A/n. Another short Loki chapter. Thanks for the new reviews, everytime I see one I do a little happy dance in my mind. Big hugs to Ladylokitk9, and Violetk. Incidentally, the tattoo is just something I have in my mind. Maybe I can get someone artistic to draw it up for me. :). Also thanks to new reviewer Victoria54. I try and update everyday, but sometimes it takes me a couple days to think it all through. Enjoy everybody!

Chapter Twenty-one

It was just a joke that went too far. WAY too far. Loki knew Thor was a fool, but even Thor wouldn't risk his brother's, not to mention his four best friends' lives. Would he?

We were completely surrounded. This was too much, even for us. "Thor, stop and think. Look around you, we are outnumbered." We needed to get out of here before we all ended up dead.

We were so close to escape. Literally turning to leave, when he grumbled it to our retreating backs. "Run back home, little princess."

Well fantastic. Within seconds we were attacking, and being attacked by what felt like an innumerable number of angry frost giants. I was starting to rethink my master plan on ruining the coronation. While I had been spectacularly successful, I seem to have created a monster out of Thor. However, I had to admit to myself, that battling these creatures was not the worst way to relieve some of the anger I had been feeling. I was almost enjoying myself.

And then with a moments distraction, one of them had me by the arm. I braced myself for the searing pain of cold that was about to take place, but it didn't happen. I looked down at my arm in surprise as it turned blue under the giants touch. He met my eyes, and looked even more shocked than me. I used it to my advantage, and quickly dispatched him before anyone noticed.

We fought until we were exhausted. And then we ran. We were facing our defeat, when Odin finally made his appearance. That was WAY too close. I had him told of our location because I knew this was a mistake, plus Thor was going to get in trouble, so it was kind of a win/win.

But the relief I felt was short lived. For a moment I repeated a thought I had, had a thousand times since I lost her. Maybe it would be better if I had died. At least if I die in battle, my father might not be ashamed of me. Like he would be if I had thrown myself off bi-frost, like I had wanted to after she fell.

I knew my father would be angry. But I had no idea how angry. I stood in shock as he said things to Thor that even I thought were too much. I tried to speak up for Thor, and he all but roared at me like an animal. I couldn't believe my eyes, as he stripped Thor of everything and all but threw him to Midgard. It seemed that was my Father's go to punishment.

The next couple of days were strange. My mother was inconsolable, my father, didn't want to discuss it, and Thor's friends were pining for him. It was annoying. It is not like he was dead. Not like Lucy. Eventually he would come home, and until then, I was not going to lament his loss.

I even kind of enjoyed it. Not that I was making it obvious. But not having him around, constantly trying to make me feel better, was kind of a relief.

But there was something that was keeping me from enjoying it fully. The moment with the frost giant. The one that had touched me. Something was not right, part of me had a feeing, that the rest of me did not want to accept. But I had to know, I couldn't just live in ignorance forever.

So I went to it. I picked up the casket slowly. And watched in horror as it changed me. I turned to see my father watching me. It is not a memory I relish. Finding out about who I really was. I felt my already broken heart break again. This time it shattered completely as I shouted at my father. In my mind, thinking how grateful I was that Lucy would never know what a monster I really was. It was a small mercy, compared to the anguish I felt. And then my father fell.

What had I done? My anger at him had pushed him over the edge he had been teetering on since he cast out Thor. My emotions were a mess, I didn't want to feel bad or guilty. This man had lied to me about so many things, and yet he still called himself my father.

I sat with my mother at his bedside as she reassured me of my place in this "family". I wanted to be angry at her too. But I couldn't. She was my mother, and always would be. This woman had known all along who I was, and yet, she never ONCE made me feel less than Thor. My father had done that my whole life. And now I knew why.

When the guards entered the room, and bowed before me, I looked back at her. I heard her saying the words, and felt the scepter being placed in my hands. I shook my head, I wanted to push it back into the hands that gave it to me. NO. This was not what I wanted. I never wanted to be king, especially like this. I looked at my mother in desperation, and she looked...proud. Of me? All of this was my fault, and my mother was proud that the throne had fallen into my lap.

I went to the throne and sat down. I was ashamed, and angry. But I had learned after I lost Lucy, that being angry was something I was good at. And so I settled back into that seat, and decided to pass the time by watching my brother suffer. I almost smiled. Almost.