A/N: As always, a disclaimer that no character or place here is of my own creation aside from Charlotte and the general creative license taken with the Marvel Universe as a fan-fic writer. I have had this idea in mind for a little over a year, so I have been working on and off with writing and revising. I have a few chapters in reserve, and I hope to find a "groove" in the writing and updating of this story. So, please drop a review, if you feel so inclined. I have been honing my style for some time now, and it is easy to forget how the work may sound to a new audience.

All Tales Begin With A Grand Entrance:

(On Loki) "He was not a god, but the son of a Giant, and wherever he came trouble followed." - Edith Hamilton's Mythology

When the Allfather called the prisoner in, he tried to block out the muffled sob of his wife and queen. He was grateful that the noise had not echoed through the cavernous hall. It would feel out of place in the room finely detailed in gold and pale marble. It was, traditionally, a space for welcoming heads of state and other-worldly dignitaries; it presented the wealth of Asgard and the sophistication of the Protector of the Realms. This day, however, the marble looked sickly and the skylight did not reflect off the gold in a way that spoke of power.

Frigga's empathy, though well-placed due to her relationship with the man being escorted to the dias, was not welcome in the court of Odin. And it was a court: the space now served as arena for judge, jury, and executioner.

Guards led the dark figure forward, chains linked to cuffs around his ankles, wrists, hips, and neck. It was as if even a twitch from his body could spell disaster to those around him. The Protector of Realms decided that was truly possible; he had seen the destruction from the eyes of Heimdal and the accounts his son brought back from Midgard.

Loki of Jotunheim had seemed to snap his fingers and bring death.

When the young man had come as close as was deemed safe, he halted and brought his ankles together in a mock salute. He laughed, a sardonic smile splitting his face.

"I really don't see what all the fuss is about." Ah, there was the Loki that Odin knew. He felt more than saw Frigga deflate. If she would only acknowledge the folly of her devotion, Odin knew his wife would not be as pained as she was in this moment.

Odin reprimanded the pretender and liar, insulted when the man insinuated a connection between them. "We are not gods!" Odin practically spat back to Loki, knowing righteous anger would not sway him. Odin even wondered if eternal incarceration would bring Loki back from the brink upon which he sat. "Why do you insist on violence?" Odin was not expecting an answer, but he asked all the same. Frigga's defeat must have pervaded Odin's heart, and he sat back further in the grand throne.

"I was lied to, made to think I was born to be a king." The sneer marred his handsome features.

"So you harm those who would otherwise need your protection?" A plan was forming in Odin's mind. He adjusted his grip on Gungnir and Loki, perceptive as ever, slightly shifted his weight in preparation. The accused did not respond, only licked his lips in preparation for a well-timed rebuttal. "Perhaps you must learn that rulers must also serve," Odin began. "That lesson will not come if you are hidden away." Odin saw Loki stiffen, saw the network of his brain making connections. Fists clenched, enlarging tapered wrists encircled by cool metal.

"You are not as skilled as I am in the art of rhetoric. If you have something to say, Allfather, I wish you would say it." His mouth took on a disgusted twist. "If I am for the axe, then, for mercy's sake just...swing it." Odin saw the resignation in his eyes, heard Frigga's sharp intake of breath. No, too much desecration and death had occurred. It was time for bridge building.

"I have made my decision." Odin sat up, even leaning forward. "Loki, you are to be exiled from Asgard. Thor shall take you from here to a place where you will aid others in the rebuilding and protecting of their realm."

Loki surged forward in outrage. The guards held him back, but just barely. Their knees locked and the sound of scraping metal chain links echoed. "You are sending me there, to a place filled with those who would see me dead?" He barked out a laugh. "How merciful, indeed. Thor and his precious team will have me destroyed the moment I arrive."

Frigga tugged at her fingers, turning toward her husband pleadingly. "Is this really the best course of action," she whispered so softly only Odin could hear her question the Allfather. Odin simply nodded his head. She sighed, resigning herself.

"Thor will send word before your arrival, offering both your services and his to those with whom he has aligned himself. We will not limit your magic, as it may prove useful where it has until now brought destruction. We will, however, ensure that any harm you inflict upon innocents will be exacted upon you ten-fold."

"Ah, using the royal 'we' when you do not have the power within you to follow through on your threat?"

"I do not have the power, but Frigga does." That fact forced Loki to drop his sneer. His eyes flickered to the one person for whom he had room in his heart. And he knew that her desire for his redemption would bring her to impose the stricture upon him. His breaths came less easily.

"And how long is this farce meant to last? We live for thousands of years while they are gone in a heartbeat."

"As long as is needed!" Loki cocked his head at that, wondering if the Allfather would truly hold the exile for decades.