I did not create these character or this world I have the wonderful Marvel to thank! I am also thankful to those who addd this story to favorites or followed me you are the best!

Finally regaining some control I push myself to my feet, brushing my black hair behind my ears I look around me. My room is a maculate as usual, the books stacked neatly on my desk, the green covers on me bed puled strait.

I do not want to go to the feast tonight. Why should I go to a feast celebrating the greatness of king Odin when he hardly looks my way when I pass. I sit down on my bed, my shoulders hunched, my fingers pulling nervously on the end of my tunic. Perhaps I should just not go; I doubt that anyone would miss my presence. Hummm... I press my fingers together it would be interesting to know there reactions.

Decision made I stand up and walk to the small looking glass positioned above the chest containing my cloths. A small thin boy looks back at me, eyes red from tears contrasting with pail skin. Feeling the magic course through my veins I close my eyes allowing it to fill me up. Upon opening my eyes I look at the empty glass.

I feel my lips turn up in a grim smile but am unable to see the change. By now the feast will have been going for quite some time, if someone was coming for me they would have already been hear. Also I suppose everyone should be too drunk at this point that it should be easy to nick some food.

With confidence that is usually an act I steel out of my room. The corridor is deserted, confirming my belief that the feast had already started. My soft leather boots barley make a noise on the polished floor. Thor would never be able to do this I inwardly smirk. He is much to noisy to sneak up on anything. But an annoying voice says he would never have to sneak into a feast invisible everyone would wish him there.

I push that thought out instead focussing on the nearing voices. The servers doors would be the easiest way in, no one would notice that door opening. The door is smaller than the others in the corridor, simple wooden carvings adorn it rather than the gold my ancestors preferred to plaster everywhere. With a deep breath I gently nudge the door open glancing inside. It is as I expected. Tables laden with food, surrounded by those of all ages. The older ones drinking the younger shrieking happily. All at ease.

I recognize the group of boys father insists I take weapons lessons with. Why does he make me endure them? He must know how they treat me. He knows how pathetic I am. Why could he not spare me the shame and allow me to have my lessons separately? They are all pushing each other playfully boasting of the deeds they will accomplish all the while snatching as many deserts as possible.

I slip through the door and carefully staying close to the wall I edge nearer the top table where Odin, Thor, Frigga, and Odin's closest advisers are sitting. On my way I grab a apple from a near platter, rolling it back and forth between my hands. Thor appears slightly agitated, for once not devouring all food in sight he is simply looking glumly down at his plate ignoring our parents conversation.

"May I go check on Loki?" he finally blurts out much to my surprise.

Odin glances over at him, surprised he would dare interrupt him. "Why should you?" he is not hear, perhaps he is studying, ill, or simply busily." he dismisses turning back to Frigga.

"If he is ill then he should be brought food" Thor insists

"If ill he would have asked for food to be sent to him." Odin's statement is clearly closing the subject. His eyes leaving his son and immediately returning to his previous conversation.

Thor seams perturbed but not enough to talk back, instead continuing to stair sulkily down at his plate. Perhaps... I begin but before I can even finish my thought Thor stands up and walks over to the vey group of boys who had been tormenting me earlier. Or not. He simply wanted compony not mine specifically.

My appetite gone I turn from the room and escape back into the safety ad solitude of the hallway. The noise emitting from the hall sounds ominous and overwhelming not welcoming. I did not want there compony anyway, it should not hurt that they do not wish mine. I attempt to calm my breathing as a steal down the hall, not bothering to be too quiet everyone is at the feast.

I slam my door shut, an unusual action for me but I know no one will hear. Everyone else is having too much fun celebrating. Pacing back and forth I slowly feel my rage begin to ebb away to be replaced with the sadness again. Why do I allow them to hurt e. I should not care what they think. This just proves the point that I am week and foolish. Realizing that I still have the apple clutched in my hand I furl it away from me as hard as possible gaining some satisfaction with the noise it makes as it hits the wall.

Refusing to let myself succumb to tears so easily I create a ball of light and grab the book on top of the pile on my desk. The usually fascinating words fail to draw me in. The spells I already understand and the histories already memorized. Why can this not be fascinating? My anger returned I slam the book down and pace back and forth slapping my hands agents my thighs.

A noise down the hall brings me out of my thoughts. Instinctively I extinguish the light releasing the power and listen closer. Almost immediately I recognize the steps as Thor's. Not wanting to deal with him and his questions I fling myself down onto my bed pulling the covers up to my neck. A knock. Thor does not realize how loud he always is. I mock the loudness.

"Loki. Are you fine? May I enter?"

I refuse to reply instead making my breathing steady as Thor opens the door. And this is what I get for forgetting to lock my door. I berate myself keeping my eyes shut. I shift slightly sleepily before returning to my original position on my side. This is not the first time I have pretended to be asleep.

Thor's steps come closer and closer, my face itching with his eyes upon me. "Brother" the word is almost a whisper and I can not deiced if it was a question of if I heard him or a statement. Either way I ignore it continuing my act. Thor stays there for quite some time, until I am about ready to scream and through the covers over his head. When I finally hear the door shut quietly behind him I breath out all the air I hadn't realized I was holding.

He chose to see me even when Odin said he should simply ignore my absence since it must be my fault. Why would he come to me? I stand up and resume pacing in my dim room. My mind is racing so quickly that even I can not keep up. I must stop this. I do not want to think. I shall practice. Perhaps if I tire my body enough then my mind will quiet.

I consider which spell would take the most energy? My eyes falling on my bed I have an idea. Reaching for the power once more I focus on the bed. Eager to obey me it rises of the floor and hear is where the complex magic comes in. I simultaneously think of destroying an protecting. My bed bursts into flames and flips over and over. The green flames seem to be devouring the bed, wood charing, blankets burning, emitting a black smoke. The smoke however is odorless and when I release the magic and rest the bed back on the floor the bed is unharmed. The flames were real but I protected the bed producing the illusion of my belongings burning.

My muscles tremble and fatigue sweeps over me. While I use power outside of my the use of magic still tires me. Still perfecting the channeling of energy I am still requiring energy of my own. Mind still racing I decide spell after spell to weave, each one more exhausting than the last.

Again, again, each time I complete a spell start another not giving myself time to think. Finally I feel my knees collapse under me. Perhaps I should have stopped sooner. Perhaps I should not have gone this far. But it is too late the floor is rushing up to meet me.

I am sorry I try hard but I am a terrible speller. Also I know you must be busily but if you have thoughts please review.