"Son of light

Born into darkness

Raised by a family that did not share his blood

Grown in a world, not his own

Trapped by love

He can never escape his fate

Killed in love

Despised in hate."

He was born a blind Light-Elf on the realm of Alfheim, he had no idea whom his parents actually were, he was taken from his home when he was naught but a child. They just gave him away, a spoil of war, to be claimed by King Odin from the realm of Asgard. The King swept him into his arms and took him away to live in Asgard with his sons. Sons, that were too old to be children anymore and left him well enough alone. Because of his native blindness, he found it hard to adjust to the new world he'd been thrust head-first into. They wouldn't call him by his given name, Lęyonhēilemnùhi, instead they called him by the Asgardian name, Höðr. They took everything from him, they stripped him of his name, of his home, and of his family. These Asgardians didn't even like him. He didn't have to be able to see to feel the way that they stared at him, with his silvery hair, slanted eyes and pointed ears. He could already tell that they didn't look like him, that he didn't belong in their world and how he wished that he could go back to his.

-TimeSkip-

"Höðr!"

Thor whipped his head around in worry, he had just turned around for five minutes, just to speak to Sif whom had approached him while he was watching Höðr. Now, the blind child was gone and it was all his fault. He had expected the young boy, just the physical age of a seven year old human, to be sitting in the garden, smelling the flowers and running his fingers over them with feather-light touches. But he wasn't and Thor searched around desperately for a familiar hint of silvery hair and the emerald green robes that would remind the child of Alfheim. He saw nothing and Thor felt his heart clench in worry. Loki was going to kill him, if he heard that Thor had lost Höðr yet again. Höðr and Loki had a very strong bond, maybe even stronger than that between he and Thor. The young Light-Elf would sit upon Loki's lap for hours, just listening to the sorcerer speak.

"Brother?"

Thor froze as he heard a familiar, childish and accented voice, along with a tiny, pale-skinned hand clutching at his cape. Thor was a man, but his youngest brother was still barely a babe, sure he was blessed with wisdom beyond his age but his form was slighter and smaller than some who were only half his age, if that. His long silvery hair hung like a curtain braid down his back and hung in thin strands over his sightless blue eyes and his lithe, long little fingers were intwined in the fabric of Thor's red cape. Thor couldn't help the immense relief that flooded his body and made his limbs go weak as he reached down and scooped up the elven child to press a gentle kiss to his brow.

"Höðr! You had me worried, Little one."

The small elven child looked horrified at the mere suggestion that he had caused one of his beloved older brothers, grief. He hurriedly wrapped his small, twig-like arms around Thor's neck to return the gentle kiss and nuzzle Thor's neck with his nose. Thor's brow then furrowed in worry as he noticed the way that the young elf gingerly held his right wrist and the dried tear tracks that stained the young one's face.

"I am sorry, dear Brother."

"Tis alright, child. Are you alright? Are you hurt? Let me see."

Thor gently set the child down and he got into a sitting position, before drawing the child to him again, letting him sit before trying to examine the young elf's wrist. But when Thor's exceedingly gentle hands tried to pry the wrist away from its position against Höðr's chest. The little boy let out an involuntary whimper and a small and muffled, wail of pain. Something that worried the Thunder god exceedingly and he gave the small elf a stern look as he looked at the obviously broken wrist of the child. What had happened to the poor child? What mischief could the blind elf have gotten into?

"What have you done, Little Brother?"

"...they don't like me, Brother."

Thor's heart clenched in sadness at the broken tone of his little brother's voice. It sounded desolate and broken in a way that Thor knew he would never be unable to repair. Thor knew that the Asgardian children did not take kindly to Höðr, they would ostracize him, call him names, but he never thought that any of them would ever dare to lay a hand on a young Prince of Asgard, even if it wasn't by birth. Apparently, he was wrong.

"They hurt me. They said that I don't belong in Asgard with you, Father, Mother and Kee. Am I different?"

"You are a Light-Elf, you know that Höðr. But you are always our brother, and you are always going to be Mother and Father's son."

Thor sighed and his fists clenched in anger, he hated what those vile children had done to his baby brother. They would pay, but not now, not when his little one needed a healer to tend to his wrist. Thor shivered at the thought of what Loki would say, the one that Höðr called 'Kee'. To Loki, their younger brother was like the sun and the moon. Loki loved him. Höðr was the only one who would sit with Loki for hours on end, just listening to the sorcerer as he spun tales of faraway kingdoms, of kings and queens, of mountains and lush green landscapes. Loki would describe them so vividly that Höðr could pretend he could actually see them. Thor knelt down and swept his baby brother into his arms as they headed back to the palace, only to watch as Loki came into view, sitting on the steps of the palace, reading one of the old, dusty tomes that he loved so much. Waiting for them no doubt.

"Loki is here, Little one."

"KEE!"

Höðr bellowed and grinned, though he made no effort to exit Thor's embrace or to let go of his cradled wrist. Loki set down his book and leapt to his feet, expecting Höðr to run, stumbles and all and hug him once he'd found his way, just as he usually did, but when no hug came, Loki hurriedly walked towards them. His worry grew with every step he took. The little elf was too haggard, too pale to be healthy and the tears stained that marred his cheeks and the way he cradled his wrist, did nothing to alleviate Loki's fears. Once the sorcerer had reached them, he simply plucked Höðr from Thor's arms and deposited him in his. But when he accidentally jostled the child's injured wrist, the elven child let out a screech of pain, fresh tears bubbling in his eyes. Loki looked horrified at the child's cry and he took in the obviously broken wrist and sent a petrifying glare in Thor's direction.

"What is the meaning of this?"

He growled as he curled Höðr protectively into his chest, but protecting him from what, Loki had no idea. Thor looked as if someone had kicked him in the chest as he slowly explained to Loki. But by the end of the explanation, Loki was absolutely livid.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY BEAT HIM UP?! WHERE WERE YOU THOR? MISTER HIGH AND MIGHTY PRINCE? YOU WEREN'T THERE AND THAT'S THE REASON THAT HE GOT HURT! YOU'RE SUCH AN IDIOT!"

Loki shrieked at the top of his lungs and Thor looked as if someone had kicked him yet again and slapped him across the face. He truly deserved everything he got. But Loki stopped fuming at Thor when he heard Höðr's small voice.

"I'm sorry, Kee. It was my fault, don't be mad at Brother."

Loki just shushed the child gently and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, tasting the salt of he child's fresh tears of his lips.

-TimeSkip-

Höðr Odinsson slowly ran his hand over the golden prison that undoubtably housed his older brother, Loki. Loki was just like him now, not of Asgard, how odd that he had never sensed it before, Höðr was the god of winter after all. He should've know that his beloved Kee was a frost giant, a Jotun. But he still couldn't understand why his brother had attacked Midgard, a race of innocent, helpless creatures? Why? Just because Thor had made friends there? Why did he have to take his anger out on their world? They were not gods, not like them. So why try and take them over? Loki had always been there, always been a pillar of strength and wisdom, now Höðr didn't know what to think anymore. Gone was the young elven child who couldn't see to find his place. He was a grown man, Prince Höðr Odinsson of Asgard, the Elven Prince. He did not need to stand in the shadow of Loki's strength any longer. But it did not stop him from missing him.

"Brother? Are you in there?"

Höðr whispered, listening for some sound, for some indication that his brother was alive and well inside the golden cell that had been erected for him. Finally, he heard the sound of footsteps shuffling towards the front of the cell, nearing Höðr.

"Why are you here, Höðr? To gloat on Thor's behalf?"

When Loki spoke to him, his voice was as cold as ice, something that had never happened to him before. The Loki he knew would never have spoken like that to him. The Loki he knew had loved his younger brother, Loki used to make him feel so special, so important to him and to Asgard. Loki was the reason and he had grown to be proud of his heritage, so why was Loki doing this to him? Loki used to love him. What had happened to him on Midgard?

"Can't a brother be concerned?"

"THOR IS NOT MY BROTHER!"

Loki snarled, Höðr couldn't see his face but he assumed that Loki's face was twisted in anger, something he had never seen. But he had imagined on his brother's face many a time. Something that had never been directed towards him, however. But now it was. And Höðr felt his heart clench as the true impact of Loki's words really dawned on him.

"Does that mean that I'm not your brother either? What happened to you, Kee? You used to be everything."

"People change, Höðr. You were never my brother. Just a prize that father won. You are nothing."

Those words cut deep, and Höðr cursed the tears that bubbled in his eyes, he was a grown elf now, he didn't cry. That's when he felt the regret coming off of the God of Mischief in waves. Loki opened his mouth, tried to explain but Höðr just turned on his heels and left, ignoring the tears that pooled in his eyes and scurried down his pale cheeks. It seemed like that was the only thing his sightless eyes were good for.

Making tears.

-TimeSkip-

Thor was on Midgard when it happened, when the Dark Elves laid siege to Asgard. Höðr held his Mother's body as her life ebbed away and then his Father as a Dark Elf thrust a spear into his stomach. Höðr ran, he didn't care what else happened, he had already lost his last home, now his family was gone, his new home destroyed. He had nothing left, so they young blind elf ran, the Dark elves paid no mind to him. He must've looked enough like them, to pass for one of their people, the thought merely sickened him. He didn't know how it happened, but he ended up in the Bifrost, set his hands on the abandoned sword that Heimdall had left and closed his sightless eyes. Praying that he somehow got to Midgard. That's when he felt a tugging sensation behind his naval. And his already dark world...got darker as he slipped into unconsciousness.