Loki had a beautiful funeral, late one day in august, snow had fallen even though it was summer, the white snowflakes covering the many flowers looking like a thin sheet of lace, decorating Loki's final resting place. Speeches was held for the pale prince of Asgard as everyone was saying their last goodbyes to him. Everyone was present, except for Thor.

Thor sat in Loki's chambers; he couldn't stand being at the funeral, seeing Loki's resting face. Not when he felt the guilt coursing through his body, the anger mixing with the sorrow. He had done this, had made Loki take his own life.

"I am sorry brother-" he cried, his eyes red from crying, his face looking nothing like the happy oaf Loki used to call him.

"I am so very sorry-" his voice faltered and he buried his face in his hands, rocking back and forth.

The snow fell peacefully outside, as if nothing had ever happened. As if the house of Asgard hadn't been deprived of their second prince.

Loki was no longer among them.

Slowly everything turned back to normal, that was until Fandral returned, as if he had risen from the dead. But that, and following events, is an entirely different story.