The throne room was full; it felt to Loki as though all of Asgard was there that day, to watch his father pass on the mantle of power. He stood to one side of the throne, resplendent in his robes, beside his brother. Thor's smile was cocky, as usual, but Loki knew better. They were both nervous on this day. Odin had been reticent in who he would name to succeed him on the throne of Asgard, but both young men had been brought up to rule. He had told them, on numerous occasions, that they were both meant to rule. Loki had long wondered what this was supposed to mean-they couldn't both rule-and today was the day that wondering would finally be put to rest.

He glanced across the dais at his mother, Frigga, who looked back and smiled warmly. She was always a source of comfort and strength to him. While Thor had enjoyed dalliances with various ladies of the court, Loki had only ever found the feminine company of his mother to be a pleasure. True, the young women fawned over him almost as much as his brother, but they held no interest for the younger prince. He was content with his magic, his books, and the occasional prank on his brother. Speaking of whom, Thor was making subtle (and not-so-subtle) winks and gestures to some of the ladies in the front row of nobles. Loki rolled his eyes, then caught Frigga's admonishing stare. Chastised, he lowered his gaze and cleared his throat, elbowing Thor in the back to get his attention.

"Can you control yourself just this once?" he hissed under his breath.

Thor favored him with a lopsided grin. "Why, Loki, are you jealous?"

Loki sighed and rolled his eyes again. Thor simply chuckled, pleased to have gotten under his brother's skin.

A moment later, a fanfare arose and the huge, gilded doors at the other end of the room opened. Odin stepped forth in all his glory, staff in hand, and walked confidently toward the dais. He spared not a glance for his sons or his wife, but took his seat on the throne and addressed the whole assembly.

"There comes a time in every king's life when he knows to pass the reins of power to one with an eye to the future-casting off the shackles of the past in favor of a brighter tomorrow. My two sons" he indicated the princes, who unconsciously stood a little taller, "have grown before the gaze of Asgard. They have earned their place in your world, in your hearts, and in this throne room.

"No father likes to choose between his children, for to elevate one inevitably forces the other to feel less. This was never my intention with my sons." He beckoned them forward. Thor and Loki moved in tandem, standing before the throne and kneeling before their father.

"However, this is not the decision of a father-but of a king. And as a king, I must name a successor. It is my wish that Thor shall take the throne in my place…"

Loki did not hear much after that; his ears and head rushed with a flush of humiliation and anger. Righteous indignation seethed through him as he thought back to a childhood of promises-promises now broken-and tried very hard not to let his mental glare show on his face. He did not dare look to Frigga now, or he might break. Her eternal tenderness toward him would be more than he could take right at that moment.

The rest of the ceremony was lost on the young prince, who conducted himself through a haze of indifference-his strongest defense-and tried to ignore the growing disappointment in his chest, a feeling that ached like nothing he had ever felt before.

When the formalities were concluded, Loki excused himself from the following festivities and stalked the halls, headed down into the catacombs where he could find some peace and solitude. He did not have it for long, however, as Frigga soon found him.

"I thought you might be down here," her voice reached him before the sound of her footfalls did.

Loki jumped in surprise, whirling and drawing out two hidden daggers on pure instinct before realizing it was his mother. When he saw that it was she, he sheathed the daggers and muttered an oath under his breath. Frigga's eyebrow arched in disapproval, and Loki was cowed.

"I didn't realize it was you, Mother. I am sorry."

"As well you should be. Such language… Very unbecoming of a prince." She chided him, though she smiled.

"Prince!" He spat the word in disgust. "Fat lot of good that title does me now! Am I to be Thor's lackey for the rest of my life? Always following after him, picking up the scraps he leaves behind?"

Frigga was taken aback, but only for a moment. "Loki, you have many talents. Your father knows this. You are a crowned prince of Asgard, the same as your brother before you. But…"

"But?" Loki looked at her, suspiciously. He had learned many tricks from Frigga over the centuries, not the least of which was subterfuge. "If you have something to say, Mother, say it. I'm not in the mood for games."

Frigga sighed in resignation. "It is high time you knew, anyway. Your father won't like it, but he certainly won't be the one to tell you, so I suppose that falls to me. Come." She beckoned him and walked further into the catacombs, toward Odin's museum of treasures. Loki, overcome with a sense of trepidation mixed with curiosity, followed.

Frigga passed through the museum, barely glancing at the trophies collected there, and led Loki down into the dungeon. She whispered a few words to the guard on duty, who reluctantly stood aside and let them pass. Taking a torch from the wall, she walked confidently through the dungeon to the last cell, motioning Loki to come stand beside her. He did, peering into the darkened cell, unable to see anything at first.

After a moment, the torchlight found its quarry. An ice giant, nearly 9 feet tall, sat in one corner of the cell. Loki gasped and drew his daggers, but Frigga put a hand on his arm, shaking her head.

"He will not harm us, my son. He is here as a prisoner of war, and we will not harm him. He has something to show you." She whispered.

Putting her hand up to the force field around the cell, she murmured the incantation and the field dissipated. She set the torch in the wall slot inside the cell and put her hand out to Loki, to lead him in. He took it with some hesitation, and stepped up onto the platform.

The ice giant did not move at first, then turned its head to face them. Its gaze took in Frigga first, then moved to Loki behind her, and it smiled.

"Ah, you have finally brought him to me." The giant said in a low, booming voice. Even speaking in low tones, Loki could feel the vibrations of its voice ripple through him like stones rolling down a hill.

"It is time, Laufey." Frigga said, bringing Loki further into the cell. Loki's stomach tightened-time for what, exactly, he wondered to himself.

The ice giant nodded solemnly and held out his hand to Loki, who recoiled in disgust. Frigga took his arm and placed it firmly in the giant's grasp, who gripped him tightly around the wrist. Before Loki could shake free, knowing full well that anything an ice giant touches turned to ice and panicking a little at the prospect, the scales on his regalia armor shivered off his arm, shattering on the stone floor in a million shards of frozen nothingness. His arm began to turn blue and then-nothing. He looked down, and his arm was returning to normal, though Laufey still held his wrist in a deathly strong grip.

"What-what was that?!" Loki stammered, staring down at his uninjured arm as Laufey released him and leaned back into the shadows.

"Would you like to know what makes you different, Loki? Why your father chose Thor instead of you for the throne?" Frigga asked, a hard edge to her voice that Loki had never heard before. He nodded. "Then ask Laufey, here. He holds the keys to your past, and quite possibly, your future."

Without another word, Frigga stepped lightly out of the cell and walked back up the corridor of the dungeon.