Author Note: I haven't been able to get this idea out of my brain. It haunts me. So while I should be working on The Art of War instead I'm fiddling with this (that and I have free time while waiting on something!). Events will very swiftly alter from what happened in the movie as I have my own route I'd like to take. I hope people like it.

Chapter One: Altering the Strands

"You may have a fresh start any moment you choose, for this thing that we call 'failure' is not the falling down, but the staying up."

-Mary Pickford

The shimmering golden walls might have been magnificent for some. Loki was less than impressed by the unique form of the bars that caged him – gilded as they were. However the all-mother tried to help make him more comfortable didn't change that he had been sentenced to rot in this cage until he was as gray as the all-father. Despite Frigga's best efforts to entertain him he grew less content with each day that passed, more frustrated with the all-father's unjust decisions.

The only thing of interest he had to do is use his magic to spy on the world above. His mother, no, the all-mother, he corrected himself could send her consciousness – or at least a piece of it – here to his cell. Like she, he could extend his senses to the upper levels of the palace through his illusions. He wasn't able to do so in the shape of his own body. He knew Odin wouldn't tolerate that sort of blatant disrespect. Their short conversation before he was sentenced to this long stay was far from faith inspiring there would be forgiveness if Loki's new pastime was discovered.

Loki oft chose the forms of the people in the background, guards, cleaners, messengers, other such servants. People with uniforms were usually overlooked. Most seemed to think he belonged as long as he kept his head down. Wasn't too eager to overstep his bounds. These were tricks he'd perfected before he could reliably ride a horse. There were so many servants in the palace none in his family had any way of knowing them all and he blended in with them none the wiser. It was such a simple plan used to spy on them that Loki had to remember to watch himself. Should he ever escape this prison and be able to freely walk in the palace again.

"Thor brought a girl home to meet his dear mother." Loki thought with amusement, ignoring another flicker of regret as he considered his last conversation with Frigga. She would get over his biting remarks, she always did. Moving past that, diverting himself back to the topic at hand. "Years are a long time in mortal lives, she must be quite enamored of Thor to wait as long as she has. Here he's finally brought her to Asgard but with some mysterious ailment. How dreadful for them both..."

Loki grinned as he tossed the cup he was using to wile away his hours into the air and caught it again – before repeating the gesture. A pointless trick, but better than not moving at all. He couldn't just do nothing while waiting for his strength to return. He had to take breaks from spying on the rooms above. While he could do so with ease the space between himself and the areas of interest were far enough that it swiftly drained him. This not quite juggling of the cup helped calm his mind – the repetition could be compared to focusing on breathing for someone meditating. He would be able to return to his subtle eave-dropping soon, all the better as he was curious what the all-father had to say of this mortal – and hoped he wouldn't miss the interaction. His thoughts were of the amused variety with such interesting things happening – Asgard hadn't been nearly so fun to put the effort in until today.

He caught the cup, setting it to the side table then closed his eyes, head still propped on his left arm and then the pillow, his breathing now the topic of his attention.

"Don't force it, if you push too much on the strings of the tapestry the magic will shatter – spell weaving takes a delicate touch." It was one of his first lessons, one of the most important. It was a wonderful base rule for many things in life. Also, why he assumed Thor never showed a lick of talent for the art. He could remember his mother's lessons clearly enough even to this day. His memory had always been keen, if occasionally selective. He pushed the images away, disquiet would serve to unnerve his spell as surely too much power pressed into the threads of space. His breathing was shallow now, distant. He felt that moment of the lapsed darkness between consciousness and wakefulness before forcing his eyes to open.

He was near the medical ward, his dress showed him to be one of the youngest of the nurses. A brown eyed, average stature brunette with short curly locks. There were people hurrying toward one of the rooms so he walked after them. It was just as well he paused in one of the side halls for the servants. Loki knew he could trick Odin – he'd done so in the past easily enough – but always in person when it was far easier to pluck the threads that held the world together. From this distance he was content to listen in from outside. He blended well enough since two other nurses huddled with him to avoid the all-father's possible wrath.

"She is mortal. Illness is their defining trait." Odin was remarking – apparently Loki had gotten here just in time for a show. Who said rotting in jail couldn't still be entertaining?

"I brought her here because we could help her." Thor pandered to father far more readily since his exile.

"I wonder if the mortal is aware that father castrated you Thor." Loki idly pondered the insults couldn't risk speaking aloud.

"She does not belong here in Asgard anymore than a goat belongs at a banquet table." Odin dismissed Thor's slim hopes of saving his lady love.

"The hypocrisy hangs from you as clearly as the crimson of your cloak. What happened to the respect you demand I possess for these mortals when you stuck me in a cell?" Loki kept his expression schooled despite a desire to scowl at the all-father's remark. It was clear Odin had no more respect for the human's than Loki – perhaps less.

"Did he just..." The mortal spoke up for herself without Thor having to, the remark earned a tiny smirk. "...who do you think you are?"

"Pity it's Thor who's grown attached, I can appreciate that level of gall."

"I am Odin, King of Asgard, Protector of the Nine Realms." He spoke to entertain a child's whim, there may have been a grudging politeness but no respect.

"You could just kill her, it's clear you would like to from the tone in your voice."

"Oh..." The girl sounded surprised – he supposed it would be a shocking revelation for a mortal. "Well I'm..."

Odin interrupted her, his patience was already wearing thin. "I know very well who you are; Jane Foster."

"You told your dad about me?" A girlish delight entered her voice.

"Don't get your hopes up, it isn't as if you could ever have a future here. Or do, it'll be that much harder for Thor when he loses you."

The woman next to him murmured an apology after bumping into him for a short second, it was disorienting – keeping up illusions that held physical form were incredibly difficult even for his mother. His mind was reeling as he nodded a silent accent to the words, hoping to settle it before the sudden draw on his energy shattered his spell. It was a brief bump – if someone had tripped fully into him he wouldn't have been able to keep it up at all – it would have shattered as many spells in the past. If it wasn't for his clandestine hopes he wouldn't have put the energy into keeping it in place at all.

Thor was trying to give some excuse, that was waved away and then his father announced to the guards that she would return to Midgard. Walking swiftly away was on Loki's mind when the pulse of energy happened. The crimson and black essence curled even around the corners of the hall. Past where it blasted back the guards and made others cover their faces to hide from it. His illusion, his own mind and magic, felt settled - suddenly stronger as a result of the black power.

"Now, what is this? Who could have thought I would find something so interesting..." Loki's attention refocused, he risked peeking around the corner.

Odin walked up to look at the mortal laying on the dias, a hand tracing over her skin – barely pulling the energy contained within to the surface so he could see it for himself. "That's impossible..."

They continued to speak but Loki wasn't interested. He knew all too well what it was that ran within the girl's veins. Another of the infinity stones, he'd utilized the Tesseract and it had the same feel – albeit more sinister. The Aether was a far less forgiving master, even from this distance Loki could hear it calling out to him – searching for a master worthy of it.

Loki slipped away from the other listening women as Odin asked Thor and the mortal to follow him – he had gotten a small piece of the Aether's power when it had defended itself but it wasn't enough. Into a closet the image went, and far beneath the city green eyes opened. He laughed outright, not a single time, but a small fit of mirth that went deep into his belly. This girl had brought with her a treasure even Odin, with all his gifts for clairvoyance, could not have foreseen.

Getting the mutating aether out of her would be another matter entirely. They would require someone versed in not only magic but the void. He doubted they were even aware that Loki knew how to extract the essence within her. Not that he would volunteer himself – the aether was an unforgiving master – it drew on the life force of it's hosts as a parasite until it ate them completely before moving to the next. Harnessing that power without being consumed by it was a risk even he wouldn't take short of a last resort. Still, if he could somehow steal a portion of it – as a piece of the Tesseract had been stolen to form it's spear – then he could command it without that pesky side effect.

Today was turning out to be his best day back on Asgard yet. He lifted the cup to return to his not quite juggle, considering new paths. He just had to figure out how to escape his cell. The light's in the prison flickered then and an eyebrow rose before he just as quickly dismissed his past time in favor of moving to look at what was happening outside. Was Asgard under attack?

- - - ooooo - - - ooooo - - - ooooo - - - ooooo - - - ooooo - - - ooooo - - - ooooo - - -

Jane was sitting in a room, settled on a couch and feeling quite ill at ease after the days events. How had she gone from the wonder and glorious beauty of Asgard to this in such a short period?

She'd been hiding – it was the only thing she could do at the time – she hated it but she would have been more of a liability just wandering the halls. She wasn't some dark race of elves or an Asgardian – either of their weapons would have as easily torn off her limbs as if she was made of wet paper. She couldn't really do much more than that. The sounds had begun to die down now but she could hear the muffled voices in the nearby room.

Jane couldn't know what was happening from her small dark closet, but when Frigga told her to remain in this little piece of false wall for her own safety Jane couldn't argue. It was where she stood with bated breath until she heard Thor's scream – felt the lightning set the hairs of her arms on end. She didn't hear anything after that – other than the distant squeal of the emergency alarms wailing in the distance. Peeking from the darkness she took a few steps to round a corner, her breath catching in her throat. On the floor is where Frigga lay, Odin over her but she wasn't moving. Jane could tell she had to have been killed almost immediately – particularly with the pained expression on Thor's face.

How could she have let Frigga die protecting her? Jane felt wretched about what had come to pass, sure she didn't want to be kidnapped but this wasn't an option she would have picked. When someone came to offer her food she shook her head. "I'm not hungry."

The clatter as the man fell to the floor a moment later – knocked out from Sif's attack, left Jane wide eyed. "Good, come with me."

Jane couldn't exactly argue so she followed Sif, glancing the unconscious guard nervously as she moved. "What, what's going on?"

"Thor has devised a plan to escape with you." Sif replied, pausing as they turned a corner and in front of her she found Odin.

"I should have known." Odin remarked, his guards advancing as Sif froze. Clearly the warrior woman hadn't expected this. "I know you are loyal to Thor Sif, but this is treason. Give up your weapon, guards, put her in the dungeon."

Sif seemed to consider resisting, but Odin being present made her second-guess that inclination – she handed her sword to the guards and lowered her head as they lead her away.

"You will go to the dungeon's as well." Odin said after Sif and her entourage had rounded the corner. "This is not personal Jane Foster, but we must keep this war on our own shores. Whatever feelings Thor has for you are irreverent in this, guard's put her with Loki – then find the rest of this uprising and put it down. We don't have time for this nonsense."

"Wait, put me with who?" Jane tried to call back over her shoulder but she was already being drug away and Odin wasn't listening.

End Chapter

As stated, couldn't get this out of my head so I sat and wrote it out. I definitely like what I have plotted in my brain and hope my readers will enjoy it as well. This fiction will be continued as my muse allows but I still want to finish up the Art of War before I get too far into it.

-Aura