This is the story of one man.
The Asgardians are not merely a race of warriors, though it is true that their stories of glory are mostly of war. They do revere all the skills that reside in Asgard, the artisans, the scholars, the sorcerers and the musicians, however, there is something written into their souls that tells them that the princes and kings of Asgard should be warriors, as well as wise leaders.
Loki never had the heart of a warrior, though he possessed skills which made him deadly in battle. His battles would have been remembered forever in the legends of Asgard had not the Asgardians also recognised, in their hearts, that Loki was not a warrior. They did not know quite what to do with him, yet they respected him, and loved him as Odin's son, as Thor's brother, as their prince. And he hated them for it.
…
Loki had always been a mass of contradictions. The deadliest warrior, yet not a warrior. A man who always introduced himself as Son of Odin, yet longed with a hatred not quite yet in bloom, for his own name to be remembered. And above all, he was a man who loved the shadows, for they were cool and peaceful, he could stretch out and be just as he wanted to be, yet he envied his brother for the golden light Thor forever basked in and exuded.
This is a man who longed for his father's love, yet who could not accept the man who he called father. Who deliberately provoked his brother into fighting him, yet never wanted to fight.
This is Odin's son and Thor's brother, the one in the shadows behind the sun. The man who had always been asking one particular question, and had never been satisfied with the answer.
What more than that?