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This chapter was slightly hard for me to write because of the bullying scene since there was a long period in my life when I was constantly bullied, so this brought back some feelings to the surface making it a little hard to write. The majority of this chapter is done in Loki's POV. Please continue to review! :)

After dinner you decided to retire to your room to have some downtime. You decided to wash the day off of you, particularly the dust from your earlier fall during training, and you felt much more refreshed after doing so. Pulling out your journal, you skimmed through its pages to look at sketches and writings you had previously done. You frowned at some of them because you were highly critical of your work and were your harshest judge. You kept your work hidden from the eyes of others as much as possible because when someone criticized your work, you felt like they were also attacking you as a person because you put part of yourself in every picture you drew and everything you wrote. Even Loki had ever rarely seen the contents of your journal, but he never pried or got offended that you chose to keep them to yourself, which was another quality Loki possessed that made you like him so much.

Even though both you and Loki were young, mere children by Asgardian standards, you felt that you had already made a lifelong friend and as an Asgardian, you certainly had a very long life ahead of you.

Loki POV

Aurora had just exited from the hall hugging me before she bid me goodnight. I was leaning against the stone wall of the entrance to the dining hall watching her walk away, her long mahogany colored hair bouncing back and forth. As she turned the corner and disappeared from my sight, I decided to go back to my own room. I was planning on reading more of my magic books. There was a new spell I wanted to try and learn. If done successfully, it would allow me to produce multiple copies of myself. Before I could even put one foot in front of the other as I began walking back to my room, I felt a push on my back and before I knew it, I was falling. My face hit the stone cold floor and absorbed most of the impact from my short fall.

"Ummmmffppphh." I groaned into the stone floor before rolling over onto my back.

"I see that your magic tricks didn't protect your face." A voice sniggered from above me that I recognized to be Fandral's voice.

I opened my eyes to see him standing above me with a smug look on his face. I chose not to dignify him with a response.

He didn't take too kindly to my silence.

"Oh, you think you're too good to talk to me because you're a prince, is that it?" Fandral laughed with his voice laced with irritation.

However, I still chose not to utter a single syllable. Instead, I glared up at him with my back still against the floor.

Fandral was growing increasingly annoyed with my silence and his insults kept coming, "If anyone should be a prince, it should be me."

Another: "Some prince you are; laying on the floor with your face all bloodied up and scarred."

The third: "Princes are supposed to be handsome; you just look like a pale, sickly, commoner."

The fourth: "You're also too weak to rule Asgard. A kingdom under your command would surely fall."

The fifth: "You don't stand a chance against Thor. When the time comes, everyone knows he is going to be chosen as king over you, even you know it and if you don't, you're not as smart as everyone thinks you are."

I winced at that fifth invective. Fandral seemed to notice the slight reaction from me which caused him to grin and continue.

"I bet Odin and Frigga are so disappointed in you that they wish you weren't their son."

Fandral finally got his wish; I snapped. Maybe not in the way he'd hoped, since he was clearly trying to start a fight, but I still cracked.

"Shut up! Shut up!" I yelled angrily as I quickly sat up and stared back at him, my fists clenched.

Fandral put his hands up in mock sorrow and said, "My sincerest apologies to the prince of Asgard. It seems you can speak after all."

I felt my upper lip curling above my teeth as I replied bitterly, "Much better than you can."

"Ah yes, Silvertongue is it? That's what you're being called around here now? Well, it is of no concern to me that your speech is better than mine when I'm better than you at everything else." Fandral smirked.

I finally stood up with hot tears behind my eyes, threatening to fall. I refused to let them fall, especially in front of Fandral. It would bring him too much satisfaction to see me display such weakness. So, instead I said, "If I were you, I would be more concerned about how I choose to speak."

Fandral laughed at me again saying, "You're threatening me now? You? This is too funny…"

I could feel the tension building in my hands as I clenched my fists harder. He was trying to provoke me and I hated to admit it, but he was doing a pretty good job.

"Whether or not I'm threatening you depends on your course of action and if you desire to degrade me some more." I seethed.

Fandral's face grew red and I assumed it was because he did not understand what degrade meant. My suspicions were confirmed when Fandral said, "I don't know what degrade means, but I don't need to know what it means to know that it makes me want to keep doing this to you more."

I stepped closer to Fandral so that I could get up close in his face as I growled, "That would not be wise."

Fandral seemed slightly startled at the noise that came out of my throat and I was surprised myself. I had never made a noise like that before; I didn't even know I was capable of making such a menacing sound. Still, I acted as if I was not surprised at all so as not to seem weak in front of Fandral.

"I'm not afraid of you." Fandral announced.

I shrugged. "Whether you fear me or not is of no concern to me. It'd be in your best interest, however, to leave me alone."

"You just want me to let you go so you can run back to your room and cry. Well, be my guest," Fandral bowed sarcastically, "enjoy your cry session."

With that, Fandral walked away. I did not know if anyone noticed the spectacle and I did not care to find out, so without looking into the dining hall to see if anyone was watching, I walked briskly back to my room. Fandral was wrong; I was not going to run back to my room. However, I did cry. I didn't want to cry and I tried to fight back the tears, but the dam had burst and the tears I had been holding back cascaded down my face like a relentless waterfall. I was ashamed of myself; here I was, violently crying in my room because someone had been mean to me. I was ashamed that I had been targeted in the first place. What was wrong with me that Fandral had sought me out and claimed me as his subject of torture? I cried because I felt worthless, alone, and pathetic. I knew that I could go to Aurora's room, but she had wanted to be by herself and I did not wish to bother her. I also did not want her to see me like this. If she did, then she would think less of me just like everyone else already does and I'm not confident that I could handle that. So, I curled up on my bed as the sobs racked my body. I cried so much that my head hurt and my vision was blurry. I cried until my face was drenched with tears and even my hands had tears on them too from covering my eyes and wiping the tears away even though they just kept coming. I cried because I thought it was foolish of me to be this upset over how I was being treated and then I cried because of that, too. Soon, it became hard to tell why I had really even started crying to being with; it could have been Fandral's actions towards me in the hall, or it could have been my own thoughts as it was happening. I didn't know anymore and it didn't matter because either way, I was pathetic. Fandral was right; I didn't deserve to be a part of my family.

After I found that I could no longer shed any tears, I laid on my bed clutching my pillow, trying to steady my breathing. I felt completely drained from the exhausting efforts of crying so much. Mixed in with the feeling of exhaustion was anger. Fueled by this anger, I found the energy to get off of my bed and walk over to a mirror. I looked at my reflection and I didn't like what I saw. My face was indeed marred by scars and stained crimson with flecks of blood. My eyes were glassy and bloodshot from crying, and my normally pale cheeks were flushed red. As I stared back at my reflection I set my jaw and clenched my fists in anger again. I vowed that I would get my revenge somehow. I refused to be pushed around by Fandral anymore, or anyone for that matter.

"I'm Loki, son of Odin, and it's time that I started acting like it." I said to myself while watching my reflection in the mirror mouth the words as well.

"Oh yes," I thought to myself, "Everyone is going to regret what they've made me become."

A/N: Definite change in tone for Loki at the end here- I wanted to develop his character a little bit before shaping him into the Loki that we know. There's still going to be a number of chapters before he resembles more of the Loki we see in Thor, since this story precedes the movie to a point, before it follows the course of the movies.

I think I'm going to post a few more chapters of childhood before moving on to what I'll probably title as adolescence; since Asgardian time doesn't pass like our time does I want to avoid giving definitive ages saying something like, "equivalent to age 17 on earth" or something like that because it can get a bit verbose. At that point, Loki will be much more like he is usually depicted as the story continues. The next chapter has some references to mythology in it and I will point those out in my next update before the chapter begins!