Hey Everyone! This is the revised prologue to Behind Golden Walls as a little treat! I welcome any and all comments and reviews! Thanks!

Prologue: In the End

"Love is a force more formidable than any other. It is invisible - it cannot be seen or measured, yet it is powerful enough to transform you in a moment, and offer you more joy than any material possession could."

-Barbara de Angelis

Andalusia.

The Realm Eternal: Asgard; the home of the Norse gods and goddesses with the golden palace of the royal family as its centerpiece. Made almost entirely of the finest gold, its sacred hallways and passages gleamed with opulence and millennia of dominance. The beauty of the palace awes any, and all, who feast their eyes on its architecture. This truly was the home of divinity.

Do not cry…

Nothing contrasts more with this allure than the mournful sounds of chains and shackles scraping against the polished floor. With armor-clad einherjar on both flanks holding enchanted chains, the God of Mischief was being escorted to the throne room.

He was to face trial once again for his crimes... and would more than likely be his last time walking these halls. These same halls that once provided a sense of home; a sense of pride for the young prince. But, now...they reminded him of a time long gone. A time when he was once loved and accepted. But was he truly accepted? Or was he simply made to believe he was?

In hindsight he knew the latter was true: he was never truly accepted. It was all part of an elaborate illusion made to make him feel like an equal. The last time he was walked these halls was after the incident involving Malekith and the remainder of his Dark Elves tribe, and the death of his mother, Frigga… It was difficult to wrap his brain around the fact that it had been a little over two years since that time. The time between his last visit and now...

My darling, how I ache for you.

Loki didn't look up as he was led to the All-Father's hall. His gaze was fixed to the cold, stone floor, taking notice of nothing. He was too lost in his own melancholic and chaotic world to notice any of his surroundings. He didn't struggle or utter any snarky comments to the einherjar. He couldn't. He had no strength to retaliate…and he didn't want to. There was no point. He had too much blood on his hands to just simply wash away.

He knew what laid ahead for him- he knew these would be his last hours of life. Hel was waiting for him; he was resigned to his fate. Was this really his purpose all along? Was it his fate to die at the hands of the man who claimed to love him; who lied to him? There had to be more and yet it was clear to see that there wasn't.

Loki was nothing more than a mere ghost of the man he once was. He was a broken man. Everything he loved was taken from him. His heart- the one he thought had died so long ago- was ripped from his chest and left in a bloody, shattered heap back on Midgard...back in those trembling hands of his lover.

By the gods, how he missed those soft, gentle hands as they would caress his face reverently as if touching something so precious; the way they would rake their fingers through his long onyx hair with such tenderness; the way they would dig and claw into his sweaty, muscled back with such a heady and erotic hunger whenever they made love...Those touches are now only memories. Loki knew he would never be able to kiss or hold those hands again. Just as he will never see her again.

How I yearn for your touch…

Odin, King of Asgard and Protector of the Nine Realms, sat on his golden throne, Hildskjalf, with a look of cold determination and indifference in his sky blue eye. There was no mirth. No glimmer of any kind of emotion other than loathing and utter disappointment. It was a look Loki knew well, but it had no effect. Nothing did anymore.

Gungnir, Odin's scepter, was in hand and gleaming from hilt to tip in its entire glorious splendor. It was a power not to be trifled with. Loki once held that same scepter only two years ago back when he was sitting on the throne as king of Asgard. Or more like pretending to be.

Odin's alabaster hair and aged wrinkles did not betray his immense strength and wisdom. On the surface he appeared as every bit a regal and composed king, but deep down he was deeply conflicted. He was about to face his son, Loki, for a second time to decide his fate, a decision he never wished he had to make. Especially not twice.

What happened? What happened to the little raven-haired boy who ran up and down the palace halls with a mischievous grin? What happened to the young prince when he defeated the Unknown and became a man? Oh my son...why?

"The einherjar have arrived, father," said the God of Thunder with a solemn look, "with the prisoner."

Fully armored, with Mjornil gripped in hand, Thor stood by his father's side. The Mighty Thor was looking the most un-mightiest the All-Father had seen his son, aside from when his mother was killed. That same look of utter despair was etched into his handsome face. His once brilliant sky blue eyes that were always so fiery and full of spirit seemed muted, displaying only sadness and weariness.

Why was this happening again? Is this the price of honor and duty: to take his brother away from his life on Earth? To take away his second chance, a chance to finally find where he belongs? No...This is how it has to be. He must answer for his crimes. The pain and suffering caused by his hand cannot go unpunished. The uncertainty remained no matter how much Thor reasoned.

"Yes," Odin's gaze fell on the large golden doors and inwardly braced himself for what was to come. "I know."

Are you thinking of me, minn auðr?

The doors opened and in marched the caravan of einherjar with chains in their hands. The sound of chains clinking and clanking filled the silent hall, echoing off the columns and ceiling. They stopped in front of the steps leading up to Odin's throne and moved aside to reveal the prisoner. Odin's eyes slightly widened at the sight before him.

Dead. That was what he was. There were no other words that could describe the man in front of Odin. The once handsome prince was like a walking corpse. With hunched shoulders, Loki looked as if any moment his legs would give out and he would crumble to the floor in a lifeless heap. His once creamy, pale skin was ghastly white and pasty, almost sickly. His cheekbones were too pronounced and his cheeks looked hollowed. His ebony hair was knotted and carelessly tousled, falling in front of his face like a clump of moss.

Aside from his dismal appearance, his clothing was entirely un-Asgardian; or un-Loki for that matter. Instead of his usual green and gold armor, he was wearing human clothes: an untucked slate gray button-down cotton shirt that was wrinkled with the letters A|X stitched on his left breast and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows; a pair of classic black boot-cut jeans held up by a black belt with a silver buckle, and some black leather ankle boots with some light scruff on the toes. Odin noticed his hands distractedly massaging something that was peeking through his fingers but he couldn't see what. On Midgard, his attire would have been somewhat casual but still well-put with a sense of sophistication and style. In any other realm, however, he looked like a lowly human.

Aside from his rather unusual appearance, there was something even more peculiar about the prince. It was the way he carried himself. It was a look Odin was quite familiar with. He himself once had that look and he could see Thor with that exact same look. Loki, the God of Lies and Mischief, was in love and desperately so. The depth of it radiated off him like micro heat waves. Who was this woman who had Loki so deeply enthralled and captured his heart? Who was this woman who had conquered him utterly and irrevocably?

Loki raised his head up to Odin, barely glancing at Thor. His eyes were heavy-lidded and bloodshot with dark circles under them as if he hadn't slept in days. They were lifeless and completely void of any emotion. They had transformed from vibrant emerald to a shade so dark, they looked black.

Thor slightly stumbled back but stopped himself before tripping. What happened? When Thor had brought Loki back from Earth just a few days ago, he looked nothing like the corpse he looked now. Even an hour ago, although somewhat weary and disheveled, he looked healthy and solid as he always did.

When Thor brought Loki to Asgard, he was told the trial was to be held sometime after his arrival and to not allow Loki the chance to change into his usual armor. He was to wait in the dungeons until it was time. That was understandable, but this...Could only such a few short days away from her really do this much damage?

"What in the name of-" Thor started to say but went quiet when Odin raised a hand to silence him.

"Loki Laufeyson," Odin began in a loud voice, "you are brought here once again to face judgment for your crimes against Asgard, Jotunheim, and the House of Odin. You are also here to answer for the countless innocent lives you have taken on account of your treachery." Odin's voice reverberated against the walls of the hall with immense authority. Loki didn't react or even respond. It was as if he never heard him or cared to hear.

"You are charged with the crimes of the attempted killing of the king, seizing the throne unlawfully, impersonating the king, conspiracy, attempted genocide of Jotunheim and the attempted domination of Midgard, and for the lives you have taken." As he went down the list of crimes, Odin's voice grew stronger and more enraged. His fury was fueled with each second Loki remained stoic.

All the while Loki barely moved. His gazed was fixed up at his father, but he wasn't looking at him— he was looking through him into a world he longed to be in: where he was back in his lover's arms; her bright, green eyes twinkling at him with adoration, her beautiful smile…that smile that melted his heart—where he was home. Truly home. He could faintly smell his sweet perfume lingering on his shirt where she had pressed body against him. He could also smell a hint of powder and Vaseline of all things. It's funny how strong the sense of smell is. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on her low, sensual voice and the sounds of soft cooing...

Do not forget me, my love.

"The crimes you have committed are heinous and unforgivable," Odin said breaking Loki's fantasy. "You have dishonored the house of Odin and the throne. You are not worthy of living. Frigga is here no more, and neither is any mercy." Loki flinched at the mention of his mother, but remained silent.

Thor never felt so conflicted in his life. When Loki was last brought before their father, he was un-remorseful and full of his witty fire and smugness. He didn't care about the innocent people he killed, the families that will forever be changed or the destruction he caused. He didn't care about any of it. Thor had heard the whispers, the murmurs about his brother going around the palace. Traitor, murderer, monster- those were just some of the names. They seemed accurate two years ago… but now Thor wasn't so sure.

"What have you to say for your actions, Loki?" asked Odin, his voice leveled. "Speak."

Loki simply stared at Odin. So many things to say… So many. For all his skills as the Silvertongue, he could not seem to find the right words. He hated his father. There was no changing that. There was no forgiveness that Loki would ever extend to what Odin had done. He was not sorry for what he did to his father, but he was repentant for the blood he spilt by his own hands.

He had killed many times before in his past battles and adventures, but the faceless victims of his onslaught during the Battle of New York and the Frost Giants in Jotunheim had imprinted on his heart. It was like the other battle scars on his body. There was no going back for him. His shame would be a burden he would carry for the rest of his life to remind him of how easy life can be taken away.

When the silence seemed to continue without end, Thor stepped over to Loki and gently grabbed his shoulder.

"Brother, please speak. Tell him how much you have changed!"

Loki slowly turned to Thor, his eyes tired, and cocked his head. Ever loyal and foolish was Thor, still not able to understand that there was nothing more that could be done. Why couldn't he just accept reality? Ever the optimist his oaf of a brother was. Thor gave him a pleading look, but Loki would not respond.

"Remove your hand from the criminal!" Odin's voice boomed. "He is to face his punishment alone."

"But, father—"

"That is not a request."

Defeated, Thor released his brother and returned to his original position by his father, his head hanging low. Loki turned his attention back to Odin and cleared his throat.

"There is nothing that I can say that can redeem me or my actions," Loki croaked, his voice sounding as if he hadn't used it in years. There was an undercurrent of deep sentiment in his words that was uncharacteristic of the trickster god. Choosing his words carefully, he continued. "I have committed many a wrong. So many, I have given up trying to count. I have brought shame to my name. For every wrong I committed…I am sorry." Those last words were spoken through a clenched jaw, but surprisingly spoken with genuine sincerity.

Loki speaking those words sounded foreign and almost unreal. At that point, pride meant nothing to Loki. He wanted Odin to see how repentant he was. Not for Odin's sake, but for his own. He wanted to set things right to some degree, even though he knew he was to die. Two years ago Loki would have laughed at the thought of baring himself so shamefully and willingly giving himself over.

"All-Father…I know that regardless of what I say, my fate is sealed." Loki sunk to the floor on his knees, the chains clinking as he did.

Odin remained outwardly indifferent, but deep down he wanted nothing more than to forgive him and forget the whole affair. He wanted to believe his son truly had changed but found that notion ludicrous as previous showed. Thor was trying to keep his emotions in check and remain passive but he was finding it more and more difficult. It took everything in him not to run to his brother's side and stand by him.

"Anything else you wish to say?" asked Odin quietly.

Loki narrowed his eyes at Odin and pondered on how to phrase his next sentences to be most…effective. With one of his infamous smirks, the trickster god locked eyes with Odin and spoke with utter smugness, "As sincerely apologetic I am for the actions I took, there is one thing that I am not sorry for…"

"And what is that, pray tell?" Odin asked with a raised eyebrow. Some of the trickster god's old "charm" had returned.

Loki puffed his chest and spoke, "The truth is: I am not sorry for the actions I took against your person, your majesty." The last two words were said mockingly. Odin tightened his eyes down at the prisoner, but said nothing.

"If these are to be my final words, then allow me to express my utmost rancor for you. You are utterly despicable. You are not my father nor were you ever; for no true father would have done what you have. I would know…" His eyes glazed slightly at that last part, but his practiced mask returned.

With some difficulty Loki got to his feet and closed his eyes. Everyone in the hall stiffened with caution as to what the master sorcerer was about to do. Loki's brows furrowed in concentration as a wave of cerulean blue slowly spread all over his skin from head to toe. Intricately raised tribal markings appeared on his forehead in the shape of a semi-circle as well some smaller markings on his chin and below his eyes. Markings also appeared on his forearms.

Suddenly, the floor and air around his body began to freeze, spreading to the area around his feet. The einherjar holding his chains stepped back with cautious expressions. He then opened his lids to reveal glowing crimson eyes that sparked with fierce grit.

I would do anything for you…

Thor was paralyzed; this was the third time he seen Loki's "true form" and it still left him unease. Yes, he had seen and battled many Frost Giants during the course of his many adventures, but to see his own brother in that form was quite unnerving and eye-opening. Even after Odin had told him of Loki's true parentage, that did nothing to stop his love for him. It didn't matter if they weren't blood related or that they had different parents; what mattered was the bond they shared growing up as children and as brothers in arms. But all of that didn't seem to matter to Loki.

Loki locked his gaze with Odin's and glared. "Look at me!" he shouted vehemently. "This who I truly am: I am Loki Laufeyson of Jotunheim!"

Every word spoken from his azure lips came out with a puff of cooled air. "I have embraced this current form where all of Asgard, even you, has scorned at it, believing it to be inferior. I am not inferior nor am I the lesser prince. The bond between us, Father, has been severed indefinitely; there is no mending it."

The ice that formed around Loki's feet began to grow pointed spikes that jutted out menacingly in every direction. The temperature in the room dropped to near freezing. A sudden cool breeze swept through and blew out the torches in the hall. The einherjar not holding chains drew their weapons, ready for anything the trickster will throw at them. But Loki was paying them no heed. His fingers continued to fidget with the unknown object in his hands, focus was solely on Odin.

I would sacrifice anything.

"I should have let Laufey kill you," Loki said, his voice deathly calm. The chill of the room was no comparison to the iciness in Loki's voice. It sent involuntary chills down Thor's and the guards' spines. "It would have saved a lot of trouble for me. Oh, but what glory is there in letting someone else kill your prey?"

"Loki—" Thor began but was silenced by Odin's raised hand.

"I should have killed you while I had the chance…" continued Loki as if he were never interrupted, a dark smirk playing on his lips. Better to go out with a bang. "I should have gotten my dagger and thrust it into your skull, right between the eyes, and watch the blood seep out of your lifeless corpse onto the floor; then all my troubles would have ceased. Whether I live or die, it matters not. You want to know why?"

Anything…

Loki's smirk grew even wider. "Because in the end… I win. I always win." With a flick of his wrist his Asgardian form returned and the ice around his feet melted away. The room temperature slowly rose to its original temperature.

"Is there anything else you wish to say?" Odin asked; his voice was eerily calm. This entire time his face remained as blank as a piece of paper.

"'Is there anything else?'Hmmmmmmm…," mocked Loki. He furrowed his brows and puckered his lips like a child in mock concentration. He was toying with them.

"Well… there is one more thing that I wish to say," He said with one of his mischievous chuckles. "As they say on Earth:" Loki flipped Odin off, his smirk changing into a fake innocent smile, "Fuck you, asshole."

We will be together again whether in this life or the next.

The hall went deathly silent. The tension in the air was too palpable. No one moved. No one dared to breathe. All eyes were on the All-Father, waiting to see his response. The einherjar got into their battle stances and gripped the chains tightly. Loki's smirk never faltered.

With a huff and slight struggle, Odin suddenly rose from his seat and made his way down the stairs of his throne. Everyone in the hall stiffened at his approach. He stopped in front of Loki and looked with quiet observation. There they stayed for what felt like hours, just staring at each other. Odin was trying to peer into his son's heart while Loki was trying to find any hint of... anything. Odin's face was blank, not revealing a single thought.

Finally, Odin broke the silence. "I see that you are still as insolent as ever, Loki. Your time on Midgard has not served you well. Need I remind you that you are not helping your cause? Do well to remember, boy, that I not only hold your life in my hands, but others as well…"

Loki's body lunged forward at Odin so quickly, the einherjar holding his chains weren't able to react in time. Loki's hands latched onto Odin's face with a painful grip, his nails digging into the skin.

I would kill for you…

"You even touch them; bastard," he growled, "and I will have you begging me to end you!" His was face was mere inches away from Odin's and contorted with such an intense ferocity it startled Odin. It wasn't Loki's sudden violent outburst that startled; it was the intensity of his rage. Them? The only time Loki displayed such aggression and possessiveness was when Frigga died, but even then those emotions paled in comparison to the man before him. Loki looked possessed— feral and menacing. His pupils were dilated and bore into Odin's eyes. Odin's eyes were able to catch a glimpse at what Loki was fidgeting with in his hands and spotted some sort of cotton material. It was pink. But as soon as he saw it, Loki tucked it back inside his hands.

The einherjar tried to pull him away, but it took Thor's strength to detach Loki from his father's face.

"LOKI!" Thor howled as he dragged Loki away from Odin to allow some space, "Are you mad?! Think of what you're doing!"

"Be grateful that I am chained," Loki warned completely ignoring Thor, "or else your lackeys will have to call in someone to mop up your entrails."

Odin knew the threat was very real. He knew that given the chance Loki would kill him. There was no doubt about that. All the more reason Loki should be executed. But, the more Odin examined him; there was something peculiar he saw that seemed to stop him from pulling the plug on his son's life. He did see a change in Loki. No longer was he a monster incapable of love, but a man so full of it, it was brimming from his very soul.

Was this mortal woman really the cause for it? What has happened to him on Earth for the past two years? Odin needed to see what had changed Loki. But at the same time, he couldn't trust that this change had made him any less of a threat. People do terrible things in the name of love.

"Thor," Odin said regaining his composure and authority, "take the prisoner to the Interrogation Chamber." Thor solemnly nodded his head and signaled for the einherjar to usher the young prince out of the hall. "Prep him for the procedure."

"Oh! So you're going to torture me first?" Loki shouted over his shoulder with a wicked laugh as he practically dragged away. "How very sporting!" His humorless laugh along with the sound of scraping metal echoed but eventually faded as the convoy made their way through the palace.

Once alone, Thor approached his father with haste. "Why are you taking him to the Interrogation Chamber?" Thor's voice showed too much hopefulness than he wanted to, but showed it none the less.

Thor wanted his brother alive and was willing to do anything to make sure that happened. But if he could not…he didn't want to think about that right now. The only thing on his mind was Andalusia and keeping her safe.

Odin turned to him and gave him a face that meant for Thor not to question him.

"There is something I need to see," was Odin's response.

"So, you plan on torturing him in order to get what you want?"

Odin cut his eye at his son and glared. "Does it matter how I achieve my ends? He is a criminal and is at my mercy. If you have any loyalty to me left," his voice turned dark, "you will not question me." His implication about Thor taking Jane Foster during the Dark Elves invasion to Svartalfheim cut deep. He himself was still trying to regain his father's trust after his act of treason.

"Only I will be in the room with him," Odin said breaking Thor's thoughts. "You are to wait here until I am finished."

"And what of-"

"You are to wait for further instructions. That is all."

"No, father, that is not all!" Thor said heatedly taking a bold step forward. He was trying to temper his feelings and not cause more damage than was done already. "Do you truly intend to torture him? What could you possibly gain from that?"

"I do not plan on torturing him. I intend to put him in a comatose state and use the Mind Forger to peer into his memories."

"His memories? For what intent would that serve?"

"That is no concern of yours."

"Their souls are bound," Thor pointed out, his irritability about the situation growing more apparent each second, "What happens to Loki affects her as well. You enter his mind; you enter hers as well and all her memories."

"You care for this mortal woman." It wasn't a question. The truth was plain to see. Even a fool could see as much.

"I…father, what I care about is justice," Thor said tightly, his brows furrowed. That was a road he was not going to go down now. He couldn't let his feelings cloud his judgment.

"Justice? The only justice is to have Loki punished for his crimes. Has this woman corrupted your mind as well, my son?"

"Her name is Andalusia," Thor defended, his fists clenching instinctively. "The only thing she has done to my mind was to open it to the truth about Loki."

"What truth? That he has, as they say, 'turned a new leaf,' and has become a changed man? Do not be a fool, Thor."

"And what if he has?" Thor asked, his eyes pleading. "You would sacrifice an innocent woman who has done nothing but love your 'unlovable' son? Do you know what she has been through? What she has given up? It is not just be her you would be hurting, father. Loki and Andalusia have—"

"Enough!" Odin commanded, slamming the tip of Gungnir to the floor with a loud clang. Thor went mute and stood rigidly. "We are done here." Without another word he turned his back on Thor and made his way out of the throne room with swift footsteps.

Thor was left there standing alone to wander in his own thoughts. How could Odin be so callous? He never knew his father to be so cruel. Didn't he care at all about Andalusia? His father's apathy towards the situation disturbed Thor to no end. He exhaled deeply and put his face in his hand.

He felt useless. What more could he do? The sound of approaching footsteps caught his attention. He looked up and saw an einherjar coming towards him.

"Pardon me, your highness," the einherjar said, giving the customary salute, "Heimdall requests your presence at the Bifrost."

"Thank you," Thor said with a curt nod, "I leave immediately."

Only one thing came to his mind: Andalusia. The procedure had begun. Thor ran out the hall to the nearest balcony. He grabbed Mjolnir and spun at a high velocity and raced forward through the sky with its thrust like a blur. He had to get to Earth. He had to get to her.

Do not forget me.

The Interrogation Chamber was bare except for a very uncomfortable-looking stone couch in the center. The room was dark except for the few torches that were lit. There were no windows and it faintly smelled like sweat. Loki had been in this room many times to interrogate any captured prisoners and spies.

The machine that was used, the Mind Forger, had the ability to break into one's mind to find whatever was "needed" as well as erase any and all memories. It was a brilliant and effective weapon against enemies. Loki almost laughed at the irony of the situation. Now he was the prisoner. He knew what came next and cringed. The einherjar shoved him forward into the room and led him to the center of the room.

"You might want to watch how you handle me," Loki warned snarkily as he was laid down on his back on the very uncomfortable stone slab couch. "I may not be your 'sovereign' prince any more, but that does not mean I will not have your heads. By the gods, can one of you oafs get me a pillow or something? It is like sleeping on a rock." The einherjar ignored him and continued what they were doing in silence.

Each of them brought their chains to the floor around the couch and locked them into the hooks that rose up. They were placed there in case the prisoner tried to escape or attempt to kill the interrogator.

"Is this really necessary?" Loki continued, not caring about being ignored. "Paranoid bastard Odin is. Well he should be; I would not trust me either if I was him."

Staring down at Loki was the Mind Forger. It was an impressive piece of machinery that hung from the high-vaulted ceilings. As Loki stared at the immense machine, his mind raced with thoughts of Andalusia. He tried to focus on her: the soft contours of her plump lips; the way her hair would fall into her face; the way her eyes squinted when she smiled; her voice whispering his name in the twilight hours of the night…

Andalusia…

One of the einherjar came towards him with a syringe filled with some clear, blue liquid Loki had never seen before.

"And what the hell is that?"

"Steady him," ordered the einherjar holding the syringe. Another guard, one with a full red beard, came over and held down Loki's arm.

"If one of you damn pricks does not answer me—"

"Steady," the lead einherjar said as he pointed the needle at his arm.

"No no no!" Loki hollered at his handlers as he tried to wiggle out of their grasps, but failed. There was nowhere to go. The needle pierced his skin and ejected the liquid into his system. "Damn you!" Once the syringe was empty, all the einherjar double-checked his restraints and left without another word. Now he was alone.

It was too late. Loki knew something was wrong. What was the liquid? Why hadn't they used the Mind Forger? This wasn't how he wanted to go down. He wanted it to be over with a swing of an axe. Quick and clean. But what was he expecting? Only the heroes get an honorable death. The villains were supposed to suffer in a slow and painful death. Loki knew he was no hero. A quick and easy death was only too painless for a monster like him.

"Oh god…what…?"

The machine above him began to blur. Colors blended together and a wave of light-headedness came over him. His eyelids suddenly seemed so heavy he had to fight to keep them open.

"No…stay awake," he tried talking to himself, but it was quickly becoming a losing battle. Even speaking was difficult since his words came out in drunken slurs. His whole body felt heavy. His mind was slowly going out of focus. Why was Odin putting him to sleep? It made no sense to Loki, but he couldn't think of that now.

With as much effort as he could muster, he wiggled his fingers and took out the object he had been holding on to since he came to Asgard. It was the last tangible thing he had to assure him that the past two years and a half weren't imaginary but was real. It is real. She is real. So were Evandr and Eärwen. It wasn't a dream… Even if it was, he wasn't going to stop chasing it. Ever.

Loki's last gleam of consciousness was a single image that nearly sent him reeling—it was Andalusia. She was beaming and beckoning him to come to her. She said his name the way he loved to hear her say it: breathy and mischievously full of unspoken promises. He smiled and tried to reach out for her, but found himself unable to move. His feet were stuck in place by some unknown force. Slowly, the image of her began to fade.

"Andalusia! Wait!"

Andalusia, wait for me…

Then everything went black.

Odin peered down at Loki's comatose-induced body as he was restrained on the stone couch. Seven years— that's how long ago he lost his son. Seven years since that day in the Weapons Vault that he told Loki of his true parentage. It seemed almost like a lifetime ago even though such an amount of time would be a heartbeat in comparison.

Odin gaze raked over Loki's body and sighed heavily. Loki looked just as sickly as he did in the throne room. But up close Odin could see things he couldn't before. His gaze fell on Loki's hands and stayed there. On his left hand was a ring— a wedding ring. Odin stared at it in shock. That mortal wasn't just his lover, she was also his wife.

Loki committing himself to one woman? And a human woman at that? The thought of that idea seemed laughable years ago. But now, the idea sounded unreal. Yet, there it was. It didn't look out of place. It looked like it belonged. The black and gold stood out regally against his pale skin. It was perfect.

The ring was black, made of polished Tungsten Carbide. It was quite elegant with diamond-cut edges and a golden dragon scroll professionally inlayed over a black and grey carbon fiber background. The intertwining limbs of the golden dragons were of a Celtic design and wrapped around the whole ring with fine detail. Upon closer inspection, the pin-point sized eyes of the dragons sparkled with tiny emeralds.

The ring was quite beautiful and fitting: black, gold, and green; Loki's colors. The mortal woman obviously loved Loki tremendously to be so meticulous and in tune. Was it love? Or was it blind lust? Why would a human woman marry the man who tried to conquer her planet?

Something else suddenly grabbed Odin's attention. He saw a glimpse of pink in Loki's hands and remembered how they were constantly fidgeting. Prying open his fingers, Odin saw the item Loki had been holding on to in the throne room. He gingerly took the item from Loki's grasp and examined it. As he did, his awareness of what it was made his heart ache. It didn't belong to an adult, but to a baby…

Odin knew this because 1,000 years ago Loki had one as well. The object was a cloth about a foot and a half long and half a foot wide. It was made of cotton and was a soft rosy pink. It had the same unknown excrement on Loki's shirt crusted on it. The borders were a pastel green with white a white polka-dot pattern. On one end of the cloth it had a stitched image of a baby elephant. Next to the elephant was the letter "E" embroidered in a dark pink color. What Odin saw next almost made his knees buckle. He grabbed of the stone couch for balance. On the other end of the cloth was more lettered embroidery. It read "I love Daddy" in the same dark pink color.

Odin shot a glance at Loki's sleeping face and felt an array of conflicting feelings: anger, sadness, pride, nostalgia, guilt, and confusion. Loki is a father and husband. Odin softly held the baby cloth and gently massaged it. Oh, how confusing twists can be. Could it really be possible that Loki had indeed changed? Was he really a changed man? Even tyrants could be good fathers. But did Loki really change? Was he truly repentant?

It didn't seem like he was when he was threatening the one who held his life. No matter how much Odin tried to examine the situation, the answer was not going to be as cut and dry as he wanted. This was something he had to examine first hand. He had to look into his son's mind to find the answer; the answer to the ultimate question: Could Loki be trusted?

He looked up at the Mind Forger and knew what must be done. He knew the procedure would affect the mortal and reach into her mind as well, but these steps were necessary.

"Let us begin."