A/N: Hi Guys. Thanks for your patience. I hope you like this update. It's mostly dialogue but I've got to set this up for the upcoming action. ;) Please let me know what you think in your reviews.

Chapter 2

He lay on his back, an arm tucked under his head.

He stared at the ceiling, his mind racing, his body still.

Crossing his long legs at his ankles he reached toward the nightstand and selected a ceramic paperweight. Tossing it in the air, he sighed heavily in silence catching the weight and tossing it again with nothing but the low ebb of the cell's power grid reaching his ears.

He suddenly stopped.

That feeling.

It wasn't foreign to him. In fact, it was very familiar.

It always started as a slight flutter.

He knew when his mother, the Queen, was near.

The feeling; the elation of a young insecure boy at his mother's affirmation felt deep within the pit of his stomach. That sense of joy at being accepted. Recognized.

Loved.

And Loki knew his mother was here. Even at this age. Even well into adulthood the simplicity of the nurturing relationship between mother and son was real, the feeling palpable.

Losing his composure he quickly schooled his features as the Queen materialized before him within his cell.

Standing in the center of his chambers, her soft blue gaze locked with his cold emerald ones. "Loki…," she said breathily.

He stubbornly clenched his jaw. "Mother."

Frigga gave a frustrated sigh and approached. "When are you going to give up this act, son?"

Tossing the weight in the air he quirked a brow, his eyes on the ceramic ball. "What act, Mother? I'm no thespian so I can assure you what you see is what you get," he sing-songed, the corner of his mouth curling into a mischievous smile as he continued with his play.

His mother pursed her lips, her gaze waxing sorrowful. "You feign apathy when you and I both know—"

He sat up sharply, "Know what?" he shouted angrily. "That that senile old man in the throne room cares nothing for me?" he stated pointing toward the ceiling. "That his title applies to everyone but me?" he offered palming his chest, "That he loves my brother with a love I can never hope to attain?"

Saddened, Frigga closed her eyes and took a deep breath, slowly opening them. "He is affectionately known as The All-Father yes," she stated, "And you are wrong." Locking gazes she stepped closer taking a seat by his boots. "He takes great pride in his sons and loves you both dearly," she implored. "Your father and I are baffled at the rage you so frequently display, Loki. Why do you treat him with such disdain?"

Lying back, he snorted. "So I suppose he sees himself as the victim in this dynamic?" he retorted, placing both arms behind his head. He stared at her, pensive. "Interesting."

Her gaze narrowed. "He is not a victim, son. "Your father—"

"Stop calling him that!" he growled, his emerald gaze now hard. "I've heard the rumors. I've been at court. I'm not stupid," he shot back. "Look at me!"

Frigga studied him.

"Look at me!"

Her gaze softened. "I am, my son."

"Pale skin. Dark hair. Green eyes," he rattled off, his eyes furious. "Illegitimate is the gossip of the day, Madame."

She flinched at the insult. "Are you calling your mother a whore?" she shot back, her steady blue gaze wincing slightly.

Loki's lips at first set in a thin angry line softened, his mouth falling open, his expression now contrite.

"I…"

"What?" she shot back, her misty gaze strong.

The anger towards his father inadvertently led him down this path; unwisely wounding his precious mother. He shifted his gaze to his boots and swallowed hard.

"That's not what I meant," he stated quietly.

Frigga quirked a brow. "Then what did you mean?"

Loki's gaze again met hers. "Odin—"

She knit her brow in disapproval, cutting him short. He sighed.

"Father," he drew out sarcastically, "has always favored Brother," he explained. "Thor is his exact likeness. His image. He even wields the power of his forefathers and what do I have?" he snorted. "A few paltry magic tricks and a dysfunctional golden staff," he stated bitterly.

Her gaze locked on his the Queen straightened. "Those so called magic tricks are the mystic treasures of your ancestors, Loki," she corrected sharply. "They were passed down the royal bloodlines and taught by tradition to the second son of the King. It is unfortunate that you show so little respect for them."

She stood gathering the long folds of her gown, her gaze drifting back to his. "Instead of indulging your rage take time to reflect on why you have grown so bitter, my son," she advised before stepping toward the grid. "You'll find that it is not we who have rejected you, but your own self."

At that, her image dematerialized.

Speechless, he clenched his jaw and in a fit of rage, hurled the ceramic weight against the wall shattering it to pieces.

"Brother?"

The younger man sat dejectedly on his bed, his elbows on his knees. His shoulders slumped he sighed rolling his eyes in exasperation.

"Yesss, Thor?"

The blond warrior approached the translucent grid, his blue gaze direct, his armor polished. He eyed him.

"I'm told you stole my image with the intention of acquiring corrodite whilst I dealt with our enemies on Earth," his gaze narrowed. "Why?"

Without turning, Loki gave a dramatic sigh. "Your enemies," he mumbled. "And I didn't steal anything, Brother. I simply borrowed your likeness in order to perform a quick errand," he explained flippantly. "It's not so difficult. Since we're so much alike it's easy for simpletons to mistake us—"

"Loki," Thor drew out, irritated.

Annoyed, his brother jumped to his feet, whirled around and charged the grid. "Don't address me in that patronizing tone of voice!" he demanded. "While you're down there acting like the hero you aren't I'm stuck here on Asgard with absolutely nothing to do and no one to do it with!" he shouted, arms flailing.

Snorting a laugh, Thor shook his head and folded his arms. "No one is attempting to 'act like a hero'," he replied using air quotes with his hands, his arms folding again. "Our friends alerted me that Jane was in danger. She—"

"Again Jane Jane Jane," the younger man mocked turning away, his arms waving demonstratively. Calmly taking a seat in the corner of his luxurious cell he stared at his brother. "You're much better off with Lady Sif in my humble opinion," he quipped, glancing away and folding his arms.

Thor rolled his eyes, his arms going to his sides. "What exactly is this about?"

Loki quirked a brow. "About?"

"Yes. About."

He shrugged. "Nothing. You and that silly Hammer of yours are allowed to go gallivanting all over the Nine Realms while I get to rot in this prison dying of perpetual boredom," he stated sharply.

Locking gazes, Thor furrowed his brow as Loki stood and strolled across the floor towards the grid, his arms swinging. "I'm always forgotten," he added. "Remember the time you and Dr. Strange-Love left me drifting between portals while the two of you entertained yourselves? Hmmm?" he accused.

His elder brother snorted incredulously. "It's Dr. Strange. And despite what you make of the incident we were not entertaining ourselves, Brother. We were attempting to determine the enemy's next move. You were only momentarily inconvenienced."

"Thirty minutes!" Loki screamed, his gaze wild. "I told you I was falling for thirty minutes!"

"No harm done. You're alive aren't you?" he shot back amused.

The younger man rolled his eyes.

Thor gave a sad sigh. "This conversation is obviously going nowhere. I take my leave," he stated turning to the prison stairs. He glanced over his shoulder. "I am to meet Brunnhilde to discuss the fallen warriors bound for Valhalla," he explained, his heavy boots clacking against the marble floors. "I hope you use the solitary confinement wisely. Reflect upon your utter inadequacy for that prestigious honor, Brother" he quipped heading up the stairs and out of sight.

His arms folded, Loki's emerald gaze narrowed. Raising a palm, the chair behind him suddenly rose and hurtled toward the grid, the contact bursting the piece of furniture into flames then dissipating instantly.

"Oh so smart," he huffed quietly.