In a little nook of an antechamber among Asgard's halls, the Fifty Third Ambassador of The Sect of Atarinncerion sat in seeming mediative contemplation. The middle of her forehead was branded with the mark of her commitment and her robes, adorned with the marks of her people and her faith, were elegant in shape yet gaudy in their colour. Beside her, reading a book, was her young assistant, his robes plain but the brand on his forehead was clear to see. The Ambassador's eyes were closed, her focus was on her hearing and the implants which afforded her more auditory prowess then most could ever imagine. It has been a game at first, breaching the mystical defenses of Asgard that was built into the very walls, the very air. It was difficult, just as she had been told, but unexpectedly worthwhile as she listened to the events in the hall.

"We are not Gods, we are born, we live, we die, just as humans do."

"Give or take five thousand years."

That was Odin, and - she almost smiled – Loki. Listening in to the guards and to the convocations in the hall, it seemed that the younger prince had strayed, to the anger of the King. No matter.

"All this, because Loki desires a throne."

"It is my birthright."

"Your birthright was to die, as a child, cast out onto a frozen rock. If I had not taken you in, you would not be here now to hate me."

Oh. Her eyes snapped open and her senses withdrew from the hall. Well, that was unexpected! She then cursed herself silently as the breach in Asgards hidden defenses sealed themselves behind her. Closing her eyes she attempted to refocus and retrace her steps only to pull back again shortly after as many footsteps sounded through her implant. Opening her eyes and standing in a casual stretch, she walked the few paces out of the antechamber in time to see Loki, chained and surrounded by guards, as he was led away.

Such interesting news! So, Loki was not the natural born son of the King and Queen? Was he even Asgardian? She wondered if this would impact on their plans and lamented not knowing of this sooner.

'Well,' she thought to himself as she finally allowed herself to smile. 'at least we know where one of them will be. A shame that that place would be the dungeon; that had not been foreseen, but no matter...' Aloud she said, still smiling, "Hail the Mother who Comes."

Behind her, in the antechamber, her assistant glanced up from his book. "Hail she who will make the universe anew." He responded softly.

###

Evening had come in Asgard and Thor dined alone. After having delivered Loki for Odin's judgement he had been sent to the healing chambers despite his protests and expressed wish to be present when Odin saw Loki. His hand strayed to his side, his mind flashing yet again to the roof of Stark tower. There was not even a scar and yet he could still feel it. It was all in his mind, he knew, and he knew why too: Loki. After Loki dropped him from Shield's carrier he had paused, the warrior at war with the brother within him. In the midst of the Chitauri invasion there was no time to pause, to think. Loki had turned on him.

Now he paused again, emotionally exhausted and torn. His food was unfinished, his clothes were plain and his hair barely groomed after his wash. A year ago it had never really sunk in, when Loki sent the Destroyer after him. What was one incident compared to a thousand years of companionship and brotherhood? Then the grief had come, washing away all but a persistent gnawing thought in the back of his mind: What had happened? What had gone so very wrong? The revelation of Loki's adopted status had been difficult to hear and he supposed it explained some of the issue, but not all, surely. Loki had not been raised a frost giant, after all, but as one of them, as his brother. Didn't that count for something?

A shadow, Loki had said. A shadow of Thor's 'greatness'. Loki's words had been buzzing in the back of his mind since he said them. At first Thor had dismissed it, believing that Loki was not himself, that he was being influenced somehow. But, as time had gone on, he had started to wonder. Till the other year, he had never questioned how things were between himself and his brother - it was what it was. He, Thor, would take command while Loki concerned himself with intricacies. Once, he and some of the others had tried to push Loki to be more bold but all that came of it was some admittedly entertaining pranks at their expense which grew less pleasant as time wore on, so in the end they gave up. Loki was Loki, shadowy and tricky and there would be no changing that.

But since the other year he had wondered... Had he been too careless, too arrogant in his treatment of his brother? On Earth he had compared Asgardians, and himself by extension, to Bilgesnipe. Had he been unwittingly doing the same oblivious stampeding where his brother was concerned? It was a difficult thought to wrap his head around, things had been the way they had been for so long – all his life - and he knew nothing else.

A knock sounded on his door. Not moving or turning his head, Thor called out, "Enter."

A servant stepped into the room. "Sire, the Lady Sif and the Warriors Three requested you join them in the tavern."

Thor nodded, not looking at him and after a moment, the servant left. A beat later and Thor snorted softly to himself. He was almost surprised they hadn't come to get him themselves. Dragging himself from his chair he moved to change into something marginally more serviceable. Yes, he was tired, but for his friends he could spare a couple of hours.

###

The Ambassador watched the servant walk by as her assistant vanished around the corner, heading towards the dungeons. She glanced down at the withered body of the palace guard tucked behind the pillar by her feet, the large brand on his forehead creeping over his temples and towards his cheekbones. He was honored to be the first Asgardian to be sent into the embrace of the new Mother, it was only a pity he would never appreciate that. It was also a pity that the princes could not have that honor, as should have been their right, but Loki's incarceration had not been foreseen and was not part of their original plan. They had needed the information.

She turned her gaze to the direction of Thor's chambers. That part of the palace was forbidden to her, but not to servants baring messages. It was - the small problem of the dungeons aside - all too easy.

###

Somewhat more presentable now, Thor made his way down the corridor. Though his appearance was better, his spirits were not. He was taking some consolation that at least now they were sure that Loki was not dead. At the moment, he refused to acknowledge the small part of his mind that wondered if that was such a good thing given how Loki had been in Midgard.

Stepping into the early night air beyond the palace, he let the hustle and bustle, the normalcy of Asgard, sooth him. As it was now, as it had been for a millennium, this was home.

"Oof!"

Thor stepped back as a small robed woman bumped into him, almost knocked to the floor by the impact. "I am sorry! Forgive me, I was not watching where I was going. My mind was elsewhere." He placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her as she regained her bearings and took in the details of her robes. "My sincerest apologies, Ambassador."

She smiled up at him, "Oh, it is no worry, sire." Then taking his hand in hers in a firm grip she said, "May the Mark of the Mother guide you to her."

Thor hissed and yanked his hand from her grasp, his skin burning where she had touched him. "What did you just do?!" He snarled, the burning becoming an itch that was spreading up his arm at an alarming speed. "What did you do?!"

She just smiled sweetly, silent, still and unflinching as Thor called Mjölnir and shouted for the guards. Even as she was restrained, the guard avoiding her skin at all costs at Thor's instruction, her face held onto that small smile. When Thor questioned her again she just replied to him "I will tell all to the King and only to him." And smiled wider.

###

The sun was shining high in the sky as the young boys sparred with training swords in the private gardens. Odin leaned against a great oak a few strides away while Frigga stood at the edge of the circle.

"You are over reaching, Loki. Mind your balance." She instructed as Loki stumbled when Thor parried his blow. Thor, seeing an opening and eager to impress, swung his sword around and smacked Loki square in his back, sending the slighter boy to the ground.

"Ow!"

Over by the tree, Odin snorted in slight amusement as Thor grinned triumphantly, holding his sword high in victory, "I win! Father, did you see?"

"Of course. Your form is still sloppy however, mind your off hand when you swing."

Thor nodded as Frigga crouched next to where Loki was still sat on the ground. "You are faster then him, you know."

Loki nodded and huffed slightly. She had told him this before and he still wound up in the dirt.

Frigga sighed and glanced up to where Thor had run up to Odin.

"Father! Show me what you did when you fought the frost giants on the ice mountain again? When you dueled with the huge one?"

Lowering her head to closer to Loki's ear so as not to be over heard, she said "Remember our last lesson?"

Loki perked up instantly. "Yes… but I haven't mastered that yet."

"It doesn't matter." She smiled. "He wont expect it."

"It's… it's against the rules, isn't it?"

She winked at him. "Do you think that has ever stopped me? When the real fighting happens, who survives? The person who fights by the rules, or the person who does whatever they can to win?"

Loki's eyes snapped open, a plain white ceiling above him, the light permeating everything, allowing nothing to be hidden. It took him a moment to get his bearings, then he remembered; He was in the dungeon.

It was that memory again. A memory that, like an abandoned dog, his mind kept straying back to. It was a happy memory at first glance but it held so many things which, over the course of his life, would wear on him, most especially of late.

He sat up from where he was laying on the ground, the bare box of his cage holding no interest what so ever, which of course was part of the punishment. A thought occurred to him; Why had the dream stopped? Usually it carried on further.

He stood up, eyes narrowed and walked to the force field at the edge of his cell. Two guards walked past on their regular patrol, the few prisoners in the cells opposite his own were asleep but something was not right. Something in the air…

Asgard had many hidden, subtle defenses that few knew about. It's sorcerers knew many, the King knew them all and he had once been King…

"I know you are there." He said lowly to the space in front of his cell. There, a sound… bare feet on stone. "Show yourself."

"Not yet…" A soft male voice answered.

"What do you want?" Loki spoke quietly, curious and conscious of the patrolling guards.

Footsteps approached and two more guards rounded the corner. As they passed by Loki's cell suddenly they both dropped to the ground like puppets with their strings cut. Their eyes were still open, their skin pale and they had no sign of breath. They looked dead.

"How did you do that?" Loki asked in a tone of curiosity.

He stepped back, almost startled, as a hand-print appeared crackling on the field at the edge of his cell. It pressed inwards slightly, the field stretching and hissing in protest. A second hand-print appeared next to it.

"You will be coming with me. You have been given a new purpose, Loki, son of Odin." The hands reached forwards into the cell as a face pressed itself into the field above them. "For the mother who will transform the universe, you have been chosen."

Loki's eyes narrowed.