A.N.: In this story, I want to develop an idea I have in my mind about races and the stereotypes there are about them. This idea is to become clearer in the future.

Beyond the fortress inhabited by the protectors of the Realm of Jotunheim was seen that which could be called home by the ones unable to fight and their children. The rustic village of the Frost Giants in nothing reminded the sunny home of the Aesir, being more easily associated to a deformed existence among many mountains covered with ice and snow than to what could be called "home". Still, for those who had never seen the sunlight in its comforting and magnificent entirety, that forgotten land served them as their home and the young Jotuns felt satisfied by simply watching the older ones leave toward their stronghold, prepared to defend their Realm against anything that threatened the peace of their people.

Hoirandí looked around, watching the snowflakes falling over the heads of playful children who ran freely among old stones and rocks, children who could not yet understand the difficult life they would have to face one day, children who still could not understand the cruel fate that awaited them, the only thing that would remain to them as soon as they became a part of the army. Kvasir had began to understand that fate, constantly being taught about justice by his parents. To some people, it seemed impossible to believe that, amongst many cruel beings as Frost Giants, there were individuals who only sought for peace. But there were such individuals; and Kvasir had always been told by his father and mother, Hoirandí and Singrid respectively, to fight for such blessing, their goals and dreams always hidden from the King of Jotunheim. His early death, at the age of 10, still terrified many of them, but mainly Hoirandí and his wife. It had been 20 years since they had lost their only son in such a cold and cruel way, but the memories were too real to be forgotten. Having left the army of Laufey since very long, Hoirandí spent his days caring for his wife and his daily business in the village, trying to forget...

On this day, however, it felt impossible to forget. It had been a long time since the descendant of the throne, Loki, had returned to the village. Still, words about him were common, words that always spoke of his lack of interest in the teachings of his father. The words he heard on this one day, however, brought discomfort and at the same time comfort to the heart of the Giant Hoirandí - Loki Laufeyson, it seemed, had been saved from death by the Asgardian Thor Odinson and his current status was unknown. It had been three days since the young man had been taken and an uneasiness began to take over of the inhabitants of Jotunheim due to the fact that Laufey did not seem concerned about the matter. But that did not worry Hoirandí. When thinking of Loki again, more memories came back to his mind and he left his duty for a moment, thinking about the first day he saw the boy in the village. Hoirandí himself did not stay with him... But how could he forget the way his little boy, Kvasir, had repeated day after day about the moment he met the son of Laufey?

A week after the arrival of Loki on Jotunheim, Laufey decided to take him to the village. The boy no longer wore the lightweight armor he wore the day he arrived and his green eyes had been taken by a dark red color, deep dark circles already appearing under his eyes. Wearing nothing more than what appeared to be a piece of an old cloth covering his waist, Loki still felt the cold and tried to warm himself up by wrapping his tiny body with his arms. His deep wounds had not yet healed and fear, more than anything, still brought him constant pain and suffering. Once they crossed the gates of the small village, the villagers' eyes turned to the king and the tiny boy who walked beside him, trembling and frightened.

"People need someone to control and to protect them, someone to guide them in times of distress!" Laufey said to Loki, the exiled Asgardian looking around the place, scared "That is why they need a King extremely focused on his duty. This King, besides focusing on his skills in a battlefield, must know his people and have a healthy dialogue with them in order to find an appropriate way to govern over them. Here I have brought you so that you may know a little more about what lies beyond our stronghold. I want you to talk to our brothers and sisters and get used to their - and now yours - reality. Now go!"

Loki looked at him, frightened. He did not like the idea of wandering alone in a strange and gloomy place like this, hundreds of Frost Giants watching over his crossing. Before he could say anything, however, the little boy found himself alone, Laufey and his men walking quickly and leaving him behind. Containing a sob of despair, the little boy pressed his arms against his body and walked alone to a small hill, watching the daily life of his... The idea of calling such creatures his brothers and sisters had not yet fixed in his mind and he felt confused. Nothing would make him move, even if it was a direct order from his King, and he looked around, looking for a place where he could stay until he was taken back to the torment he lived in among the warriors.

A few feet away, three children had turned their attention to him. Between a 14 years old girl and a boy of 13, was Kvasir, the 10 years old son of Hoirandí. A few minutes ago, the three amused themselves in a long conversation about war and the war itself - During that time, Hoirandí was still part of the army. Now, the three had turned to Loki and the little boy, realizing their gazes over him, stared down to his feet, embarrassed, the voice of the Jotuns reaching his ears.

"... The son of King Laufey! Look at the size of those scars!"

"That thing is the son of the King?" The girl asked, showing disgust "Look at him. He does not even seem to be a Jotun"

"What do you mean?" The 13 years old boy asked.

"Now, look at his size! He's so... Tiny! And look at how he walks. He looks totally helpless, afraid of his own race! What a shame! What inferiority!"

"They say he lived with the Asgardians since he was a baby ..." Kvasir said, looking at him without malice.

"No wonder he is such a freak!" The girl replied and the other boy laughed "Seeing him like that ... I can not imagine how the Asgardians won the battle against our armies millennia ago. It's ridiculous!"

These harsh words hurt Loki stronger than he thought they would. The way the girl spoke reminded him of Asgard and how many children used to see him as being weak. He had always been small and seemingly unable to fight, to defend himself... But regardless of what they said, Thor was always by his side to make him feel better and make him see that it was possible to become as good as the others. But to remember his home, his family, none of that mattered anymore... It no longer mattered to him for they had deserted him and although he tried to force himself to accept it so he could survive, the pain suffocated him, the pain depressed him, his heart sinking increasingly toward its end. Trying to go to a shelter, the frozen ground below him took him down and Loki, landing with a crash over his arm, could not feel more defeated. Embarrassed, he kept his head down as he got up up, only to sit on the treacherous ice pack, the laughter of the young Frost Giants hitting him hard again.

"Look at him, stumbling on his own feet. He does not even seem to know the ground which he's walking on!"

"I see nothing wrong with him," commented Kvasir, innocently "He's scared, alone, but seems to be nice."

"If he is so nice, why don't you go stay with him?" The girl asked, mocking, and turned away, heading for a place as far as possible from there, the other boy following her closely "What a freak... How dare he come here?"

Hesitant, Kvasir considered leaving the boy alone. Something, however, seemed to call him closer to the boy and he approached the son of Laufey with a smile. The boy looked so depressed ... Perhaps an cheerful conversation would make him feel better.

"Hello!" Kvasir greeted, smiling, waiting for a response. But the answer he received was unexpected and Loki, frightened, jumped back, startled, and posted his arm in front of his face, as if defending imself. Tears instantly covered his eyes and he started shaking, moving away. Desperate, Kvasir tried to calm him down but the confusion was apparent in his own eyes, the reaction of the boy in front of him being totally unexpected "No! W-Wait, I ... I will not hurt you! It us alright, do not feel scared ! I-I just ... "

Loki sniffled, trying to hold his feelings back, and slowly sat normally again even though his eyes had remained focused on the newcomer. Relieved, Kvasir waited until he calmed down and only when Loki turned his attention to the distance he spoke again.

"Can I ... Can I sit next to you?" He asked, patiently and waited. Loki said nothing, just continued to stare at the horizon, his head resting on his arms folded across his legs. Being so close to a giant made him shiver but he did not manage not speak. Even more confused, the poor boy found himself shaking his head positively, the difficulty in handling his tears becoming stronger. Thanking him, Kvasir sat beside him in silence and waited for a few seconds before speaking again.

"What is your name?" Kvasir asked, trying to sound friendly and reliable. But the son of Laufey barely budged, an awkward atmosphere in the air, and Kvasir continued "Well... It's okay. You don't have to tell me if you do not want to. I am Kvasir! It is an honor to meet the one that will come to be my King in the future!"

Again, silence. There was a mixture of terror and confusion in the eyes of the little boy. He looked so lost that it caused grief to the 10 years old boy and more silence ensued thereafter.

"How old are you? I'm 10! My father is part of the army of your father but he does not know much about you. Actually, no one seems to know much about you..."

Loki coughed briefly. How could Kvasir, with just two years apart, be so tall? He also was a child but his body did not show that. Kvasir was even taller than his brothe- Colleague, he thought to himself - 12 years old colleague, Thor! How could he, Loki, being a Frost Giants, be so small?

"It must be nice to be the son of the King..." The boy began again, thinking about the effort of his father and his colleagues. He also wanted to, one day, become strong and protect his family, and would always love tales that spoke of heroic deeds, of wars, of heroes and despite not liking violence he knew that, living in Jotunheim, he would need to learn to fight. Therefore, it felt impossible to ignore the multiple brands covering the the small body next to him and so he continued to speak "I mean, you live with the warriors, does you not? I bet you're being trained by the King himself! All of these scars, they simply - "

Kvasir regretted uttering such words as soon as he was interrupted by an unexpected sob beside him. Loki started trembling convulsively, his eyes brimming with tears, a hurt and suffered moan leaving his lips. His hands closed tightly over his arms, hurting him, and the nightmare he had been living in since he arrived twisted him again. Not knowing what to do, Kvasir found himself unable to speak for a few seconds, and further approaching the boy, put his hand on his shoulder.

"I-I'm sorry ... Please forgive me, I just ... I did not mean to scare you. I-I ... Please, do not cry! I did not want to-" He said, his hands sliding over little boy's arm "W-was it something I said? I'm really sorry, I just wanted to make you feel better and... I-I'm going to call my mom! You will see, she will know to do! She will help!" He said, desperate, and started to get up but the hesitation made him stay close and it was with great surprise that he heard a voice drowning in tears being directed him.

"L-Loki...!"

"What?" The son of Hoirandí asked, kneeling beside the boy, focused on the his voice.

"M-My name ... Is L-Loki ... "Loki said, trying to hold back the sobs that had always taken over him from the start.

"Loki? Whoa, that is a cool name! I mean it!" Kvasir said, smiling. Before he could say anything else, though, Loki continued.

"W-Why are you so tall...? I-I'm 8 years old but I'm so t... Tiny...!" He said, hating himself more than anything. He had never been good to the Aesir at all hence why they had abandoned him but he expected at least to feel at home while with another Frost Giant as young as he was. However, he was not as fierce as they were, neither as strong and now he realized he was too small to be one of them. He felt so out of place, so alone, so left behind and he gasped, wishing to be taken into torture again. At least he would feel useful.

"I... I do not know, Loki" Kvasir said, wrapping one of his arms around the tiny boy "It is curious, that is for sure... But, hey, it does not really matter! I mean, as long as you are one of us no one will really pay attention to that, right?"

"Y-Your friends d-did..." Loki retorted, breathlessness.

"My friends? No, they are not my friends... They, well, are just colleagues, I think. But do not worry about them! Mom always told me not to care about what others say! Try doing the same!"

"I-I miss my m-mom..." Loki let out and hid his face behind his arms, forcing himself to think about his new life and how he was supposed to enjoy it... But how could he enjoy a life of suffering and pain? Understanding, Kvasir realized he was probably talking about his family in Asgard and that made him feel even more pity for the boy. But he did not allow himself to feel sad!

"Look, you seem to be lonely. Don't feel bad about it but... I just want to ask you if you would like to come play with me or anything? I can show you the whole village! And my mom could give us something to eat too!"

"B-But... Why do you want to help me? I don't even know you..."

"It should be something usual! I mean, if we ever want to have peace we must bring peace to others, right? To make our brothers feel better... My parents always told me that even though..." Kvasir stopped, remembering Laufey should never know about such thoughts. Peace was something that didn't fit into his doings and if he knew about such a thing it would be obvious they wanted a better ruler. That would only end in destruction and now he had told that... To the son of the King himself! "But... Ahn, would you please don't tell that to anyone? I'm sorry, I just... If someone knows about that then my dad will have to pay and... And..."

"I won't tell anyone, I promise" Loki told him, feeling calmer. Kvasir reminded him of Thor... That brought a warm feeling to his heart. "I don't want to bother you, sir..."

"Don't call me sir! I told you, my name is Kvasir! Call me whatever you'd like except for sir or anything like that!"

"Can I call you... Can I call you Kva?" Loki asked, embarassed. He had merely known the boy but he felt such an urge to have someone he could count with. He shouldn't have asked such a thing, he shouldn't care for him, but the need he felt for was too strong... He just wanted someone to make him feel calmer, someone to take care of him. He felt lost and he wanted someone to tell him everything would be fine. Anyone would do it but Kva reminded him so much of a Thor that... He felt even more confused.

"Of course! Kva sounds fine to me!" The boy said and helped Loki get up. He was really taller but he was still a child, just as Loki and Thor were, and he smiled, realizing that, perhaps, these scars hadn't been gained during a training...

Hoirandí shaked away more thoughts as he saw Laufey leaving the village, followed by two of his men. Even though Loki wasn't of his concern, Hoirandí felt pity for the child and he sighed, thinking about his little boy once again. Far away, Laufey and his men reached their fortress under the violent storm that fell upon them. However, the inquietude still made his people question his goals and finally, after a long time, one of the warriors approached him, his doubts being the same as of the others.

"Your Majesty... He had been gone for three days. He knows of our plans, of our tactics... Don't you think it is dangerous for us to leave him next to someone as powerful as the Allfather?"

"We will not need to go after him..." Laufey said, in a cynical tone of voice "Soon enough, he shall return willingly."

"What makes you feel so sure of that, my lord?" The Jotun asked, unable to understand why a confident smile suddenly sprung from the lips of his King.

"Loki is noble," he said softly, as if this fact was exactly the key needed for the puzzle to be complete "He will not allow 'his people' to suffer. He shall return and he will fight for those who do not even care if he is alive or not... But his nobility... "

Laufey smiled even more openly. Staring to his right hand, his fingers closed tightly over his palm, he watched intently as a knife of ice came to be from his hand, sharp as the fangs of a wild animal, determined to tear through the one who had turned against its will.

"... His nobility will be the reason of his death. His nobility... Will be his end!" Finished the King of Jotunheim and, laughing gloatingly, played with the knife safe in his hand.