Houses, in many ways, are like people: on the outside, they can be prim, clean so no one suspects a thing; but on the inside, there is so much brokenness, so much unseen pain- and only the walls know.

The palace of Asgard isn't much different. Though, admittedly, it may be a little better.

On the bright morning in question, the household of the Allfather fared very well. Freyr and Freya walked in the gardens, Freya taking moments to flirt with the guard; Sif and the Warriors Three trained in the courtyards, so intensely that even Volgstagg forgot that lunch was approaching. Thor and Buldur were speaking to Baldur's children, reminiscing old battles as the children giggled in delight; Odin himself was doing well, receiving happy news from his ravens; even the dungeons had only one prisoner. To the secret delight of Odin and Thor, that one prisoner was not Loki Laufeyson this time.

Loki himself was stretched out on his bed in his chambers, reading. And though he had recently come from jail, his wife of only 79 years, Sigyn, was not there with him; she was with a friend, weaving, a room across. Typical, Loki thought to himself; most of the crimes he would be locked up for were not even his own, or, at least, if they were, had good justification in his mind- but Sigyn still was ashamed for being the wife of who the Midgardians called the god of mischief. She stayed away. No matter, he reminded himself- he had his children... well, one child. His creature children where locked up, Nari and Vali where also ashamed of him- but blessed Ljota? His little light, or fochter as he called her ( her Midgardian mother was of the German race- she liked using German in terms of endearment) was always loyal and kind to her father, proud to be a Lokidottir.

And though her room just adjacent his, he was too emerged in his book to quite notice what was going on inside.

"Let me go, you fools!" Ljota yelled, trying to yank free of Vali's grip, as Nari taunted her. They where only 78 years old- six years younger than herself, six years less training from Father, but they had male friends to practice with, wears she had no friends at all. The fact she had taken to wearing skirt-trousers similar to Lady Sif's didn't help right now- they had her in their grasp.

"Oh, what are you going to do, Frosty?" Nari taunted, his blue eyes grinning. Vali laughed. Ljota only hated them more- they where just as Jotun as she was, but apparently their Aesir blood from Sigyn seemed to clear it right up! Or so their friends treated it.

"We have the same father, morons!" she said, gritting her teeth. "Now let me go-"

"Or what?" Vali said, taking a turn to taunt. "You'll tell your mother? Oh wait! She is dead!" the twins laughed even harder. Their mistake. They had pushed their half-sister over edger.

While Vali was foolish enough to let his grip loosen in laughter for a moment, Ljota kept her wits about her. She twisted her wrist against her brother's thumb, and raked his shin, for good measure. The demigod yelled. Nari tried to capture Ljota by the hair, but she ducked, anticipating the move. While in a low position, she also decided to take the time to swipe the other twin's legs. He was on the floor in seconds, right along his brother, his black hair no longer sleeked behind his ears.

Ljota stood over them now and grinned widely.

"I am no weakling, brothers" she spat the word, but still smiled. "Do not dare attack me again. And do not dare insult my parentage-" in the meantime as she spoke, Nari, the more quick witted of the two twins, went to his knees, then sprung forward, his hands reaching for the strong, but small legs of his sister to bring her down. A mighty fall it would have been, too, if what he grabbed hadn't faded away.

The real Ljota came around a corner, shaking her head.

"Every single time. Pity. And I am not even that skilled yet- well, I suppose it does not take much to trick you fools," she said, grinning as widely as her double. Nari and Vali, of course, had the ability to do magic as their sister. But being boys raised in Asgard, it was frowned upon by every teacher except their father for them to practice magic of any kind. They were warriors, they were skilled in hand-to-hand and weapon combat.

But one type of magic was encouraged by their friends and elders. Having little exposure to their own father, the words "Jotun" and "monster" where synonymous. And though it was the greatest act of utter hypocrisy, they readily ridiculed the Jotunheim; they used Jotun as an insult, even to their own sister- and in secret, they even despised their own father for being the son of Laufey.

So if there was one magic they could control well, it was the magic of their own existence. When stressed, as children, their Jotun form and frost would often expose itself. But, hating it, they easily got it under control. Ljota, on the other hand, never learned how to suppress that part of herself- she never needed to, she thought, so she never practiced.

Her brothers knew this. They looked at each other for a brief moment as their sister stood over them. They shared a grin, then got up. Ljota readied herself, but became weak again as she saw her brothers' green and blue eyes turn scarlet. She backed off.

"Do not. You... you would not dare to condescend that low as to expose your Jotun form, brothers, would you?" she said, still trying to be intimidating, but failing, as her voice cracked. The two twins smiled. Their arms became blue and ridged up to their forearms, then stopped. She knew exactly what they would do then. She refused. She sent a blast of warm magic in their direction, but, as she said earlier, her magic was still not strong- they deflected it with their frosty touch.

They lunged forward, Nari grabbing her left wrist, Vali grabbing her right before she knew quite what to do. She struggled against them, but she was already weakened by the fear of what came next.

Her arms first, turned dark blue, her skin became harder. Like a wave, the blue skin rippled down to her toes- she felt it, because it was freezing. She felt her cheeks become cold, and she knew that her irises where now scarlet. She was in full Jotun form.

"Let me GO!" she cried, and the twins let her go- only to make her mental capture worse. They where still pale skinned, still the skin of Asgardians.

"Monster!" Nali sneered.

"Jotun!" Vali added, coming closer to his sister, who was now in the corner of her room- the walls starting to get a layer of frost.

"You pathetic child. You think you have the love of your father, but you have no more love than Fenrir!" Nali said, comparing Ljota to their brother, the fierce wolf.

"Stop. Silence," she pleaded, trying to cast a spell of silence on them, and failing in her distress.

"Hah. Jotun runt-" Vali started, but was interrupted.

"Say that again?" a deep male voice demanded.

Sigyn finally came back, looking happy.

"Hello, wife," Loki muttered, not looking up from his novel.

"Loki, dear!" she replied, sitting on the side of the bed and kissing his head. Loki's green eyes widened in surprise.

"Oh, well, you look happy." he said, placing the book on his lap and sitting up against the head board.

"Oh, I am! I was weaving with Lady Lorelei. We had a nice chat; she is much changed from when-"

"Lorelei?" Loki said, eyes widening again.

"Are you two acquainted?"

"Oh... I know she and her sister, Amora, well enough..." Loki supplied, vaguely, "Go on."

Sigyn went on to tell her husband about some of the latest gossip of Asgard. He fazed out for most of it, letting his mind wander while his beloved wife continued to talk-

"Sh!" he interrupted suddenly, putting his finger up. Sigyn, though, shocked, stayed quiet , as her husband sprang up, ears pricked.

"Let me GO!" he heard a female voice cry not too far away. Ljota.

Without a word, Loki whisked out of his chambers, Sigyn in tow, strait to his daughter's room. As he walked in, not only did his heart leap and his eyes become dark- his blood boiled.

"Father!" Nari and Vali exclaimed, backing off from from Ljota and straitening. Ljota only covered her face.

"What is happening? Ljota? Why are you in that-" Sigyn would have continued to speak, thinking Ljota was at fault and her sons where helping,but Loki silenced her again. (Ljota, of course, understood Sigyn, and mostly respected her. They used to get on well, but as the twins grew up, much changed between Lokiwife and Lokidottir.)

"Nari, Vali- do repeat what you said to your sister," Loki repeated, putting his hands behind his back, his face the epitome of mock-interest.

Nari and Vali Lokison for once in their live struggled to make up a reasonable lie. They could lie or manipulate almost anyone, but to the God of Lies himself- they where wide-eyed, mouths agape. Ljota still hid her now scarlet eyes in her blue hands, ashamed by her Jotun form.

"Oh, come," Loki said again, jaw set, faking a grin. "I am sure the words you said to your dear elder sister were words of comfort and wisdom! Tell me and your mother!"

"Father, we-"

"Now!" Loki demanded, making Sigyn jump.

Nari and Vali finally got the clue to hang their almost- identical heads in shame.

"I... I called her a Jotun runt,"Vali muttered, knowing he was going to get it, and get it good.

"A Jotun runt?" Sigyn repeated, appalled. As an insult to a young woman of Asgard, even Ljota, that had no place out of her sons' mouths, but added to the fact that her beloved sons and husband where Jotuns to begin with? Even Sigyn's blood now boiled in anger, contempt, even.

Suddenly, Loki's emerald eyes turned scarlet; his fair Aesir skin slowly rippled into a dark blue, ridges appearing from under his green shirt. On Midgard, they would have considered his and his daughter's Frost Giant form beautiful, but on Asgard? Even Sigyn was secretly horrified, but knew that a point had t o be made. She bit her tongue.

"And what is wrong with the Jotuns? Are they so much less than you, so less worthy then yourselves, Nari and Vali Lokisons?" Loki said, his voice quiet, but still deep, intimidating, as he walked closer to his sons. His red eyes screamed anger at the twins. They, in their shame and embarrassment, said nothing.

"You forget that the Jotunheim is as much your heritage as Asgard! In fact, there you are technically royalty, through me! Are you not proud?" Loki sneered, leaning further.

"You should be ashamed!" he said, grabbing their wrists. They dared not struggle against their father as they felt themselves turn blue. Still holding their wrists, he led them to Sigyn. "Bring your sons to their chambers. Kindly." Loki added, not wanting to frighten his wife too much. He still couldn't believe her racism towards the Jotun ,but they were still a young couple, they hadn't been married a hundred years yet! - she would learn. Sigyn quietly grabbed her sons' blue wrists, timidly at first, but harder when she remembered her motherly anger.

"I shall deal with them later," Loki promised as he walked over to his daughter, kneelt down and sat next to her. He could have turned back to his Aesir form at any moment, but he didn't. Loki, never being the sentimental type, didn't know what to say for a while. For a good deal of time, daughter and father just sat there, until Loki noticed that Ljota wasn't breathing correctly. When he looked a little closer, he noticed that-

"You know that you can cry in front of your father when things such as these happen. Especially after the hypocrisy of your brothers," Loki said quietly. She looked up at him.

"But it is a sign of weakness-"

"No. Not in this case," Loki said, meaning it. Empathizing. Wishing to the Norns that Odin could hear this conversation.

"Ljota, if the Allfather had told me this as a child... much... much would be different. Some of the supposed best warriors on Asgard, I have caught weeping. It is... natural." he said, grabbing her blue hand.

"R-really, Vater?" she said, involuntarily letting her scarlet eyes swell with tears.

"Really," he replied. "Thor? His grief is equivalent to a child's," he said, his twilight face all smiles. Ljota smiled as well. She was used to not-crying, so this time, she did not. But a few tears did roll down her ridged cheeks as she giggled into her father's green shirt, picturing a childlike Thor.

"You know, Ljota," he whispered. "On Midgard, your mother said that her people would think our skin is rather ravishing in this form." His daughter looked up. "You are joking?"

"No, no. She told me. And that red eyes would be considered most interesting as well," he said, staring into hers.

"Midgardians are so much more... accepting!" She said, happy that she could identify with these beings.

"Well, they do have their racists as well. Oh, they are quite prejudice, but... she," he meant Ljota's mother, Aurora, "Did say that most Midgardians are trying to change that. Trying for equality, apparently."

Loki struck the correct chord. "Better than here," Ljota said. "But... it's nice to think..." Ljota mentally cut herself off. She knew that on Asgard, as long as she lived there, her Jotun form would never be considered beautiful.

"Vater?" she said, looking up at him again- she had been leaning on his shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Please show me how control this. It cannot continue, can it?" she said, looking down at her Jotun hand.

Loki sighed. "No, it cannot, I'm afraid," he said, pulling her up to her feet and sitting her down on the bed. As they sat, he taught her how to turn herself back to her Aesir/Midgardian skin. It took a while, but she finally took to it, a smile on her face. Loki was quite proud of his daughter inside.

"You are getting faster in your magic, Ljota," he stated when they were both in their normal forms again. She smiled in return. Then, Loki smiled wider, an idea coming to him.

"Vater? I know that face," she said, matching it. "You are coming up with a prank, aren't you?" The God of Mischief smiled wider, remembering that "prank" was the word that his daughter's mother had used for his little "jokes".

"Yes, Fochter. I have a 'prank' in mind, as you say. Remember what I said about Thor having a wide sort of emotions?"

"Yes... you said that he has a temper of a bilgesnipe, and you just recently said that he cried like a young child... where are you going with this?"

"Oh, listen, will you? What is the thing that he cherishes most?"

" Well, Mjolnir-" she started to catch on. "But father, there is no possible way we could steal it! No one could pick it up but him-"

"Ah, but who said that we ever had to pick it up? Ljota, I have taught you much of magic. Let me teach you the magic of trickery!"