Omg finally, I've got past the first 2 chapters of a story! I'm briefly introducing the character of Lorelai; I've never seen Agents of Shield, I just needed an Asgardian name for a redhead and she fit the description, so that character may be different from what you know.

There ARE warnings for this chapter - I've put them in the notes at the end, so if you dislike spoilers read on.

Loki saunters through Asgard's corridors feeling rather relaxed. The palace is just awakening, most nobles still recovering from the previous night's festivities, and the muted hum of servants surrounds him. Opening the door to the council chamber, he steps into the room and pauses.

Odin's one blue eye sizes him up coolly. "You're late."

He sets his jaw. "I didn't realise-"

"Sit."

Loki nods stiffly and does as he bids. Across the table Frigga smiles at him. "How are you, Loki? I haven't received a letter in some weeks now."

"I'm well, thank you Mother." His words are formal but his voice is muted almost to softness. He hasn't seen Frigga in a year, and he's missed her comforting presence. "I'll write to you from this battle."

All three sat in silence. Odin's fingers drummed against the heavy oak table. "Where is your brother?" he asks brusquely.

"How would I know?"

The older man casts him a querulous glare.

Loki folds his arms. They continue to sit a while longer, until finally Thor's voice came from outside the door. It opens and his brother enters, smiling wide. His expression fades rapidly as his eyes land on their father. "Thor." Odin's voice is flat. "So good of you to join us."

She comes in behind him, and glances first at Odin then her husband. Thor's eyes harden. "I did not realise you would be joining us this morning Father."

Whatever the Allfather's response would be is lost; Frigga rose and goes to her eldest son with welcoming arms. He embraces her with a fond smile, before walking to the table. Behind him, Frigga kisses her daughter-in-law on the cheek, the two women greeting each other warmly. Loki looks back to his brother, who has faltered in his step - Odin is sat at the head of the table, where Thor would usually be seated.

Thor's brow creases, though he remains respectful. "Father..." He nods his head towards the spare seats. She walks up behind him, her eyes lingering on Odin. He glowers. Frigga threads her hands together.

At length, the Allfather stands and moves to the right. "Loki."

Shoulders tight and face neutral, Loki rises and lets his father take his place at Thor's right. He sees Thor and his wife exchange a look before taking their places - Thor at the head with Frigga on his left, and her beside the Allmother. She is directly opposite him, and he allows himself a minute to watch her. She's clad in a regal gown of crimson and gold; Thor's colours, clearly a show of support for the husband she loves so much. Loki wrinkles his nose.

Thor speaks. "Shall we wait for the others to join us?"

"No need. I have already conferred with General Tyr, and he will follow our commands."

She looks sharply at Odin. "Your commands?"

His father returns her gaze levelly. "Mine, and my son's. It is all in his best interests after all."

"I daresay Thor can decide what his own best interests are. He is the king."

"He is my son first."

She falls silent, but Loki can see her distaste in the set of her mouth. His brother's eyes move between the two of them, flashing like lightning. Thor says nothing, but Loki knows whose side he's on - his brother has spoken often enough and with increasing frustration about their father's inability to put trust in him. After an uncomfortable moment he speaks. "I will summon the generals myself. Let's begin shall we?"

Though uncomfortable, the meeting does not last long and soon enough Loki finds himself returning to his rooms to pack what little belongings he wants to take onto the battlefield with him. It's over and done with soon enough, and as the hour draws nearer the grounds of the palace fill with soldiers and common folk alike, awaiting the signal to leave.

The squires have gone on ahead to Alfheim to prepare the military camp but the generals have not yet appeared, so Loki takes it upon himself to rally the men. As he appears amongst them they begin to kiss their wives and embrace their children, none of them seeming particularly concerned about the danger. A squire appears with his horse which he mounts, and then surveys the troops. "Formation!"

His command goes answered slower than he would like - it takes several minutes for the soldiers to don their helmets and shields and stand in order. Loki shakes his head in disgust. His own men, stationed across the nine realms know better than to be so lackdaisical by now. He can see Sif and Fandral in the ranks also on horseback, awaiting the king.

Soon enough the generals filtered out, donned their armour and mounted their horses. They each take up their various positions just as Thor appears - mighty and solemn, his red cloak and Loki's green the only splashes of vibrant colour in an otherwise golden army. He looks to Loki and nods imperceptibly.

"Forward!"

The soldiers began their march towards the bifrost, where Heimdall awaits them, and Loki turns back to wait for his brother. He glances over to beckon Thor forward. Odin and Frigga have appeared, watching the proceedings with practiced eyes, and his father glances between both brothers before disappearing back into the palace. His mother approaches and he leans down for her to plant an affectionate kiss to his cheek. "Farewell, my son," she bids him with a smile. "Take care."

He bows his head in respect, "Mother."

Thor is busy - she has finally appeared, with their child in her arms, and Thor bends his head to murmur to the infant. From where he sits on his horse, Loki can hear snatches of their hushed conversation. "... make sure he doesn't?"

She smiles up at him and it turns Loki's stomach. "Of course." With a last kiss to the babe's head, Thor wishes his wife goodbye and presses a kiss to her hair. Loki looks away, and Frigga glances at him before moving towards his brother.

She steps to the side as Thor and Frigga say their farewells, gently rocking the infant. Her eyes catch Loki's and he notices immediately the tension in their depths.

"Still unworried?" he asks scathingly.

She glares back at him, the worry gone as quickly as it came, and he relishes in her hostility. It's the only part of her has has all for himself. "He'll be back before I notice he's gone."

"Doubtlessly." His eyes darted towards Thor, who is mounting his horse. "No words of farewell for your brother?"

She smiles with false sweetness at him. "None of comfort."

Loki returns the gesture smugly. Flawed and cold though her smile is, it will warm him for days long to come.

The diamond dangled in the air.

You giggled at your tiny son as he waved clumsy, chubby fists, trying to catch the twinkling gem. Beside you Frigga laughs. "He's growing fast! To think only a year ago he was only a speck." She leans down to dote over her grandson and you smile, sitting back in your armchair.

"He's certainly taken up a lot of space," you say fondly as she lifts Magni into her arms. "Like his father."

Frigga smiles over the child. "Yes, I remember Thor requiring a lot of energy too. Of course he wasn't so fussy about who held him; it was Loki who was the demanding one. He always had his favourites, and anyone else who tried to hold him, well..." She winced.

"He loves you," you say neutrally. It's the closest you'll come to speaking to fondly of him, and only because you don't want to hurt Frigga. She hums.

"And Thor. They've always been inseparable, even as babes. It's a shame Loki's decided to go touring with the military, I always imagined them as a team when Thor took the throne."

"Thor's doing wonderfully," you said lightly.

She smiles at you again. "Yes he is," she agreed. Lifting an elegant hand, she murmured an incantation and the diamond swirled in the air, making Magni squeal in delight. Warmth fills your chest.

Rising from your chair you waver, "I should go and attend to my duties now. There's work to be done..." you look at her apologetically. Frigga is kind and sincere and you don't want her to feel pushed aside. However the older woman arches a brow at you.

"Oh please, my dear, I've retired. It's your turn to do all the heavy lifting now." She waves you away and coos over your son, and you slip away.

Odin may be adamant to rule in Thor's stead but you are still the queen, and you are just as adamant to do your job. Entering your quarters, you shut the doors firmly behind you and take your place behind the desk. Your rooms are different to those which you share with Thor; huge windows look out onto the palace grounds and thin lilac curtains hang in each doorway, letting light seep through each room.

The soldiers have been gone several days, and you know by now what to do to ensure the army is well-fed and supplied. Poring over lists and notes, you quickly write up several instructions and call in a servant. The man bows and awaits your instruction. You place a scroll in his hand, "This is for the kitchens, see that all provisions are packaged and sent to the bifrost ready for transportation. This one," another scroll, "is for the healing wing. We've had a few injured returned to us but there are bound to be more in need on the field - bandages, stretchers, medicines and the like will also need to be made ready. Make sure this one reaches the generals, I need to know if there's a shortage of armour on the field, and this," you give him the smallest and final letter, "is for my husband. See that he gets it."

He bows again and hurries off. The sun burns bright in the midday sky as you relax into the chair, feeling a little lost. Normally when Thor was away you would hold court in his absence, resolve minor issues and confer with diplomats - but now Odin is here and the most you can do is manage the palace's affairs. You sigh in irritation.

A soft thud comes from your sitting room and you turn quickly, peering through the curtains. "Yes?"

No response comes and you rise out of your chair, ready to call guards, when a pair of arms envelope you from behind. "Did I frighten you?" a laughing voice spoke into your ear.

You gasp and whirl around. "Norns - Lorelai!"

The redhead laughs, her hazel eyes sparkling. "Surprise!"

You embrace your old friend warmly, a smile on your face. "What are you doing here?" you asked her in amazement.

Lorelai gestures in the air. "Oh you know, I heard Thor had gone to war and that old man was here so I assumed you'd be wasting away with boredom, and I was right! How fortunate for me!" She grins and you shake your head in amusement. She peers at you. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Of course," you said, linking your arm with hers. "I'm just wondering what exactly you have in mind for this visit."

She smiles mischieviously. "Oh nothing much - a few parties, maybe a lover or two?" She laughs as you smack her arm. "No? How about putting lemon in the old goat's tea? You can't deny you'd love to see him splutter on it."

You laugh and instantly feel bad. "Lorelai," you reprimand her, "he's my father-in-law."

"He's the Allfather, it doesn't stop him from being a complete ass. Or, as you called him in your last letter 'a sour old goat.'"

"I never called him that!"

"No - but you wish you had!" The pair of you giggle. Lorelai had been one of Frigga's ladies alongside you before you had married Thor, and she was the only one who continued to treat you as a human being. "So," she pulled you along with her into your sitting room, "how is it, being queen?"

You shrug. "It's fine."

She looked at you closely. "Not taking it's toll yet? Frigga always said it was less glamorous than it looked."

"It's not glamorous," you agreed, "but it's not as difficult as I thought it would be. It's just people that can be hard sometimes."

"What people?" Instantly Lorelai sounds protective, like an elder sister. "Is that bitch Fulla being insufferable still?"

You snorted. Fulla had been another lady-in-waiting, a general's daughter and extravagantly wealthy - as she had not hesitated to remind both you and Syn at every turn. "Fulla's married now too, with twin daughters. She's perfectly civil now."

"Of course she is," Lorelai mutters cynically, making you laugh, "But seriously, what people?"

Sighing, you explained. "Loki's here." She instantly looks at you pityingly. "He's just been... himself. It makes me uncomfortable."

"Have you spoken to Thor?"

"I've tried," you reply tiredly, "but you know Thor; he loves him too much to be harsh with him."

Lorelai sighs too. "You know my brother's been sent to a garrison on Niflheim? It's overseen by Loki, and I hear he's quite severe. My brother says he's a natural killer." A chill goes down your spine and she shrugs. "It's just hearsay, but everyone knows Loki's far from friendly. At least you're not married to him!"

"Ugh," you wrinkled your nose at the thought. "I'd rather be dead." She laughs at your dramatics. "Has your father made you a match yet?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

Lorelai laughs harder. "Freya's tits! A husband! For me!" She wags a jewelled finger at you. "No - I've told father I shall have a thousand and one lovers, and not one less, before he gets rid of me." She rises and extends a milky hand. "Come on, show me this son of yours everyone is talking about."

Lorelai's presence helped the time go by quickly, and towards the end of the week you received a letter from Thor. It's short and simple; the battle is arduous but not an easy win for the enemy, and he hopes to be home within the month. He sends his love to Magni, and asks you to read him stories from the book Frigga had given him. You do so happily.

It's odd to have this much free time. You make an effort to appear in court for an hour or so every day, if only to keep an eye on Odin, but there's nothing to monitor and most of your days are taken up with your son and friend. You dine with Odin and Frigga every night, and the same day you receive Thor's letter Odin announces he's going to Vanaheim for a brief visit.

"What for?" Frigga asks mildly.

"Trade deals," he tells her, sawing viciously at a piece of beef. The juices run from the meat and trickle across his plate. "Some bloody fool has decided they're being cheated and is proposing to stop sending goods until a better bargain is struck."

You frown. "Should we tell the farmers to start the harvest early, just in case?"

Odin barely looks at you. "No. I will deal with this."

Lips pressed together, you continued to eat. "How long will you be gone?" Frigga questions.

"Until I have succeeded."

"Odin, your health! You're supposed to be resting-"

There's a loud screech as Odin pushes his chair back from the table. "If I need your opinion I will ask for it," he snaps at her. Your jaw drops and Frigga looks stunned as he storms out of the room. Her eyes meet yours across the table, a mixture of anger and humiliation.

After a long silent moment, you push the wine jug across the table. The gesture breaks the tension and she flashes you a fleeting smile. You continue your meal punctuated with polite chitchat, but inside you are relieved. Finally, something to do.

Odin leaves the next day; Frigga wishes him good fortune as if nothing had happened between them. You think the look he sends her is apologetic, but you can never tell with the old king. Dipping your head in a farewell, you watch him ride out of the city before turning back inside with a spring in your step.

In the Allfather's absence you hold court. You are not Odin or Thor, but nor are you stupid, and though it irritates you to have to set the most important issues aside for Odin's concern you are more than willing to resolve minor disputes among the people.

While hovering in the court under Odin's regency, you had noticed that he tended to favour the military men and distinguished families - many of lower birth had been pushed to the back of the queue, and you gladly listen to them and advise them. One man claimed another had stolen his inheritance; one maid came forward to beg the crown for assistance after the deaths of her parents left her destitute. It's tiring work which takes up your whole morning and most of the afternoon, and you only excuse yourself to feed Magni or to eat a brief meal yourself before resuming. Frigga joins you for a few hours, sitting on the chair just beneath the throne and lending her thoughts when you falter.

It's still strange to sit on Hlidskjalf - not as strange as it had been the first time Thor had left you to oversee matters, but the huge gilded throne is too large and too cold for your liking. It's stranger still to have Frigga sat below you; despite your family ties you have never truly shaken your regard for her as queen, and you happily defer to her when you find yourself at a loss for words.

"Fear not my dear," she assures you over midday meal, gracefully kissing your cheeks, "it gets easier with time." You smile at her, and thank the norns that Thor was raised by her as well as his father. Were it not for Frigga's influence, you are certain he'd be far less compassionate and much more arrogant.

"My father is a great man," he'd told you once. "But he sees people as tools and treats them as such."

In truth you do not envy your husband his role - while you are happy to be of use, the incessant demands, tasks, and questions leave you quite exhausted. You finish late into the evening, pleased that the list of people clamouring to be heard has greatly diminished. "I'll spend tomorrow morning in the study," you tell the einherjar, "please have any documents left there." The row of gold-armoured bodyguards cross their fists across their chests and you dismiss them.

That night you fight to stay awake while you feed Magni, and leave it to his nurses to put him to sleep before collapsing into bed.

The next morning you rise a little earlier than usual, woken by the maid bringing your breakfast into the room. You eat and dress quickly, choosing a gown of flowing sapphire blue, before going to your son. He is delighted when you pick him up, and a pang goes through your chest. "I'm so sorry my darling," you tell him, letting him chew on a fingertip with toothless gums. "I've been so busy! But don't worry," you kiss his rosy cheeks, "you can stay with me today."

You feed him and give him to the nurses to be changed, and then take him down to the gardens for a brief stroll. The palace grounds are quiet since all the soldiers have left, and the pair of you are left alone. The sun is high in the morning sky and a breeze drifts over Asgard. There is colour everywhere; the green of the grass, dots of red and yellow flowers, and you turn along your favourite path that leads to the rose garden. Pink blossoms bloom overhead, shielding you from the sun and you hum contentedly, rocking Magni in your arms softly.

He babbles happily and you reply in kind, until you notice the servants scurrying through the gardens; a telltale sign that the day was beginning.

You return to the nursery and instruct the maids to follow you. The remainder of the morning is spent at your desk, reviewing letters and documents of importance, your son sitting within eyeshot on the floor, playing with his nurses. You wonder idly if he'll begin to crawl soon.

It's not yet lunchtime when you hear the bells begin to toll. Your brow creases and you lower the pen uncertainly.

The bells toll again.

You move from the chair to peer out of the window. Sure enough, the bifrost was in full force, a long line of golden soldiers already pouring into the city. But why? They'd barely been gone ten days. Wrapping a shawl around yourself, you hurry out of the room and into the palace.

As you make your way to the courtyard, many others rush past, evidently also eager to find out the news. Not one of them spoke a word to you. Reaching the doors, you can hear the clinking of armour, the hubbub of voices, and the clipping of horses hooves - yet it is eerily subdued. Stepping out of the palace into the cool air, you notice immediately that many soldiers have returned, their armour still fairly clean.

Craning your neck, you look around for the familiar sight of Thor's golden head, but it eludes you. Someone rushes up behind you, and Frigga's breathless voice comes over your shoulder. "The troops are back early. Where are the boys?"

You begin weaving your way through the growing crowd, people looking away when you looked them in the eye. Somewhere, a woman screams, the sound rising high in the air. It sent an odd, ominous feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. A black shape catches your eye - Loki's horse, looking a little dusty but otherwise fine. The sight soothes you.

If his horse was there then Loki would be close by, and close to Loki would be Thor. You push your way to the horse, and sure enough Loki was stood with his back to you, a circle of wary onlookers around him. His head was bent. Mentally preparing yourself for an interaction with your difficult brother-in-law, you approach him.

"Loki? Where is..."

He was standing in front of a large wooden board. Your voice trails off. The man on it is wearing grey and silver armour and a red cape spills underneath him, but it couldn't be Thor. Your feet move closer. His face is covered with a vivid red cloth, and as you round the body you can see long golden hair, streaming like sunlight underneath.

Your world lurches. You look at Loki. His eyes are reddened.

Opening your mouth - who is this, what happened, where is Thor, what is going on - the words wouldn't come. The air seemed tight. You walk up the the top of the board, hovering beside the man's face. Or where his face ought to be - the cloth had no ridges and depressions like it should have when thrown over a face. Where was the nose?

You reach out to pull back the fabric, to see whose face belonged to the dead man, when a hand closes around your wrist. Loki shakes his head. You stare at him, uncomprehending. Your fingers felt sticky. Slowly, you turn your hand over. Where you had touched the cloth the skin was wet with red, cold blood. Your heart thunders.

A woman gasps behind you and Loki lets your wrist go, moving to her. You turn too - Frigga is stood there, shawl abandoned on the floor, mouth agape. Water fills her eyes and crashes onto her cheeks as Loki embraces her. You look at the body, and then back to her. Suddenly your head feels horribly light and your mouth tastes like saltwater. Without a word you began to stride back through the crowd, into the palace. The people part for you without a word, their eyes wide in horror.

You have to get back inside, away from them, away from their gazes. Every step is too slow so you speed up, brushing past men, women, children. Inside you don't pause, continuing with your mouth firmly shut all the way back to your chamber. Only once you were inside and had slammed the door do you stop.

The nursemaids looked up in shock, eyes wide, and you point to the door silently. They all hurry out, leaving Magni wriggling on the floor.

The room seems tilted, off-balance. Rushing into your bathroom, you reach the sink just in time to vomit all your breakfast, retching until there is nothing left to give up and then some more. Numbly, you turn on the taps, staring at nothing. It couldn't have been. Surely, it couldn't have been.

It was.

Rinsing your mouth, your hands caught a towel that you brought to your face. It was red.

Your chest is tight, and your lungs aren't working properly - with barely a minute to think you rush back into your room and pick up your son. You bury your face against him, inhaling deeply and he starts to kick and cry.

Do you think he'll forget me?

Horror wells up inside you, matched only by some deep and awful feeling, and then tears are flowing fast down your face - blinding you until you sink to the floor. Gasping, you hold Magni close your chest, near hysterical. Thor was dead.

The world spun sickening until your head careened, and you rise to stumble to the bed, careful not to crush the child before collapsing next to him. Lying against the plush sheets you shut your eyes and sob, clutching your wailing son until darkness overtakes you.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Character death, mention of gore, violence.

I should warn readers that the story will get darker from here on, but it will not feature non-con or sexual violence.