Where He Lies

Sigyn and Loki returned late to the palace from their afternoon out together. The sun was setting at their backs in a bright orange and red blaze as they walked through the courtyard. Loki had his arm around Sigyn's shoulders as he whispered a joke into her ear. It made her laugh which caused her to nearly double over because she was laughing so hard.

That laughter abruptly stopped when they walked over the threshold of the palace's tall doors to find the inside in an uproar. The pair watched in confusion as bodies rushed about, some away from the Hall of Valhalla in a hurry or towards it with the same amount of urgency in their steps.

"What's going on?" Sigyn wondered out loud as Loki's arm slipped off her shoulders, his brows drawing together as his eyes expressed the same confusion Sigyn had voiced. Loki didn't answer because he obviously didn't know the answer himself. Instead he tried to hail a nearby servant walking by.

"Excuse me, but what's going on?"

The servant didn't even glance in Loki's direction before rushing off.

Loki slowly curled his raised hand into a fist while he lowered it to back to his side, embarrassed and frustrated. Sigyn's expression was sympathetic as she touched his arm gently before walking a ways away to talk to a group of servants gathered and whispering in the hall. She returned shortly, her expression now worried.

"There's been some sort of attack on Midgard. Lord Thor and the others are in the Hall gathering the reports to try to piece together what's happened."

"An attack on Midgard?" Loki repeated, stunned. "Are you certain?" There was no doubt when he looked into her eyes that that was what she had heard. Loki glanced down the curving corridor in the direction of the throne room of Valhalla where he knew Thor would be. "I should go then," he told her. His own expression mirrored her worry, but he smiled reassuringly despite it and placed a comforting hand on her neck, his long fingers brushing her cheek. "I don't like it when you look at me like that," he said, his smile never wavering as he left her standing in the corridor.

When Sigyn was out of sight, Loki ran his black gloved hands through his hair and let out a breath.

What was going on indeed. Was Midgard really under attack? Why? By whom? What did this mean for Asgard? Were they in danger as well?

As Loki's long legged strides took him closer to the throne room, he saw the crowd of people there gathered at its tall, peaked and tightly sealed gilded doors. There were guards stationed at the entrance and from where Loki stood, it was obvious that they weren't letting anybody in. Least of all him, so there was no use bothering.

Cursing, Loki pressed himself up against the wall out of the way and thought furiously. He wanted to know what was going on from the source and that meant being inside the throne room where the gods were gathered.

Just as he was thinking about trying finding another way in, maybe scaling the side of the palace and climbing in through the window, the doors to the throne room opened. Voices rose, their questions spilling out of mouths and crashing up against his ears in waves. Loki eagerly pushed himself away from the wall, seeking Thor's golden hair over the heads of the other Asgardians.

Thor emerged, surrounded by guards as he walked unmolested through the crowd. His face was drawn into a scowl, most likely due to the news of the happenings on the other realm, a realm he had grown rather fond of to put it mildly.

"Thor!" Loki called out. He didn't seem to hear him over all that chatter, so Loki stepped into Thor's projected path and called his name again, louder this time.

"Get out of the way, trickster!" the head of Thor's guard bellowed. Thor grabbed the back of the guard's neck and pulled him back, stopping the whole progression.

"Enough," Thor thundered, in no mood for this pettiness. "Let my brother pass." Loki stood there awkwardly, trying not to act like he had just been insulted…again. The guard discreetly pulled a face as he let Loki pass.

Loki ignored the look and drew nearer to his brother before he whispered, "What is going on?" as they continued to walk, surrounded by guards.

"I must go to Midgard." Thor told him quietly. Loki's eyes widened with excitement.

"Can I go with you?" Loki asked, a skip in his step. Thor stopped again and placed a calming hand on Loki's shoulder.

"No, Loki. I cannot take you with me. I fear…" Thor thought about what his friends on Midgard, the Avengers, would think if he brought Loki, the one who nearly destroyed their New City of York and took over their realm back to them as a child. He feared it would not be wise to involve him. "It is not safe," Thor concluded, his tone troubled. Loki gazed up at him, barely able to hide his disappointment. He's always wanted to go to Midgard. He'd at least like to see it before it was potentially destroyed!

"But I can help!" Loki pleaded.

"Loki, no. And I mean it. Stay in Asgard. It is for your own safety."

Thor continued on, his crimson cape swirling behind him. Loki did not follow, but watched his brother leave him standing in the corridor. A guard bumped into his shoulder, nearly knocking him off his feet but Loki didn't bother to care.

Thor was leaving him.

He'd go to Midgard for who knew how long?

Loki glanced at the fleeting figure of the guard who had run into him.

A cold shiver ran down his back.

Who would protect him when Thor was gone?

Loki paced the garden outside of Thor's rooms as he absently juggled a thick blue cloth ball filled with sand in his hand. The small glass petals flowering on the trees twinkled in the dying light as they chimed together in the faint breeze. Thor's rooms were locked since he'd left for Midgard, but that didn't keep Loki out. Not when it was the only place where no one would bother him. He had not even seen Sigyn since Thor left. It was almost like Frigga was purposefully trying to keep her busy so he wouldn't be able to see her.

Loki threw the ball up and snatched it violently out of the air again.

He was sick of waiting around all the time. He wanted to do something. He wanted to help! Prove himself-prove to everyone that he wasn't the monster that they thought he was. But that opportunity appeared to be passing him by and there was nothing that he could do about it…

Angry, Loki threw the ball into the woods with a curse. He turned to retreat back into Thor's rooms where he'd stay for the night and stopped abruptly when something struck him on the back of his head. His hand flew to the spot where he was struck and whipped around, expecting to see someone standing there. There was no one.

Exasperated, Loki looked for the object that had been thrown at him around his feet, a snarl on his lips. Next to his foot was the ball he had thrown into the trees beyond the garden.

Loki dropped his hand from the sore spot behind his head and knelt down to retrieve the ball. His long fingers lingered over it before he grasped it in his palm, confused.

He straightened until he was standing tall, holding the ball tightly. "Who threw that?" he asked out loud. Loki waited for a response, but there wasn't even a telling rustle of movement. There was no one there, but someone had to have thrown it. Was it Sigyn? "Show yourself!" Loki demanded.

Caw!

Loki's attention was drawn to a low hanging tree branch just at the edge of the garden. Perched upon it was a stark black raven. It twitched its head, seemingly peering at Loki and ruffled its feathers before cawing at him again. Loki squinted at the raven suspiciously as he turned his head to look elsewhere for the culprit. But just as he was about to shift his eyes away, the raven cawed again, this time more obnoxiously.

"What do you want, you stupid bird?" Loki called out to it. "Go on! Get out of here!" Loki waved his hands at it in an attempt to scare the raven off. Loki didn't even know why he bothered. It was a stupid bird and it only cawed at him again mockingly. Frustrated, Loki threw the ball at it. The bird flew up and caught it out of the air.

Loki gaped at the bird as it turned and fled into the woods.

"Hey!" he shouted after it when he realized that the bird was stealing his ball, though it was he that had abandoned it to the woods in the first place.

Loki chased after it, following the sound of its wings and its persistently mocking cries. He crashed through the trees that had grown thickly together. The dead, lifeless twigs reaching off the ends of dwindling branches scraped at his exposed skin. He simultaneously tried to watch the skies through the canopied branches and what lay before him which resulted in treacherous going.

Without warning, Loki was free of the confinement of the trees and stumbling into an open clearing. When Loki regained his bearings with his feet firmly planted beneath him, he looked around. There at the center of the field was a waist high grey stone sculpted into a cylinder. Placed upon it was a gilded, gold helmet with great long curving horns arching over the top of its helm.

Loki stared at it as something stirred deep within him. It was a feeling like all those other times when a memory tried to breach the surface of his mind and failed. Only this time it was stronger.

He found himself drawing nearer, his legs shaking, but sure in his steps. Offhandedly, Loki noticed the lifelessness around him that wasn't known to Asgard. Everything was beautiful and filled with life, but here in this place, the trees were dead and lifeless, its branches reaching for the sky with claws. The ground beneath his feet, however, was lush green grass…

When Loki was only a few feet away, the raven flew out of nowhere and landed on top of the helmet between the horns. The black bird spread its wings and cawed loudly at him as if warning him not to come any closer. Loki obeyed only because he realized what he was looking at. As the raven flew off again, Loki didn't even blink for his mind was on the distant past…

"Did I die, Thor…?"

It was a question he hadn't asked since he was a child. One that he'd always assumed was true, that he did die, but Thor had never actually said the words, he'd only ever said that he'd come back. But that could mean anything…

Now here he was, staring at a grave stone with a helmet that he knew had belonged to him.

Out of all the memories that had decided to come to the surface, it had to be the one that confirmed what he had been afraid of all this time: his death.

With a heaviness in his heart, Loki took another step closer, his hand reaching out to touch the shining metal. As soon as his fingers brushed against the helmet, his world erupted into a field of green fire.

Loki retreated back, raising his arms to shield his face from the hot and cold burning wind. His long black hair whipped around his head and into his eyes, making it hard to see. Loki tried to keep his eyes open so he could see what was happening around him, but the wind dried out his eyes, causing him to close them tightly again.

Suddenly the wind began to die down into a dull roar rather than the hurricane inferno that it had been. Loki tentatively began to lower his arms, his green eyes squinting into the wide circle of green fire he was trapped in.

Then suddenly out of the flames a figure began to emerge. Loki blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision, lest he be imagining things. However, the figure did not disappear, rather it became more defined until Loki could distinguish that it was a man walking through the flames towards him.

He had long black hair that reached his shoulders and sunken, hollow eyes that burned green and hot and cold as the flames surrounding him, set in a pale and narrow face. He was clad in black leather with touches of green in the inner working of the cloth and gold plating in his armor. A green cape billowed at his back.

Loki stood there, frozen in awe as the man approached him with a devious glint in his eyes. The man stopped next to the grave stone and looked down at the helmet resting upon the stone. With long slinger fingers, the man caressed the horn, an expression of fondness and memory upon his face.

Loki continued to stare at him, waiting for the man to take notice of him again. When impatience grew restless inside him, Loki asked, "Who are you?"

The man returned his burning green gaze to him, his hand returning to his side.

"I am Loki, whose whim brought Asgard crashing down to its knees. I am Loki whose tongue was an anvil where the sharpest lies were forged. I am Loki and I have things to say that you must know. I am Loki who you must not trust."