A/N: This fan fiction does not strictly follow Norse mythology, the Marvel comics, or the Thor films.

We stood out in the cold
And your eyes, they ate my soul
Beg me to come back down

- Neon Trees, Farther Down

The mighty realm of Asgard was a glorious sight. Despite having spent most of his long existence there, Loki Laufeyson still found himself marveling at the massive structures and the skillfully crafted designs. A prince of Jotunheim, he was in the realm to visit an old friend and to see how the treaties were going with Muspelheim.

The fire demons were a fierce race, and with Thor Odinson a known hot-head and impulsive prince, his father, Odin, had decided it was best to have Loki by his son's side to assure that nothing would happen. Even Loki had silently agreed with the All-Father's decision when he'd read the letter, and had journeyed to the realm without hesitation. It was nice to be back in familiar surroundings and see open air, breathe the warmth of the sun, and hear the laughter of adults and children alike as he rode his horse towards the palace.

He wondered who would be waiting for him in the front courtyard: would Thor send one of his warrior friends, or would he come down himself to greet an old friend? Well, he was certain he would find out soon enough. He just hoped it wasn't…

"Prince Loki. Welcome to Asgard."

The smooth, seductive purr of Amora could be heard even above the noise that came from the city and the nearby practice arena, and her green dress rippled as she walked down the stone steps. Loki sighed as his horse came to a stop a few feet from her, though he made no move to dismount. Instead, he gripped the leather straps of the reins tightly, as if he planned to ride away at a moment's notice.

Amora was a beautiful Asgardian, knowledgeable in the art of magic and sorcery. There were many terms for what she was and what she could do, but "Enchantress" was one moniker that stuck to her over the centuries. Unknown to most, Loki and Amora had a rather torrid love affair two hundred years ago. Both being experts in magic, manipulation, and treachery, they had been drawn to each other like moths towards flame.

But this all ended the moment he learned of her attraction towards Thor. Trickster though he may be, he was not one for infidelity – actual or otherwise. His brotherly affection for Thor made his decision doubly firm, and it was only when he'd stepped back from the passion-induced haze their 'relationship' had given him did he see what she truly was. Frankly, she disgusted him.

But Amora was determined to have him back, and had tried all forms of magic to get him. It was only by casting a protective shield around himself did he protect her from her magical schemes of seduction. He thought her desire for him would wane overtime, but looking into her eyes, he could see it still burned with the same intensity. It was getting rather tiresome.

"Amora. Since when did you take over the more regal duties of the realm?"

Her smile was wide, yet sinister. "Oh come now, prince. Do you consider yourself that important to be granted an audience with the thunder god?"

"More important than you, apparently. I do remember a time when you asked to see him and you were refused. Blatantly."

All traces of mirth vanished from her face, and her eyes narrowed into slits. Loki simply regarded her with indifference, shifting his horse to the side so as to see her better. Finally she decided that throwing a fit wouldn't do her any good, and ended up adopting the same simpering smile she had on moments ago. Giving him a slight bow, she stepped back a few paces, though her eyes were on him.

Loki studied her for a few moments, finally dismounting, his boots thudding on the ground. One of the guards immediately stepped forward to claim the reins from him, and he moved further into the courtyard. As he passed Amora, he felt her hand clamp around his wrist. "Loki. What happened to us? We were so in love; what went wrong?"

"Surely you jest, Amora. Have you forgotten why I decided to leave you? Or do you continue feeding yourself the fantasy that what led to our fortunate separation was but a misunderstanding?" He looked at her, incredulous. He'd wondered whether she was insane or simply just an arrogant woman due to the praises she'd received over the years due to her skills, beauty, and mind control.

"Loki," was her almost pleading reply, but he would have none of it. Wrenching his wrist from her grasp, he turned away from her and walked up the steps, still feeling her eyes on his back. Oh what he wouldn't give to be fully rid of her…

"Loki!"

The trickster rolled his eyes skyward. How many times must I hear my name be shouted to the corners of the nine realms?

Thor strode down the hallway, his red cape swirling in the wind. His powerful warhammer, Mjolnir, was ever a constant presence by his side, and it glinted in the light as the thunderer approached. The grin on his old friend's face was contagious, and pushing any and all thoughts of the Enchantress from his mind, he allowed himself to be enveloped in Thor's embrace.

"It has been too long, Loki," Thor stated, clapping the Frost Giant on the back before pulling away. "But I am glad you are here. The fire demons don't stand a chance against the might of Asgard and Jotunheim."

"Indeed they don't. Surtur has overstepped his boundaries; Father is concerned of the growing threat of the fire demons in our own icy realm," Loki admitted. Laufey had been enraged the moment one of Surtur's demon allies had stepped inside Jotunheim, and had sent a barrage of Frost beasts to subdue the demon. Even Loki's own pet, Alfric, had joined the fray – the playful little beast had been the one to bring back the demon's head, much to his master's delight – and Surtur had stopped.

But they knew that the ruler of Muspelheim could be quite stubborn, and it would only be a matter of time before he would strike. This meeting of theirs was necessary, and not even the malevolent presence of Amora could dispel that. The two gods walked side by side into the throne room where Odin and Frigga were, flanked by a series of golden-armored guards. While the All-Father remained aloof, his queen stepped down from the platform and enveloped Loki in a warm embrace, which he returned.

"Loki. You look well," she commented, throwing Thor a warning look when he winked rakishly at her. The thunder god chuckled as he passed by both of them, stopping at the foot of the stairs that led up to the platform. "Come. I hope you stay with us longer, though if your own mother misses you…"

"I may be needed. The last attack was far too close to our homestead; Father wishes I be by his side for added reinforcements," Loki answered, regret tingeing his tone. He was fond of Frigga, who had been loving and kind whenever he visited. Add to that the fact that she was friends with his own mother – and had comforted her during her previous miscarriages – and she was like a second mother to him.

"Of course. Your skills have made you a valuable asset to your own kind." Another warm smile, and he excused himself from her presence to join Thor. Odin looked down at the two of them: a prince of Asgard and a prince of Jotunheim. Though his expression was unreadable, they could tell that he was anxious. Finally he stood, and almost automatically, the princes' postures straightened as well, as if copying the intensity of his presence.

"Surtur has declared war," he began, and the gravity of their situation was conveyed in those four words alone. "The treaties have been considered null; we must warn the rest of our allies and prepare for an invasion."

"Does Heimdall-"

"The fire demons will be here in a fortnight. That gives us enough time to prepare and spread the word to the rest of the realms."

"Even Midgard?"

Loki glanced at Thor, surprised. Midgard was considered one of the lesser realms, which was easily overlooked. Their lifestyle was archaic at best, and the inhabitants did not have the strength to challenge even Nornheim.

"Yes. It is under our care, and will be under yours, my son, the moment you become king. Loki, can the Jotuns be counted on?"

"Always, All-Father. My father and I remain your loyal allies."

"Good. Thor, make certain that the armies are ready, and send emissaries to the other realms. Surtur must be stopped and contained, at all costs."

Neither of the two princes need have asked what those 'costs' were. War among the nine realms came with casualties, and all for a few centuries' peace. But this was their way of life, their existence. They wouldn't have it any other way.

If there was only some way to assure peace without bloodshed, though I know one who enjoys the strife, he thought, turning from Odin and making his way out of the hall with Thor.

"Surtur will be crushed, banished within his own realm, Loki!" Thor exclaimed, grinning widely and twirling Mjolnir in his hands as they were joined by the Lady Sif and the Warriors Three. As always, Volstagg was gorging on a handful of berries, popping each in his mouth every so often. "And we will have peace within the nine realms. You and I. This is our chance!"

"Yes, but before we can actually beat him, we need to prepare," Loki stressed, reminding Thor of what the All-Father had asked of him. "Isn't there something you should be doing?"

Thor paused, before realization dawned on his face. "Ah. Yes. I'll meet you later for a round of drinks, aye?"

"Do I have a choice?" was Loki's amused reply, before turning in the opposite direction. He needed to send a message to his father about the All-Father's instructions, and he needed a quiet place to do this. The west wing of the palace had a perfect spot: a veranda that overlooked the waterfalls that cascaded down from the river running beneath the palace. This was where he'd practiced many of his magical abilities, and this was where he and-

No. Stop thinking about her. You've already gotten over your failed relationship with her haven't you?

The soothing sound of the running water, coupled with the dull hum that came from the buildings in the nearby man-made valley below, helped him focus, summoning a light blue orb where he whispered his message, finally letting it loose into the sky, watching it until it disappeared.

"Still talented as ever."

He turned, his lip curling as he saw Amora once more. She was a persistent witch, and her very presence was like an insult. Loki made a move to brush past her, but she blocked his way with her body, pressing herself against him. Breath hitching, he noticed her smile knowingly, as if she understood why he had reacted the way he did. But it wasn't because of desire; it was of disgust.

"Stop following me, Amora. You and I have ended our relationship long ago; do not make me-"

"Oh punish me, Loki. You know you want to. I remember you enjoyed our little trysts where you were-"

"I said enough!"

He grabbed her by her wrists, pushing her roughly away from him. She staggered backwards, tripping on the hem of her dress, which caused her to fall onto the floor. For a moment they looked at each other, green eyes on green. Loki was stunned by the sudden turn of events; he didn't intend for her to get hurt. He had just wanted her to leave him alone.

"How dare you!" she shrieked, her shrill cry carrying over to the streets below. "How. Dare. You!"

Each word she spoke was punctuated by an energy ball, which she'd flung at him as she stood. The force of the energy balls caused him to stagger back, until he was pressed against the edge of the veranda. Each hit left a throbbing bruise beneath his armor, making it hard for him to breathe.

"I loved you, Loki! I gave you everything! But why must you deny me thus?!" Amora raised her hand, and he summoned his own magic against his palm. They released their attacks at the same time, causing a massive explosion that took out chunks of the nearby pillar and the wall behind the Enchantress.

With Amora distracted, he darted towards the hallway, but she was too quick for him. Casting a binding spell, she dragged him back towards her, twisting him around so that he was on his back and looking up at her.

"I loved you," she hissed, planting her foot on his chest and pressing down at it, as if she was trying to crush his heart. "You'll pay for this, for everything. I didn't know you could hurt me…"

"I…didn't…"

"Lies! Oh you'll know what it feels like to be alone with nobody to love you, Loki! Oh yes you will."

For a moment she gave pause, and while the trickster tried all he could to counter her magic, she still held him firm. Finally she lowered herself onto him, straddling him, and whispering a few words that he understood.

Gods no, he thought, as he translated the spell.

But bound as he was, he could do nothing but look up into her eyes, those green eyes that carried loathing and desire. The effects of the spell were quick: a sudden shrinking, bones cracking and adjusting, and the creation of...fur.

Amora shrieked with delight when she saw him, minutes later, and in his new form, Loki shivered. What words he uttered in defiance against her actions came out as a series of whines and shrill barks, though his eyes were the same emerald, his fur the same deep black.

She had turned him into a wolf cub.

"Now don't you make the sweetest pet, Loki? Perhaps in such a form, you can learn what I felt after you left me! Cast out, ignored…"

Ignored? You had dozens of suitors!

"Do not interrupt me, my love. Unloved, exiled…oh. Exiled. Wouldn't that be delicious?"

No. Amora, we are at war with Muspelheim! You cannot-

"Stop telling me what to do! Yes, yes, I will exile you to that accursed realm. Midgard. Oh yes. But don't worry. I'll return for you. Then we can forget all of this, start over."

Go to Hel, Amora. May the fire demons consume you!

A cackle was her only response, and she made complicated gestures with her hand. The sight of her against the backdrop of Asgard was soon replaced by darkness, swirling darkness, and in his cub form, he whined. The sensation was replaced by a sudden jolt of pain on his feet and hands – paws? he thought – and he cried out. A soft whine, and then another.

Before he could even wonder where in Midgard he was, a shadow loomed over him, and he froze.

Jane Foster was unlike other little girls her age. In her spare time she watched the stars, tracing figures on the sky with her fingers, and helped her father in his shop that sold an array of magical amulets, healing herbs, and other curios that benefitted a well-known alchemist and healer of his age.

While her mother, Emily, had died giving birth to her, she wasn't the type to cry over someone whom she had never met. She had moments where she missed her mother, wished she had someone to talk to over how silly boys were being, but she could do that with her father, John. That was their life: John and Jane Foster against the world.

With her seventh birthday coming up, she had decided to visit the small stream where she spent hours drawing 'star maps'. It was on this day when she saw something – a dark mass – fall from the midday sky and into a clearing not far from the edge of the woods.

"Papa! Papa! Something fell!" she cried, turning towards the direction of her house, where John was skittering around, trying to catch the sunlight into the liquid he'd poured into a bottle; a new remedy for coughs. At the sound of her frantic cries, the bottle slipped from his hands, the contents spilling onto the soil. He let out an irritated hiss but dismissed it a second later.

"What is it?" he asked, joining his daughter. He noticed where she was looking at, and he frowned a little. Together they looked into the woods, Jane straining her ears for a sound – any sound.

And then it came.

Softly at first, and then louder.

The whining of a puppy, or an animal close to it.

"Papa, it might be hurt!" she tugged at John's hand insistently, looking up at him when he didn't move. "Papa!"

"Stay here. I'll see what's making the noise." He rested a comforting hand on Jane's shoulder, while taking out the amulet he'd made that protected him from evil spirits. Waving it in front of him, he soon disappeared beyond the trees, though the crunch of his footsteps could still be heard.

Silence.

Jane was about to call for him again when the sound of feet against dry leaves sounded, as well as the occasional snap of a twig. She smiled when she saw him again, and her eyes widened when she saw what he had in his arms.

A wolf cub.

It had black fur, dark as night, and its paws were tucked beneath it. It studied her warily, looking up at John and baring its teeth. But for some reason it didn't try to flee, but instead stared back at her with those thoughtful eyes.

Those thoughtful, green eyes.