bedspread absently. Certainly, he could use Baldur's feelings against him if he ever felt the need to.

Or…

The fingers paused. Loki tilted his head as his mind whirred. He had never given much thought to sexual encounters with other men – or even with women. Relationships of all kinds were a weakness, no matter how impersonal they were. It would involve someone seeing a side of him that he preferred to keep to himself.

But Baldur was a sappy fool who wore his heart on his sleeve, anyway. Surely it wouldn't matter if he were to see that side of Loki…

The thoughts kept coming, and Loki found himself staring at the far wall of his room like it held all the secrets of the universe.

Finally, he was struck with the perfect idea. A small smile curved his lips. It would take careful planning, but if everything went accordingly, all would work out as it should.

The gods of Asgard did not usually take breakfast together; they preferred to do so in their own palaces with immediate family members. So when a message was sent out one early morning for the gods to meet at Fensalir for the morning meal, everyone knew that something was wrong.

"I had a very disturbing dream last night," Frigg announced when everyone had been seated at the table. Her mouth was tight with worry, and her normally-bright eyes were surrounded by dark circles.

Everyone froze. Baldur's knife fell to his plate with a loud clatter. It was a well-known fact that Frigg had the gift of foresight, but never before had she shared a prophecy.

"I had no such dream," Odin frowned. As lord of Asgard, he made it his business to known everything past, present, and future.

Frigg laid a hand on his arm to silence him. From the corner of his eye, Loki saw the Vanir twins, Frey and Freya, glance at each other.

"I dreamed of Baldur's death," the queen finally said in a grave voice.

If the gods had been shocked before, it was nothing compared to how they reacted now. Thor and Tyr let out simultaneous roars of disbelief. Vidar and Bragi both gaped at Baldur. Sif murmured "Oh no" under her breath. Odin sat in dumbfounded silence.

Loki watched the proceedings with keen eyes.

Baldur himself had nothing to say. Patient as always, he was waiting for his mother to speak.

And speak she did. "I have an idea," she said when the uproar had died down. "It will take a while, but I think it's feasible. The girls and I shall make a list of everything in the nine worlds that have the ability to hurt my son. Then I will set out to make sure that these things take an oath not to cause him any harm."

"Do you think that will work?" Baldur said, his voice unusually small. His blue eyes were resting on Loki. He was asking Loki, the self-appointed trickster, if he thought the plan would succeed.

Loki stared back for a second before speaking. "Yes, Baldur. I think it will work."

And it probably would, he thought to himself. All of the worlds are head-over-heels in love with that kid.

Asgard wasn't quite the same without the female goddesses. The male residents of the heavenly world were twice as glum as usual. Frey, an original member of the Vanir, was usually aglow with an ethereal light. Without his twin sister, though, it was like that light had been extinguished.

Loki had put a stopper on his sarcastic comments and cruel remarks. As according to the plan, he was doing his best to help his fellow Aesir protect Baldur from whatever demise his mother had foreseen. The other gods, though suspicious of his change of heart, didn't question it.

He hadn't actually seen Baldur since the morning after Frigg's dream. Odin had decided to build a palace for his second-oldest son, and he and said child were busy overseeing the construction. While Odin was away, Loki had the king's entire palace, Valaskialf, to himself.

Several weeks after the girls' departure, there was a knock on Loki's door. "It's open," he called, not looking up from the scroll. He had finished the Iliad and moved on to the Odyssey.

The door opened, and in walked Baldur. He was dressed in black trousers and a dark-blue tunic that brought out the different hues in his eyes. Loki fought the urge to roll his eyes at the picture of perfection. "Did you need something?" he asked instead.

Rather than speak, Baldur looked at the floor. His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. Loki's eyebrows rose. Why was the younger god so nervous?

"I—" Baldur began. "I—um—"

"Yes?" Loki pressed, doing his best not to sound annoyed. Didn't this child know that he had better things to do?

Baldur lifted his eyes, meeting the dark gaze of the trickster in front of him. Loki knew that the form he was in was rather intimidating and couldn't really be called attractive. His hair was somewhat stringy and his skin was gaunt. Though he was a shape-shifter and could appear any way he wished, he had learned long ago that it doesn't always pay to have an appealing face.

He sighed and put the scroll aside before sitting up. His hands, pale and long-fingered, fell to his lap. "Is there something you need to tell me?" he said in his most gentle voice.

Baldur's eyes flicked to his now-empty hands, and Loki knew what he was going to do even before he did it.

The blond moved to stand in front of him with one step of his long legs. Hesitantly, he reached out to pick up one of Loki's hands. "Your skin is so cold," he murmured.

"Not all of us can be perfect like you," Loki couldn't help but say.

At those words, Baldur's face took on his infamous kicked-puppy look. "I didn't mean it like that."

Loki chose not to say anything else.

They stayed like that for several moments, with Loki still sitting on the bed and Baldur standing in front of him, holding one of his hands.

The younger god's hand was soft and warm, and Loki's eyes slid from his face down to his chest. He found himself wondering involuntarily if the rest of his skin felt like that.

When he looked back up, it seemed as though the space between them had decreased considerably. He could count every one of Baldur's eyelashes. For the first time Loki noticed the freckles that were sprinkled across the other god's nose.

"Why do you have to be so cruel?" Baldur whispered. Even his breath smelled perfect, Loki noted with disgust.

"That's who I am," Loki replied, trying not to inhale too deeply. "And from the looks of things, you don't seem to mind."

For once, Baldur didn't speak. He tilted his head forward, and his hair tumbled over his shoulders. It shimmered in the light cast by the candle on Loki's table.

Loki was shocked when the other god sat down, actually straddling his lap. He fought against the strong urge to cringe. But then he felt Baldur's hands on his chest, pushing him backwards so that he was laying on his bed, and the disgust turned into a feeling of vulnerability. "What are you doing?" he tried to demand, but Baldur didn't give him a chance to finish. The blond crawled over his body, pressing their torsos together, and his mouth latched onto Loki's exposed neck.

Loki's own body betrayed him; he felt a stir of arousal. The feeling of warm lips, a searing hot tongue, licking, sucking, biting, was almost more than he could take; it was enough to make him forget the fact that it was Baldur, of all people, giving him this taste of pleasure. He wondered where the god had learned how to do this.

He felt Baldur's hips roll against his own, felt something rock-hard brush against his own hardening erection, and the small burst of pleasure was enough to make his back arch off the bed in search of more. Baldur took the opportunity to wrap his arms around Loki's torso, holding the smaller body close against his own. His mouth left the trickster's neck, and he buried his face against the still-clothed chest as he ground their hips together. Loki bit back a moan, knowing that if they were caught, they would both be banished from Asgard. He thought the tiny, desperate noises coming from deep inside Baldur's throat were one of the most arousing things he'd ever heard, and wasn't that a thought that would haunt him for years to come.

Time became inconsequential; it could have been minutes or hours passing, but Loki was too far gone to care. He vaguely thought that they were behaving like adolescents, too shy (or desperate) to remove their clothes, but who cared?

When it was over, Loki found himself staring down at the top of Baldur's head. The other god hadn't lifted his head, and Loki wondered if it was because he was scared of Loki's reaction or because he had fallen asleep.

"Are you planning on staying there the rest of the day?" he finally drawled when his legs began to fall asleep from the weight.

First there was a moment of silence, and then came the muffled question. "Do you hate me now?"

Loki rolled his eyes. "I've always hated you. Now get off me, you idiot. I'm a sticky mess."

Baldur sat up but remained seated on Loki's hips. Loki glared up at him. "I said, get off."

Baldur stared at him. "Loki—"

Loki huffed, and with a snap of his fingers, vanished. Baldur fell to the ground in an undignified heap.

Loki popped back into existence behind him. "You really should learn how to listen."

"That's it?" Baldur asked, struggling to his feet. "That's all you have to say?"

Loki crossed his arms. His dark eyes bore into Baldur's. "What am I supposed to do? Declare my undying love for you?"

"No…"

"Sing a song?"

"No…"

"This isn't going to change anything," Loki said. "I still don't like you."

The blonde's crestfallen look made Loki want to snort with laughter, but he refrained. Instead he said, "You can kiss me if it'll make you feel better."

Baldur didn't move, so Loki closed the distance between them. "Kiss me," he demanded.

So Baldur leaned forward and covered the scarred lips with his own.

There was no denying that the younger god was a talented kisser, and Loki thought that if it were anyone else he was kissing, he would have thoroughly enjoyed the experience.

When they were done, Baldur ran a finger down the trickster's jawline and whispered, "I'll miss you" before vanishing from the room.

Loki shook his head before taking a seat on his bed and picking up the discarded scroll.

Since the construction of Baldur's palace was completed soon after their tryst, Loki didn't see much of the blond god – something that both relieved and annoyed him. On one hand, it spared him from having to see and talk to the other god. The downside was that it hindered his plan.

One morning Loki went down to the Great Hall for the afternoon meal and was surprised to see the majority of the Aesir gods already there. He had become accustomed to dining alone; the girls were still gone, Baldur had already moved into his new palace that he had named Breidablik and Odin, when not at Valhalla, was usually off doing kingly things that Loki didn't really care about.

Today the group of gods was standing in a circle around the king. Loki, after stopping to stare for a moment, pushed his way through the crowd until he could see what was going on.

It soon became obvious to him what all the fuss was about.

Odin was missing an eye.

"What in the name of Asgard happened to you?" Loki asked with just a hint of amusement.

Odin rounded on him. "Your so-called family happened to me," he growled. "You giants are all the same. You have to keep everything for yourselves!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Loki said, holding up a hand. "Back up. The giants did this to you? Why?"

"Does it matter?!" Odin demanded. "My face is mangled!"

"What happened?" Loki repeated, used to Odin's belittling of the giants; rather hypocritical, since his parents were also Jötnar.

"I went to the Well of Widsom," Odin began to explain, his voice low and angry. He was covering his empty eye socket with one of his large hands. "I didn't know that it was being guarded by that vile giant, Mimir…"

Loki could already see where this story was going. He had met Mimir several times, had in fact considered drinking from the well himself. Mimir's prices had been too steep for him. Odin had obviously thought different.

"He knew who I was," Odin continued in a hiss. "He knew that my eyes are able to see all, in heaven and on Earth. He demanded one of my eyes in exchange for a drink of the enchanted water."

Loki shook his head in disbelief. There wasn't anything Odin wouldn't do to gain wisdom.

Even Thor was staring at his father with an incredulous expression. "I don't believe that was the best decision to make, Father. Now the giants will be able to see everything we do—"

Odin's head shot up. His one eye was filled with rage. He couldn't stand to have his decisions questioned. He opened his mouth to snap back at his oldest son, but Loki was no longer hearing his words. He had just now spotted Baldur standing directly across from him on the other side of the circle. The young god's eyes were filled with yearning, and Loki found himself feeling angry that the kid dared to stare at him like that when it was his fault that they had been apart for so long. Then he quickly banished that thought; after all, he hated Baldur. He was only playing this game for his own benefit.

Baldur tilted his head ever-so-slightly towards the exit, and Loki gave a small nod. Breakfast had been completely forgotten.

They both broke away from the crowd; the other gods didn't notice – all attention was focused on the king and Thor. When they reached the hallway, Loki began to turn in the direction of his room – he had barely taken a step when he found himself thrown against the wall. His breath was knocked out of him but he had no time to regain it because Baldur was kissing him senseless.

Loki had to remind himself that he was angry. "Miss me?" he managed to sneer between kisses.

Baldur moaned in a way that Loki took to mean 'yes'.

"Then maybe you shouldn't have stayed away for so long." He clenched his fists, determined not to throw his arms around Baldur's neck and pull him closer. Who knew that kissing could be so pleasurable?

"I'm sorry," Baldur whispered, his breath hot against Loki's mouth. "I've been so busy…Missed you so much…"

An interesting statement, to be sure, Loki mused. After all, he'd never been anything but insolent and foul-mouthed to Baldur.

Loki cut his eyes at the blonde; no way was he going to give in that easily. But before he could come up with some sort of crude remark, loud voices erupted on the other side of the wall. The rest of the pantheon was coming out.

"Let's go to my palace," Baldur breathed. Loki nodded.

There was a small pop, and suddenly he was leaning against a completely different wall.

"Now," Loki said. "Where were we?"

It was a relationship –Loki cringed at the last word—full of heat, violence, anger, and pure, unbridled passion.

They spent the following year meeting as frequently as possible for secret trysts, until Loki was sure that he had Baldur wrapped around his little finger.

He tried to ignore the feelings of discontent that would stir up inside him whenever Baldur would be gone for a long period of time.

He hated those feelings.

He hated Baldur for making him feel that way.

One thing – or rather, person—that Loki had stupidly overlooked was Odin, who was appropriately called 'the Wise One'…and honestly, who wouldn't be wise if they could see everything that goes on in the universe? The All-Father had grabbed Loki by his hair one night during dinner and dragged him from the room. The other gods didn't so much as look up—it was a true testament to just how dysfunctional the family was.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Odin hissed once they were out of earshot.

"Sometimes," Loki said, backing away and putting a hand on his hip. "But do you care to elaborate?"

"I know exactly what's going on between you and my son!" His voice was becoming louder with each word, and Loki could feel his eardrums begin to throb in protest. "What you are doing is unnatural! This is a holy residence, and you dare to defile it with your acts of—"

He struggled for the proper word, and Loki knew that it was a sign of extreme anger when the wisest being in the universe couldn't find a suitable adjective.

He decided not to wait for the king to finish his sentence. "Sorry, Your Holiness, but it's not really any of your business," he drawled. "If we want to do it like bunnies, then we'll do it like bunnies. You can't stop us."

Odin's face was turning an alarming shade of red beneath the wide-brimmed hat that he had taken to wearing. For a moment, Loki thought that he might keel over from lack of oxygen. But then he spoke.

"You're running out of chances, brother. My patience is wearing thin."

"What a catastrophe," Loki said with an exaggerated sigh and a cluck of his tongue. "Now, if you're done trying to give yourself an embolism, I'd really like to finish dinner."

And with that, he headed back into the hall. That was the last time he and Odin discussed the subject.