Visitation

by kalimecat

Loki has returned to Asgard and is imprisoned for his crimes. While in prison he has the occasional visitor, will the love of others bring back the fallen prince or is he truly too far gone?

5. Tears of an Angel

A/N HELLO READER! It's been a while but I'm back. I'm so sorry that it has taken me so long to update, but getting your reviews and comments was definitely and encouragement always to keep writing. You guys rock my socks off! Anyway the Thor 2 trailer has finally been released and it has changed a bit of the direction my story was going to go but not much :) As a forewarning this Chapter is long, but I figured you all deserve it since you so patiently waited. Anyway happy reads and writes and God Bless!

Dagmar ran, ran full speed down the dank, humid corridor away from Loki's cage. She was hot and panting in the stifling subterranean prison. Her feet slapped and stamped through the slime and muck that made up the floor of the catacomb. Her vision was obscured by the hot salt tears that poured out of her silver eyes. They tumbled down her cheeks like a rapidly flowing waterfall and they stung the burn marks left on her neck, collar and shoulders by Loki's hand. The splashing eye liquid sizzled and gnawed at the raw black and blue frost bitten flesh. She gasped and tried to stifle her sobs as she sprinted down the dimly lit corridor or the forbidden dungeon.

"Let me out! Let me out!" she cried frantically as she approached the door. Her hand outstretched as she almost grasped the door. Her dirty porcelain hand viciously pounded on the thick iron threshold. Finally she composed herself long enough to remember her own magic. She quickly whispered a breathless incantation allowing her to phase through the thick metal obstacle.

She fell through the other side of the door on her hands and knees weeping. The guards on the opposite side of the door were finally starting to wake from their spell induced slumber. They immediately jumped to strike position seeing any emergence from the "Pit of Despair" as they referred to it. Their electro-staffs were pointed and aimed glowing with the vicious purple light. "Stop!" Dagmar cried as she through out her arm causing an invisible ripple and pushing the guards and their weapons slightly away from her allowing her to rise to her feet and wipe the tears and dirt away from her face.

"Lady Dagmar?" One of the guards guessed as he raised himself up from the floor. "What are you..." he started but instantly the beautiful yet now filthy young maiden had taken off again. Lord Audric's daughter bare and soggy feet carried her quickly up the abandoned steps that lead away from the dungeon. Her heart thumped with in her chest aching from exhaustion and the torturous pain of all that had transpired. Her burns and wounds throbbed as she reached the top step on the old stone stairwell that lead back into the lower levels of the palace.

The young healer leaned against the wall trying to catch her breath and trying her best to master her out of control sobs. Why had she gone? What was she thinking? Thinking that she could break his spell as simply as she had broken Lady Sif's. Like in the tale she loved so well. The one where the cruel prince is turned into a beast and the sweet maiden saves him from himself. She scoffed at the notion now. He was a monster. Her sweet childhood friend, that shy and smart emerald-eyed boy had turned into a monster. It was like some twisted fairytale where there would be no happy ending where the deep enchantment that imprisoned a kind soul was never broken. No gentle kiss would break this evil spell on him. He was cursed, but not by a cruel wizard or malevolent enchantress, no he had cursed himself. Perhaps Loki was lost.

She remembered the first winter when her father had taken her to odin's palace to be introduced at court. She remembered meeting the two young princes. It had been a delightful winter. She'd traveled to a new world full of peace and beauty; so unlike Vanaheim which was a war ravaged desert where the citizens were at the mercy of pettty warlords. She'd learned of magic, found an accomplished young tutor, she'd learned of snow for the first time... it was so wondrous. She'd made a friend.

They were preparing to leave. Father helped her mount her pretty white pony, a gift from Asgard's king and queen for their young visitor. "Your majesties have shown great hospitality to my lovely, darling daughter," the slender, long mustached, brunette Vanir nobleman clad in white and purple drapes explained as he extended his hand toward his little girl. He affectionately traced his fingers over Dagmar's plump freckled cheeks. She giggled as he tickled her chin.

"You are most welcomed to return anytime, Lady Dagmar," the lovely queen stated and smiled her benevolent golden smile at the young girl.

"It was a delight to see you again, my old friend," King Odin responded in kind toward Lord Audric.

"It has indeed been too long, but matters in Vanaheim are very pressing' he explained a staunch stormy looking coming over his dark colored irises as he looked out toward the rainbow bridge.

"These are perilous times for the Vanir," the Pime Minister of the old realm stated gravely. "The wars in Vanaheim many a life," he nodded to himself.

"We were so terribly grieved at the death of your beloved wife, Ida," The great king expressed and reached out his hands to clamp down on his friend's shoulders.

The Vanir nobleman returned a watery smile in Odin's direction then cleared his throat dismissing the subject. "But with the new friendship between our children I am sure our visits will be more frequent," he said a twinkle now coming in his mahogany eyes. He gave a wink toward the great king and Odin chuckled good-naturedly as he absentmindedly clapped a hand on his eldest son's strong shoulders. Thor was merely a lad only about 11 years of age by Midgardian standards but he was hearty and strong a beautiful child of countenance and even though Dagmar was a bit of funny looking little lass. The king had no doubt that in time she would blossom into an attractive young maid and she was from one of the most influential families in Vanaheim. Lord Audric was the Prime Minister and he had more power in Vanahiem then their own king did.

"It was good to meet you Dagmar," Thor stated enthusiastically sticking out his hands and shaking the young woman's. He gave her arm a vigorous and hearty jiggle that jostled her from head to toe. "You have to come back next year so we can go to the winter games. Oh you will love them. There are Icecapades and sled-dog races and ice-skating competitions. I'll naturally enter a dog team next year... perhaps you could help me train." the young blonde prince went on.

Little Lady Dagmar giggled and bobbed her head. "Ooh that does sound fun,' she responded. "I'll be most certain to come back next year!" she declared then looked up at her loving father.

"Go on, Loki dear," Frigga encouraged her youngest from the sidelines. Loki had nearly hidden behind Frigga's skirt.

"Mother," Loki fidgeted awkwardly as Frigga smoothed back some of his flyaway curlicues ebony locks. "I don't know," the 8-year-old looking Aesir prince began as he dug the toe of his boot around in the vibrant green grass. "What if she,"He started his eyes darting back up the lovely queen for reassurance.

"Nonsense, Loki," the woman draped in gold and peach explained. "You two spent a lot of time together over the season..." she pointed out. "And you worked so hard on your crystal carving dear,"the queen reminded her youngest son as she looked at the tiny angelic looking sculpture in his hands. He noticed her beautiful blue eyes glancing down affectionately at the little ornament in his hands. "Go on, Loki don't be shy," she prodded gently giving an affirming nod and giving him a slight push forward.

Loki approached Dagmar's tiny pony tentatively. His small pale hands clasped behind his back. "Uh...Dagmar," the dark-haired prince started. His green eyes were trained on his polished black boots. "I...I...well...I made something...I...have something...uh," he stammered feeling clumsy and in articulate. "Uh this is for you," he finally got out quickly. He pulled his hands from behind his back and placed it in front of him. He was still a bit shamefaced as he did. Her sweet and large silver eyes squinted taking in the details of the crystal figurine. It was dazzling. It was a little lady with a gorgeous gown. This was fine craftsmanship. She could see the details in the design. The crystal was cut with circles and spiraling patterns, stars and snow flake shapes. But this maiden possessed more than just a lovely gown she had an astonishing set of wings.

"An angel?' little Dagmar gasped as her plump fingers reached out very tenderly to scoop up the loves crystal creation.

"Y-you like it?' the green-eyed youngest asked looking up hopefully at the female child.

"She is lovely," Dagmar squealed she clutched the glass carving to her face. "Is she not wonderful papa?" the child asked her father energetically.

"oh yes, very beautiful," Lord Audric nodded. "What do you say to the prince, Dagmar?" her father asked immediately raising his eye.

"Thank you prince Loki," she said with a smile spreading over her chubby dimpled cheeks.

"She will watch over you, like the angels we made in the snow," Loki explained. His thin finger reached up to point to his creation. "Until you return next Solstice," Loki prefaced.

"Not like them," Dagmar shook her head and giggled.

"yes, like them," he insisted back. "Remember how I told you if they were watching the Frost Giants wouldn't come," he tried to refresh her memory. It had been a couple of weeks since the Vanir girl had first discovered the wonders of snow, but the night had been so magical surely she couldn't have forgotten already.

"Frost Giants!' Lord Audric barked horrified for his daughter at the mention of the creatures. "I hope you were not scary my daughter Prince Loki," the Vanir official stated sternly to the ebony-haired lad. "My Dagmar is a very delicate girl," he expressed.

"No, papa," Dagamr began to correct the Prime Minister. "Loki didn't scare me, he protected me...like an angel," she said with a giggled and a wink at the slender green-eyed boy.

Lord Audric tossed his head back and laughed turning his attention toward Odin and Frigga, "My my, my Frost Giants, angels what active imaginations these youngsters have," he continued to chuckle.

Soon Dagmar and her father, Lord Audric bid the king and queen and the young prince's farewell. The two of them started trotting out pass the gate that surrounded the courtyard and toward the main road that would lead to the Bifrost. Dagmar turned around vigorously waving at her hosts. "Loki," she yelled out, "Thank you for the angel, Don't forget to write!" she reminded him before her and her father dashed off.

Dagmar broke herself from her memories only to notice that she'd slid down the wall and was now sitting in a massive muddy heap on the golden tile floors of the palace. That kind and gentle boy was gone. She had caught a glimpse of him for a moment the night they'd made love. She remembered Sif telling her that something was off with Loki, but then again Sif had never much cared for Loki. perhaps' something had been off, slightly askew, but he was there and had she been there in the morning perhaps he'd still be here now, but perhapsing were futile; that man had been destroyed murdered and buried by the heart of a monster that lied beneath ivory skin. She had carried his child. She had carried the child of a mass murderer in her stomach. Her lips curled as she shook her head refusing to allow the statement to stick. Her stomach turned as if she would retch right then and there.

Slowly the gorgeous gray eyed maiden began to pick herself up off the floor. She looked a horrible sight and she didn't want anyone to see her. She tried her best to remain inconspicuous. She tiptoed down the well-lit hallway ducking behind columns if she thought she detected the slightest rustle. She wanted to get to her chambers quickly. But she was in so much pain the burns were torturous and her arm bled profusely. The open cut was infected with the dirt making it sting. She gripped at her bleeding shoulder just as she neared her door. She put pressure on it trying not to allow the blood to drip of the white carpets in the guests halls to arouse suspicions.

Dagmar staggered toward the door her porcelain fingers tremble as she fumbles to clutch the knob.

She started to turn it, but then she hear's Frandal's jolly voice. "Lady Dagmar," the heartthrob warrior of Asgard calls out to her. His tone is rowdy and robust and full of mirth. She gasped biting her lip and holding back a cry that is ready to escape from all the pain she finds herself in. "You are just the maiden I wanted to see," he declares with a snap of his fingers. "Thor, Volstagg and I were having a little dispute on maidens. We thought to ask Sif, but let's face it Sif is about as much of a maiden as I am," Frandal chuckled. "Would you be a dear my lady and come help us sort these matters out?" the blonde warrior asked as he was now right upon her.

The silver-eyed Vanir woman kept her back turned, but nodded. "It is rather late Frandal, I mean to retire for the evening," she confessed her silvery voice quaking slightly.

"Is it?" the chipper swordsman's asked as he scratched his sunny colored head, "Oh well so it is. A night at the tavern always makes me forget my hours...but the dispute shall be easy to put to rest," she shrugged and flashed a winning grin in her direction only to find the foreign noblewoman still had her back turned to him. "Come my dear Dagmar tis but a moment," he insisted and came and wrapped his chiseled muscular arm around Dagmar's slender shoulders. He felt the way they shook immediately, but before he had a chance to respond to the way the trembled Dagmar let out a whimper as his arm tapped the area where a Frost Giant had sunk its claws into her lovely skin. "Dagmar?" Frandal questioned nervously feeling her sway and crash back into him. "Dagmar what is it?' he asked desperately coming around to face her and catch her propping her up slightly against him and giving her support. "My goodness you're filthy!" he reported.

"Frandal please," the noblewoman whispered as she still clutched her arm. "I merely fell," she expressed,

"Where with in a pigpin?"

"No, I," she began to throw out her arm, but the movement was excruciating as she instantly clutched at her wounded limb once more. Frandal's eye quickly beheld the crimson liquid spilling through milky fingers. He scrutinized her further and then detected the telltale frost bite scars encircling her graceful alabaster neck.

"Dagmar, what has happened?" her friend urged as he gripped her tenderly as he could by her arms.

"Frandal!" a thunderous voice called coming down the corridor, "Did you find some maid which we can question and settle these matters?" The Crown Prince asked he had a goblet in his hand full of wine. 'Oh indeed you did, why hello Dagmar," he sung galloping over to where his two friends stood. The blonde hair to the throne didn't have to take many steps closer before he saw how disheveled Dagmar was. Her clothes were caked with mud and grime her feet were bare and dirty, Her clothes tattered and bloodied. "Dagmar," Thor stated tenderly, "What has..." he started to form the words as he pulled the trembling female into a brotherly embrace. He engulfed her in his large muscular arms enfolding her securely as she melted and started to blubber.

"I shouldn't have gone...I shouldn't have gone...I shouldn't have gone...I shouldn't have gone," the silver-eyed healer blubbered helpless against her old friends solid chest.

"Shouldn't have gone where Dagmar?" Frandal questioned still not sure he had pieced together this peculiar puzzle.

"To see Loki!" she shouted angrily although she wasn't angry at Frandal. She gasped in shock at her tone and covered her plump lips with her hand. She turned back to the golden prince. "Oh Thor you ere right... you were right... he's not the same... he's not...he's ...he's...he's a monster." she hicupped. "I just had to tell him...I just wanted to see him... I wanted to tell him," she started but her words could not come out any more as she wept furiously against Thor's breastplate.

Thor and Frandal exchanged looks. Thor's look was one of disbelief. His sky blue eyes looked around wildly as if trying to search for another explanation for what had happened. Frandal's eyes that were always so jovial smoldered with anger. "Dagmar was it that monster who did this to you?" the slighter built man asked his voice stern. Dagmar nodded unable to bring herself to speak anymore.

"it's ok Dagmar, it's alright," Thor soothed stroking her head mildly as he could with his calloused, Mjolinir wielding hands. "We must get you to the healing room," he explained to her gently. He slowly scooped under her knees picked her up and rushed her to the chambers of medicine.

---

Loki's jade pupils stared vacantly out passed the glowing green shield which kept him at bay. A thought echoed through his mind like Dagmar fleeing footsteps had echoed off of the empty walls of the dungeon as she ran from his cell. He'd hurt her. He'd intentionally injured her and caused her pain. He'd bruised her lovely form. He'd made cry. He'd made her afraid. He'd wounded her when he'd sworn he would protect her. When they were children he promised her that he'd protect her from the Frost Giants.

"Dagmar!" a bright-eyed, dark locked child called enthusiastically as he poked his head into his new friend's bedchamber. It felt good to have someone to call a friend. All his other friends were he and Thor's friends, but he felt as though Dagmar...well it seemed like she was more his friend than Thor's. They had so much in common. They both liked to read. He'd shown her the palace library and went through reading to each other and showing one another their favorite tales and legends. Dagmar was good at chess; she actually presented a challenge and they had several games that ended in a stalemate and she had even beaten him in a round or too. He told Thor he let her win and that was true the first time she beat him. They both liked magic. Loki had never had a friend who actually enjoyed the mystic arts before. And she complimented him, made him feel like his magic was something special and rare she marveled at it. Her eyes would get round and big like silver coins when she saw him do a trick. Even if it was something small like lighting a flame in his palm. She clapped her hands and squealed with delight then would ask him to teach her and of course he'd readily agreed each time; partly because he was desperate to gobble up the praise, but also because he couldn't say no to her. He couldn't say no to her doe gray eyes or her gapped tooth grin that made her freckled cheeks flush like a cherry.

The little maidens room was brightly colored. The walls were painted pink with scenes of flowers and unicorns frolicking through meadows on them. Mother had gone to great lengths to make sure the motherless daughter of Lord Audric felt at home and comfortable. "Dagmar are you still awake?" Loki asked as he stepped in. "Dagmar guess what?" Loki asked chipperly. His slight frame almost couldn't contain his enthusiasm. "It's snowing!" the youngest son of Odin and Frigga blurted out with glee. "Come! Come see!" he encouraged. But no one answered. "Dagmar?" He questioned truly puzzled at the silence to his grand announcement. This was strange, only an hour or so ago the chubby cheeked ebony haired young lady had invited Loki and Thor to a tea party. She had arranged her stuffed animals neatly around table and invited to the two young prince's as guest of honor. She set her china set out and actually served the boys tea and cakes that Frigga had one of the servants bring up for the children. They were at the formal gathering for quite sometime although Thor was getting bored with showing courtly manners to stuffed white teddy bears and velveteen rabbits. He started pretending to be a rebel army captain crashing into the polite affair. He was terrorizing Dagmar's toys and would have continued in his reckless romp, for Thor never enjoyed dignified and refine play, save for the fact that their nurse maid, stodgy old Helga had called them to get ready for bed.

Still that had only been about an hour ago. He suspected Dagmar hadn't gotten into the tub and fallen asleep that quickly. Loki scratched his head as he continued to make his way into her room trying to find the raven haired Vanir child. "Dagmar?" He asked more quietly this time as his vivid green eyes surveyed the area. Some toys and games were still scattered along her white carpeted floor and her lanterns were still glowing brightly it didn't seem as though she was a snooze. Loki's sharp eyes scanned the domicile, he listened intently and finally his ear were tickled by a faint muffled whimpering sound. Loki's dark brows knit together as he followed the tiny cry. It led him to the foot of Dagmar's bed. The sound was so close, but Dagmar's sheets were flat and still lying on top of the mattress. It didn't take much longer for Loki to note that the pitiful catlike mews he was hearing where coming from below. He finally decided to look under the canopy bed only to find the plump little girl cowering under her bed.

"Mar-Mar?' the young prince's voice was perplexed as he gazed at her with hi body bent and tilted and his head turned upside down. Her face was pressed to the floor her hands folded tightly over her head as if she was trying to shield herself from falling debris. He watched intently as her shoulders quivered slightly in time with the sobbing gasps that she was taking. "Are you alright?" Odin's youngest son asked tentatively as he squatted down near the foot of the bed.

"Loki?" she asked timidly she scarcely manged to lift her head enough so that her large gray colored eye could look ar the pale boy's concerned face.

"Yes," he nodded and smiled at her noting that her gentle eyes were filled with tears. "Hey, what are you doing under the bed?' asked his vivid green eyes seemed confused by her new location.

"Hiding," the Vanir child squeaked out and buried her face back in the crook of her arm.

"Hiding?" prince Loki scratched the crown of his head. "Hiding from who?' he asked with a slight giggle. Thor and he often liked to play hide and go seek right before bed. Mostly, they played it to drive their nurse crazy. She'd frantically chase them down the halls yelling that they must go to bed this instant. She'd tell them that when she caught them she would make them both chug a quart of snake oil and then march them straight to Odin. Every now and then she would catch Thor. He'd laugh loudly or stick a limb out so that it wasn't fully concealed. She never caught him though, he kew all the best hiding places he was good at finding hidden nooks and crannies even in the most obvious places. Eventually he'd sneak out from a hidden place behind a bookshelf or inside a vase and find stodgy, old Helga slumped against a wall exhausted after only a few minutes of the game. One time Loki got out his paints and brushes and he and Thor made a mural of their old nanny's face. He snickered with a wicked contentment as the thought ran through his mind. Prince Loki pursed his lips though and took his little finger to scratch through his jet black curls. Last time he checked Thor was still fighting Helga over taking a bath. For the life of him he couldn't imagine why his brother despised bath time so. One time Thor Volstagg, Hogun Frandal and Sif all wanted to see who could go a month without taking a bath. They tried to convince Loki to join into the unhygienic contest, but he refused to be part of their stinky competition. He argued with his brother that he was a prince of Asgard, what would dignitaries think when they came and found a filthy grimy prince. Thor cared not. He was determined to have a manly musk just like the warriors of Asgard after they returned from month-long field training. Frandal bowed out of the contest with in a week. Once one of his many little girlfriends snubbed him because his gold locks were starting to look a bit shabby he headed to the tub. Hogun soon too lost interest in smelling like he was pigfarmer's sun. Volstagg's mother threatened him with the fact that if he did not wash himself up for dinner he would no longer be able to eat dinner and the redhead immediately caved. Sif and Thor were the only two who remained, both diehard to achieve the maximum level of uncleanliness. Finally Loki could no longer take his brother's stench. He got tired of having to douse him in their mother;s expensive perfumes, for even after a bottle was dump on him it could no longer hide the fact that Thor reeked. Loki eventually tricked him into a tub claiming it was a mud bath and he bathed his brother himself. Sif one the little lady had the bragging rights of smelling like full-grown Viking men in a month-long summer battle session. Her mother was thrilled.

Loki slowly reached out his thin hand to clasp at her shoulder. "Are you ok?" He asked quietly. "What's wrong?"

The Vanir girl immediately took Loki by the hand and yanked him so that he was under the bed with her, "Oh Loki, I'm so scared," she confessed now that they were both safe and tucked away under the bed. She was still lying flat on her belly, her freckled cheek pressed toward the gentle fur on the carpet as tears rolled out her eyes. She started to cry harder.

"Scared?" Loki wondered aloud. "Scared of what?" he asked looking around. The young royal's face was completely baffled. Dagmar could not bring herself to answer him as she started to cry harder. The young prince's gut clenched feeling as though he'd upset her even further. "Oh Dagmar," Loki began tenderly as his hand automatically flung out to pat her on her shaking back. "Its ok," he told her trying to be of as much comfort as possible. He couldn't imagine what could have caused her such distress since he'd last seen which had only been an hour or so ago."I'm here," he encouraged still rubbing her back soothingly and leaning his narrow face closer toward her chubbier cheeks. "There's nothing to be scared of," he assured her rubbing soothing circles on her back like mother did at night if he woke up screaming from a bad dream. He started to part his lips and sing to her the lullaby that mother sung to him. It was such a beautiful song. He started to hum it. "come stop your crying it'll be alright," he began with the first line. "Just take my hand hold it tight,"

"I want Papa," young Dagmar blubbered harder.

" Alright," Loki nodded quickly stifling himself from singing another note. He gave her shoulder a firm and reassuring squeeze, "I'll go get him!" Loki responded back instantly with a snap of the fingers as he started to scoot his lanky frame from beneath the bedpost.

"No," Dagmar nearly shrieked. "Don't go!" the gray-eyed child screeched as she quickly clutched on to Loki's wrist holding him in place and not allowing him to shimmy any further away. "Don't leave!"

Loki looked into her terrified, pleading eyes and nodded while swallowing the huge lump he felt forming in his throat. "Mar-Mar, what are you so afraid of?" he asked in a soft whisper instinctively taking his slim fingers and rubbing them over her midnight tresses just as mother did on nights when he'd wake from his sleep in a start torments by frightful dreams.

"Outside," she whispered back. Her voice had grown hoarse with crying. She managed to raise her hand ever so slightly just enough to get her chubby little finger to point toward the window.

"Outside? Outside?" Loki puzzled audibly. "You saw something?"

Lord Audric's daughter bobbed her head to over come with fear to dare speak the name of that which she had seen. "Everywhere" she breathed back the simple description. "So much...they're coming," she attempted to elaborate as she pressed herself next to Loki.

"Who's coming?" the prince asked.

Dagmar lifted her head up and looked into Loki's shiny green eyes. "Snow... Frost giants' she explained and then ducked her head back into the pit made between her folded arms.

"Frost giants? Huh?' the raven haired prince of the golden realm uttered with bewilderment. "What do you mean?"

"The snow Loki... they're coming. They're mounting an army just like in the stories...they're preparing to march on Asgard and turn us all the ice sculptures," Dagmar squeaked.

"Dagmar, what! No! No, that's not true," Loki stated he wiped his brow and chuckled slightly now that he knew her fears were totally irrational.

"Yes it is Loki... yes it is... they're going to..." she began huffing and puffing with exasperation as anxiety engulfed her as she pictured the dreadful blue creatures gripping her up and dragging her away.

"Dagmar there are no frost giants," Loki laughed and patted her on the back. "No Frost Giant would ever rear its ugly head here in Asgard. Not after Father stole their casket. If Father caught any around here he'd... kill them all on sight!" Loki explained to the girl and snapped his fingers.

"But...but...but" Dagmar started to protest, "But the snow," she pointed out. "Whenever I hear a horror story about those dreadful monster's it always starts out on dark cold snowy nights." the gray-eyed girl persisted.

"Well snow is just rain that has frozen over Dagmar it's very natural...doesn't it snow in Vanaheim?" Loki asked. Dagmar wagged her head her black curlicues bobbing as she did. Her face looked positively stricken at the notion. Loki thought of what he had learned of Vanahiem... it was mostly desert so he imagined snow wouldn't be a normal occurrence, but still he hadn't suspected that Dagmar would have thought of snow as a dreadful omen.

"It's just snowing Dagmar... it snows a lot in Asgard when it is winter time. It's very beautiful," The youngest son of Odin told the Prime Minster's daughter eagerly. "Go, go look out the window... You'll see. You'll like it." the young magician insisted. "Thor and I... we often go out and play in it," he tried to tell her to make her feel comfortable.

The young freckle faced girl still looked appalled and horrified. "But the Frost Giants," she questioned.

"There are none. Snow has nothing to do with the Frost Giants... Frost Giants just live where it snows all the time, but many other realms have snow. Asgard, Midgard, Alfheim..." Loki listed. "You can go out n the snow and make things and run around, have snowball fights, ride on toboggans, go ice skating... it's fun Dagmar... come out with me I'll show you!" Loki offered as he started to back out from hiding under the bed. "That's what I was coming to tell you originally that it was snowing and we should go play," Dagmar still looked hesitant. Her eyes still brimmed with tears her lip still quivered. "Come Mar-Mar," Loki said gently once his whole body was out from under the bed. He offered her his pale little hand.

With a deep breath and a thick gulp Dagmar timidly slid her pudgy palm into Loki's slender hand. She slowly slid out from under the bed. "You'll want to bundle up" Loki instructed her as he gave her a tug over to her wardrobe. He pulled out a couple of her scarves and thick fur overcoats. Dagmar wrapped herself up tight and Loki followed suit. Before long the the two were slinking down the hall and out into the garden.

Loki pushed open the great iron door that lead to the outside world draped in white garments. He pushed open the door wide and allowed the chilly winter winds to nip at his pointed nose. Loki burst forth running eagerly toward the exit. He got so excited that he let go of Dagmar's hand that he had held so firmly only moments ago. He ran out into the snow it was thick on the floor going half way up his calves. He spun around in the snow and allowed the crisp, clean snow flakes to catch on his tongue. He laughed to himself until he turned around and saw Dagmar stand on the edge of the steps looking like a frightened deer out at the wonderland around her. He pointed his finger toward his thin lips and thought for a moment until his mind landed a good idea. He smiled that telltale smile that often over took him when he felt particularly brilliant. He stretched his arms at his sides before he flopped back into the soft white powder. He began flapping his arms and legs. He got up and looked proudly at the pattern he made in the snow. Then he did it again and again until her had a complete circle of the characters in the snow. He saw Dagmar poking her head out from under her fury hood to see what he was making. He scampered back over to her excitedly, goof grin on his chilly looking face. He grabbed her hand. "Don't be afraid Mar-Mar," he said breathlessly taking her soft blue mitten covered hand.

"But the...the..."

"I'll protect you from the Frost Giants, milady," he stated and kissed her palm. Dagmar beamed back up at him. Her smile was large as a shining sun and full of holes. Frandal had teased her when they first met and called her Hagmar...It was a cruel joke, but honestly couldn't understand why he would call her that. Dagmar wasn't a hag. Helga his nurse was a hag, but Dagmar...she was... he blushed... Personally, he couldn't stop himself from looking at Dagmar.

Dagmar clutched his hand firmly as he guided her to the circle he had made with the strange design.

"What are these?" Dagmar askded baffled by the beauty of the creations that her friend had made in the snow. She pointed to them. They looked like people, but more graceful like lovely dancers. Surely these were not the makings of Frost Giants.

"They are snow angels," Loki shrugged.

"They are beautiful," Dagmar said spinning around and observing the mighty angel army that encircled her.

"They'll help protect you from the Frost Giants too," he winked. "You wanna learn how to make one," Loki shrugged as he dragged his foot through the snow looking down. But Dagmar had beaten him the prince to the punch as she flopped back in the snow and rolled about. They played for a long time. Loki showing Dagmar how to make a snowman. Together they made a great big one. They chases each other through the ice-covered trees. But finally they were cold and tired and quickly made their way inside. "Did you like it?' Loki asked as he and his soggy friend plodded their way back through the corridor to their rooms slowly peeling off their damp scarves and mittens and coats.

"It was wonderful!" Dagmar exclaimed a little too loudly. She flung her arms out a twirled about merrily.

Loki's narrow face lit up seeing his new friend's delight. "See no Frost Giants" Loki explained to her with a wink.

Dagmar's face reddened slightly. "I don't know why I thought that. It was silly, there was nothing scary about being out there at all it was beautiful," she flagged at herself. "Especially the snow angels," Dagmar expressed as Loki lead her further down the corridor back to the room that was hers.

"Yes," the little prince shrugged. "They're fun to make," he nodded. "Thor's come out terrible though," he shook his head thinking about how his brother's awkward and large body made such strange designs in the snow. "I call them snow beasts!" Loki teased.

"That's not right!" Dagmar chided. "They can't be all that bad," she stopping in the middle of the hall to sit down in one of the beautiful armchairs and pull off her white fur boots.

"They are bad...i tell him they scare off birds," Loki snickered. Dagmar's face scrunched up with worry.

"They don't lure Frost Giants do they?" she asked nervously as she gave futile attempts to try to pull off her boot.

Loki's lip curled, 'What?" he questioned. "What? No! NO!" he expressed. "There are no Frost Giants in Asgard Mar-Mar... never," he told her outright. She sighed with relief still struggling to undo the high laced boot. "Here," the raven haired prince offered hoping up off of the seat next to her and bending to his knees and helping her undo her shoe. "Guess you don't get much wear out of these in Vanahiem," he chuckled as he easily untied the strings and slid the boot off of her small feet. Her little feet were red and chilly from their first exposure to snow. She nodded and thanked him as he passed her the animal skin footwear and they walked on a little further until they came to one of the small sitting rooms with a small fireplace. Loki easily lit the hearth with a slight of hand trick that allowed him to produce a flame. Dagmar clapped as the pair took a seat warming their cool feet while the petite flames sizzled the logs.

"You believe in angel's Loki?" Dagmar asked as she gave a tired yawn.

"Yes," the prince replied rubbing his hands together and allowing them to get toasty. "Mother says, that when people we care about leave us and cross to Valhalla, they become angels to watch over us, protect us" he shrugged.

"Perhaps my mother is my an angel?" Dagmar mused with a sigh. Loki slowly reached out his hand to touched the plump child on her shoulder. She smiled up at him not feeling the need to cry any longer. "Or perhaps you are," Dagmar added quickly as she pressed a quick peck on Loki's frozen cheek.

Loki's green-eyes bulged. "Wh-Wh-What you do that for?" he asked feeling hot all over. The little maiden didn't respond rather she got up grabbed her stuff and scampered toward her room. Loki's mouth hung open for quite a while he was completely stymied by what Dagmar had done, but at the same time he kinda liked it...maybe...maybe not... his eyes darted frantically across the room hoping that his older brother hadn't seen the display. He exhaled noting that the close was clear. He touched his pale hand toward his cheek. His normally cool flesh now felt warm.

He wandered slowly back down the golden hallway until he made his way to his room. "Loki," he heard his mother's voice call. "There you are!" Frigga stated a bit fussily rushing toward him. "You were supposed to be in bed...where were you, young man?" she demanded with a playful sort of huffiness as she met him in the middle of the hall arms fold over her white nightgown and slippered foot patting quickly.

"Mother...I...I...I...I was outside," He admitted shamefacedly looking down as he marched toward her.

"Outside! Loki at this hour? Unsupervised? In this weather?' she shuck her head worry naturally engulfing her for events now passed.

"I...I wanted to show Dagmar the snow... you know in Vanaheim it never snows and I wanted her to see it while it was all crisp and clean, before Thor goes traipsing through it like a big lumbering bilgeschnipe and messes it all up," he explained reasonably to Frigga.

The queen couldn't help but giggle at her youngest child's expression. "I assume you had a good time," she stated dragging her hand gently across his wet hair... "You're sopping wet," she confirmed and clicked her tongue.

"Yes, mother...we had so much fun..." Loki began and started to elaborate about the snowy adventure he'd had with the young Vanir girl.

"Come dear," Odin's wife said gently to her youngest child, "Let's get you out of those wet things," she expressed as she took him by the hand to walk only a few more steps to his bedchamber. She slowly helped pull him from the damp clothing and getting him some warm sleepwear to put on. She pulled the wet evergreen tunic from off of his thin pale chest and helped him slide out of the soggy black bottoms. Then she carefully pulled a long-sleeved sleeping shirt over the little boy thin body. Loki sat down on the edge of the bed still chatting sleepily as Frigga hummed and rolled back his quilts and blankets gently ushering him to lay down on the cool and comfortable mattress. "Blow your nose," the blonde woman instructed sweetly as she placed a handkerchief in front of Loki's frost reddened sharp nose. He obeyed blowing his nose clean while the queens manicured finger's swipe tenderly across his forehead and she gingerly lowered his back toward his soft and inviting pillows.

"Then she said something real funny, mama," Loki went on eyes half-lidded and sleepy as he felt the beautiful queen take a seat next to him on the edge of the bed.

"What did she say?"

"She said I was an angel?"

"Well...what's so funny about that?" Frigga shrugged.

"Well aren't angel's those that have passed on from here...I'm still alive."

"Angels are among us everyday, they a beautiful, brave, strong loving people, they do good. They show mercy and are kind, they protect and heal, there are many people like that Loki,"

"Like you and Papa and Thor?" Loki inquired so drowsy now he couldn't even keep his eyes open. "And mistressigridandmarmar," he slurred feeling heavy. He yawned, "Andyoumamandandheimdal," he went on.

"And you what about you Loki?" Frigga asked tenderly.

'I'm...I'm..." Loki allowed the wor'd to fall still on his lips sleep taking claim.

"You're my little angel," the queen whispered kissing her son's forehead.

Finally, he managed to break his trance-like gaze at nothing but a barren corridor that led away from his empty holding place. He blink reacquainting himself with his squalid surroundings. He was no longer that neat and tidy child who frolicked and romped through lovely halls and corridors within the stately palace. He was an unkempt vagabond left to wall in filth. The stench of the cell once again swept into his nostrils as the sweet smells from childhood drifted away. He was sitting on his knees still in the same spot where he had sank down to after Dagmar fled from his presence. Maybe that had been a few hours ago, perhaps a whole day... maybe a few days. He hated how time was like running water that slipped through his fingers. Fingers. His rested idly in his lap. His eyes glanced down and he looked at his hands. They shook violently as he held them in the air to observe them. They were disgusting and begrimed like the paw of some mangy beast of the field. His lip curled as he took them in They continued quaking like withered leaves on a limb in a cool autumn wind. Desperate to stop the shivering of his fingers, he drove them into the mud burying them in the brown clay floor. He pressed them in there deep and he pressed them deeper still until her felt the mud and slime and gunk ooze between his fingers. He'd tried to clutch them into fist bellow the soggy, soft dirt, but the quivering of his hands didn't cease. No the quaking continued and it spread quickly becoming a harsh tremor that rippled up his arms and into his shoulders then finally trickling down his spine and back. His teeth chattered. He didn't know how it was possible for him to feel cold in the sweltering prison, but a chill ran across his body as sweat trickled down his back and brow.

Annoyed he yanked his hands from the mud. They still quaked, but they shook to a distinct rhythm. It was the rhythm of Dagmar's throbbing heart rate. He could still feel Dagmar's pulse fluttering furiously against his thumb from when he'd pressed his right hand tight around her swanlike neck causing the cold burns to form on her milky throat. He could still feel her supple flesh tear as he dug his now talon like nails into her forearm. He felt the subtle warmth from her blood as the liquid rolled to get caught beneath his black claws. He thought her could still detect the moisture on the back of his hands from when her hot tears splashed down

He absently lifted one of his begrimed hands to rub at the offended area of his dirty face. His palm rubbed up against the rough patches from the places where facial hair started to sprout. The strange feeling of hair upon his chin and jawline jarred him slightly from his musings. He had never much cared for facial hair. At least not on himself. He'd tried to grow it once in his adolescence, trying to be like his older brother, but it didn't suit him.

Loki's thumb continued tracing across his fuzzy, matted and muddied facial hairs until he detected a small rise in his skin. The area was tender. It was a small welt. It was from the impact of her ring grazing across his jawline in her anger at him. The ring hand been on her engagement finger. Her betrothal ring.

He growled and pulled his hand roughly away from rubbing the small bruise. Dagmar's hand coming across his face had hurt his pride more than his flesh, surely her petite hand a lone handed left the nasty mark. She was wearing a ring, solid silver with a big amethyst stone shining from the center. A betrothal ring. The betrothal ring must have been from Olaf. Olaf. That was the name she had said, was it not? The scraggly prisoner puzzled as he pulled up images to his mind's eye of the Vanir delegates that he knew in court. He remembered Olaf. He was statuesque, long chestnut hair riding down his back. He had a goatee and mustache. He thought he'd talked with the foreign guest once or twice. One time he'd challenged Loki to game of Segnet. It started off as a very simple wager. Nothing more than Olaf boasting about how he was a champion Segnet player in his university days. Apparently he'd noticed Loki's handsome Segnet board in the hall of games set up for state banquets after dinner entertainment. Loki politely stated that he hadn't had a worthy opponent in quite sometime if Olaf wanted to put his money where his mouth was. Olaf wanted to place a wager on the friendly match, just to make things a bit more interesting. Loki smirked slyly at the drunkard brash rantings of his want to gamble. He pulled out his chair and set down at the table. "The stakes then?" he asked arching his eyebow.

"A horse," Dirkson declared with a drunken slur waving for one of his manservant to bring him another cup of grog.

"A horse?" Loki asked back dully. Besides segnet, the Vanir statesman other hobby was riding and breeding fine racing horses.

"Not juz any horz," Olaf errupted not willing to allow the smooth talking prince to keep him from what he truly wanted.

"Any stallion or mare in the stables," Loki agreed with a pleasant nod and a gentlemanly wave of the hand.

"Slepinir!" the noble from another realm demanded.

Loki's green eyes went wide. "Slepinir, is a colt, that is not with in the agreement," Loki stated simply.

"Don't try to con me trickster!" The guest demanded slamming his hand down on the table and making the pieces jump off their posts.

"And what do you have to offer that could even be worth the rare specimen?" Loki countered.

"My family crest," Olaf sated firmly as he pulled the medallion from inside his shirt and showed the fine craftsmanship of the trinket.

"You would stake your family name for a newly born colt?" Prince Loki posed.

"My family name, the gold of my treasury, my carriage and the clothes off my back this very night!" Olaf ranted angrily. "Now do we have an accord!" he demanded.

"All that and a weeks time of you cleaning out Slepnir's stall," Loki posed devious glint in his eye as he did so.

"Sir!" Olaf's man-servant called out to Dirkson.

"Quiet!" Olaf stifled the man. "Agreed," he stuck out his strong hand and shuck with Prince Loki.

The prince shrugged, "very well," Loki stated simply snapping his finger and arranging the pieces on the table.

The chestnut haired man sneered at the antic. "No magic," he barked brusquely, "Segnet is a battle of the mind now a time for smoke and mirrors," he snapped still chugging another point of his alcohol.

"Quite," the green-eyed prince replied as he watched a bit a frothy liquid lodge on the man's goatee. When he lost their friendly little game he threw a fit and accused Loki of cheating. It mattered not. Olaf was dismissed and sent away without the clothes on his back and was made to report for stable duty the next morning.

This was who Dagmar wanted? He was surprised the man became a diplomat. He was overly fond of drink and short tempered. He was quarrelsome and demanding without just cause during council meetings and hearings. He'd noted the way Olaf interacted with the women at court he had a roaming eye and yet he spoke harshly and with dominance wanting completely loyalty and submission from the women he was with. So many years he'd fawned over her. How long as a lad had he stumbled and tripped over himself attempting to impress her? He would have given her the world on a silver platter had that been what she truly desired. Had she asked him to fetch her one of the leaves of Yddrasil he would have happily run and brought her back an entire branch. He would have scarcely kissed the ground she tread upon if that was what she needed from him. But she'd rebuffed him as she had times before. She was gentle with it, but she rejected him all the same. Even after he'd poured out his heart and soul to her through every word and tear kiss and caress, she'd still turned from him. He'd put the throne of Asgard with her grasp...it was only a word away from being hers and nonetheless she spurned him. He would have been faithful to her until the end of time, but she would not be his. No. She was due to give herself in matrimony to Olaf. Loki growled at the thought. Olaf who he was sure would consider her as a notch in his belt. The first wife of many to come no doubt. This is who Dagmar saw herself with? He shook his head in horror at the notion. This is who she would pledge herself to until her dying breath? This was who she'd give her body for 1000 years.

Pictures from their night together ran across Loki's mind in a torturous sort of pleasure. Her body pressed against his so tightly that not even a hair could separate them. Her damp tongue teasing and tickling sensitive areas of his skin. Her pomegranate lips tasting so sweet and divine on his own thin mouth. Instinctively, his tongue darted out to wipe across his beaten, cracked and bloodied lips. How he loved her. He panted as her scent of sugar and fresh jasmine blossoms wafted back to his nostrils. Perhaps her enticing perfume still lingered in the air from just before he'd caused her to run from his presence. He breathed in again his narrow nostrils flaring to catch a whiff. It was so good to smell such a pleasant aroma when normally his nose was accosted with the pungent nauseous odors of refuse that powdered the dungeon. Loki felt his body fill with goosebumps from excitement and anticipation when he remembered her moaning his name.

The once prince shook himself violently from the vision of passion and intimacy from the night so long ago. It was only a little over a years time, but it felt like centuries. That was in another age and another time. That was fleeting, sentimental dream and it had no place in his heart anymore. The disheveled raven locked ex-prince slammed his green eyes shut and gritted his teeth crushing the dreadful feeling of affection that sought to well up from deep within him.

Loki got to his feet, enraged. He looked around wildly searching for something to fling or destroy, but the cell was blank and void of decoration. His shoulders heaved as he sucked in the stifling suffocating air. He let out a harsh breath then startled laughing frantically before he heard Dagmar's silvery voice scream out shrill from stress and horror, "I WAS PREGNANT!" He stifled his cackling collecting himself best could. He dropped his head and bit his thin bottom lip to keep himself from sobbing like a scolded child. The once prince shook his head vigorously as guilt started to gnaw at him from the pit of his stomach. She had only agreed to be with Olaf to protect herself from the scorn of court gossip being caught in such a condition. Court was not a pretty place for such scandal to be discovered. The noblewomen would drag her name through the dirt. How could she have explained to her father that she carried the baby of a dead man. She'd only done it to shield their baby from a life of being completely fatherless. She'd only done it to cover him from having to add child abandonment to the list of his crimes.

"You're a monster," Loki heard her say in a weak trembling voice while his Jotun hand held fast around her throat. Her silver eyes quivered as she dare not stare back into his gleaming pupils.

Loki's emerald eyes flickered as he batted back the moisture that started to for there. He'd rather hear her call him "Angel." What was he? What had he done? How could he? Guilt quickly faded from his heart. His lips snarled like an angry hound. Had she really tried to protect him? He tossed his head back and now cackled with even more ferocious venom. NO. No she hadn't protected him when he needed her the most. She'd run away. When he'd felt scared and lost and confused, when he'd so desperately needed someone to turn to she'd fled the scene. She had left his fragile heart to fend for itself. She had left it to freeze in the ice and it would not be thawed out with her tears or her much too late confessions of love.

He made his way to the corner of the cell where he was provided the luxury of straw and granite laid over the mud and sludge to use as a place to sleep. He had tried to avoid it. It as so pitiful and disgusting. Even the horses in the stables were given more comfort than that. "Monster's sleep in caves," he reminded himself as he frowned and looked at the thatch and sand that beckoned him. He sneered before his eyelids closed on their own accord. He felt himself sway and caught himself before he would have surely collapsed into the grime the couldn't even be referenced as a floor. Begrudgingly he plodded to the corner where the straw stack was. He was tired, so very weary. He smoothed out the straw before crawling into the pile. He hadn't slept in a long while. It was hard to sleep when one was strapped and bound in electricity producing shackles. He'd drift. His consciousness would fade his only defense mechanism to shield him from the unending pain, but eventually a strong current would ripple down the electricity charged chains and shoot through his body and jar him from a thing a sweet as slumber. He was fast asleep before he hit the hay.

---

When she came to she was lying on her back in her lovely room shaded the color of pink and red inside the house of Odin. "Dagmar, my child," he father clasped her hand firmly, yet gently as her silver eyes blinked taking in his face.

"Papa?" she coughed as she started to smile up at him.

"Shh, shh, my little one," the white bearded Vanir man's eyes were misty as he looked down at his only child.

Her eyes squinted and she did her best to breathe easy, "How are you feeling, my little angel?" he asked earnestly as his weathered fingers ran up from her hand to feel the terrible scars on her the skin of her arm.

She winced slightly at his delicate touch but manged to smile. "I'm alright papa, I'm alright," she assured him. "When did you arrive?" she inquired making her tone jovial as she attempted to sit up in her bed.

Immediately she felt her father's hands push her down so that she was still resting on the silk pillow. "Just this morning. I was so very concerned when the messenger came from the palace." he explained patting her pale fingers with affection. "I cannot believe that monster would do such a thing to you, my dove," Lord Audric carried on he pushed up from her bedside and began pacing right in front of the foot of her bed.

"Father, it was my fault," Dagmar mumbled slightly.

"He will be dealt with though, Odin has assured me that these matters will not be taken lightly... Olaf will see to it that you are avenged for this disrespect my sweet angel" he continued to mutter he walked around and raked his hand through his long thin white beard.

"Avenged? Father, no! Please...it was my fault," Dagmar insisted sitting up and trying to grab the sides of her father's tunics as they fluttered by.

"Your fault!" Lord Audric's head shot up looking away from his curly-toed, pointy, gold shoes "Your fault?' His eyes looked questioningly at his beloved daughter. "Your fault," his tone fell cool and calm. He went over and set down on the rose colored quilts of her bed and brought his warn brown hand up to smooth her crinkling forehead. "Shh, Dagmar, darling you are confused," he explained to her mildly once again trying to ease her back to a resting position.

"No, no Papa...I'm not I shouldn't have gone down there." She confessed. 'I knew it was forbidden and still I went. I disobeyed a decree. I provoked him."

"Provoked him? Provoked him?" the Prime Minister to Vanaheim scoffed. "Dagmar how in the world did you provoke him? What did you do? Go beat a stick along the bars of his cage? Make faces at him?' The noble man nearly through his head back and laughed. "Your presence there is not provoking him," the Vanir elder shuck his head dismissing Dagmar's gentle protests.

"But I shouldn't have gone father...I shouldn't have gone," she insisted shaking her head. Her neck stated to ache from the movement. She gasped and winced. Bringing her light-colored fingers up to feel around her long neck. She could still feel the deep ridges and grooves that the Frost Bite burns had left in her skin, but she imagined that they no longer were black and blue.

"Hush now Dagmar," he chided her lovingly. "He killed the warden Ingvar," her father stated. "He drove those poor guards crazy, changed poor Sif into a toad, all those monstrous thing he did on Midgard now attacking you the way he did." The older man's shoulders shook with a shivering shudder. "You dare not blame yourself for him Dagmar!" He scolded bringing a firm hand to squeeze on the forearm of her undamaged arm. "You dare not defend him!" he warned her.

Dagmar's silver pupils got wide as she gazed into her father's furious amber eyes. She dropped her head, she had never been able to look him square in the eye when he was heated. He must have noted how stern and scolding his voice sounded. He reached out his hand and wiped her brow lovingly, "He was my friend father...I have thought of him much...I lo," she started only to feel the gentle touch of her father's hand along her forehead.

"he is a vengeful maniac, Dagmar!" Lord Audric uttered with disdain. "Why did you go to the awful dungeon?' Her father asked baffled as if trying to piece together a jigsaw puzzle of 5000 pieces and he had no idea where to begin.

"I had to see him Papa," Dagmar blurted out.

"Why?" Lord Audric shook his head.

"I had to say something to him."

"Say something to him? Dagmar he's a horrible-"

"I had to father... I had to get it off my chest...I just...Father, before Loki's death..." Dagmar began grasping at his strong fingers. "His alleged death...While he was king...I" she started her eyes dampening and without any warning she felt the tears flowing down her face. "Something...I...did...we did..."

"It is alright, my angel," Lord Audric explained as he engulfed his daughter in a strong embrace and wrapped his thin but sturdy arms. "Do not think on him or anything that happened in the past...he will be dealt with," he stated and kissed her warm forehead.

"No Father, you...you don't understand..." she uttered between sniffles.

"Loki is going to lose his magic, he won't harm you again or anyone," he promised. "Odin will still need you to help with the extraction process my dear, but not until you are well and strong," the gray-bearded man explained. He kept scraping his thumb over her alabaster forehead and the ebony baby hairs that made up her brow. Dagmar winced. She scarcely felt her father's caress scalp. Her silver eyes looked slowly across the room. A room she had spent so many moments of her childhood in. Her childhood when her and Loki played. Where's they'd practiced magic and read books together. Where they'd shared meals and secrets, worked on jigsaw puzzles, talked for hours. Her eyes finally fell on a small glass figurine, with the beautiful wingspan... a gift of from a fallen angel. Dagmar sighed. She felt water prick behind her cloud colored eyes. "Now you are to speak to your husband to be Dagmar, he traveled a great many miles in only a days time to be with you in your time of recovery," the gray-haired Vanir told his beautiful daughter.

"I am tired papa, I wish not to talk. " she stated allowing her body to flop limply on her pillow as she closed her sweet silver eyes. "Papa I've meant to talk to you about..."

"Olaf!" she gasped noting the statuesque figure enter the room.

Lord Audric turned around and looked up proudly at his soon to be son-in-law. He bent over and gave his little girl a sweet kiss on the forehead before pushing one of her straying black tresses gently behind her ear. "We will talk soon my angel," he ensured her before rising to his feet. He gave an approving nod to the statesman before he exited his daughter's quarters.

'Olaf," Dagmar began again as she brought her hand up around her collar instinctively. She only irritated the burns. "I..."

The long-haired brunette merely put out his thick hand silencing her. "I told you I did not approve of your coming here," he stated firmly as he crossed the room to be by his bedside.

Lady Dagmar shook her head."I was summoned by Odin himself, it is not with in your right to keep me from the king's request."

"And is it within my right to protect that which is mine... protect my honor?" he asked of her harshly his voice rising. Dagmar's eyes flickered and batted at his cruel tone, but she remained steadfast in her stance. "Now you are hurt from it." he looked her over with his harsh eyes. "I do not want a scarred bride," he stated as he scrutinized her to inspect for blemishes.

"The burns are mild and will heal in a day or so,' she shrugged and looked down at her hands and played with the bed spread.

"It matter's not!" he barked gruffly. "I am owed recompense for my when what is mine has been damaged." he expressed. 'This is not only a personal outrage, but it is a disrespect to the Vanir," the young representative protested boisterously. "You are an ambassador of Vanaheim and Loki's attack on you is a political matter now. He shall be punished!" The nobleman growled he began pacing about.

"Olaf," Dagmar said between a yawn. "The matter was more personal.' the gray eyed woman explained. "It wasn't political." she went on slowly allowing her body to fold into the comfortable mattress.

"it matters not," Olaf replied in a brusque manner. "It has political implications," he nodded greedily to himself.

"Loki was my childhood friend. We were very close..." she stated with an overly fond sigh.

"I am aware," Olaf raised his head and looked at her a scowl etched on his face.

"What I'm saying is..I went to see him for sentimental reason not on an ambassadorial assignment." she tried to to explain. "You should not take the visit out of context. Loki will already be punished enough for what he has done," Dagmar said taking a long exhale. "Do not make ore trouble for him," she nearly pleaded.

Olaf rolled his eyes at the injured woman's gentle request. "You should sleep now, you must save your strength to work with the other healers to make sure that proper fetters and bridles are given to that animal!" he confirmed. He drew closer to her bed. Her linked his hand forcefully behind her neck thrusting her to sit up so that he could mash his lips against her's. The kiss was rough and domineering she scarcely had a chance to respond as he moved his tongue inside her mouth. He pulled away and allowed her body to flop back down against the bed as he left the room. He went out the room with loud, stomping feet and he closed her door roughly causing things on her nightstand to topple over. She watched the domino effect as perfume bottle slammed into a vase and vase knocked into a portrait frame, which collided with a small glass figurine of a maiden in a lovely and intricate dress, with the massive wings. It seemed as if she watched the tiny, fragile crystal carving tumble from her nightstand. She watched in slow motion in horror as the beloved knick knack fell to the floor. Her mouth was open pursed from uttering a breathy "No!" Her hands outstretched to catch the trinket, but she missed it by a mile.

Dagmar flung from her bed, pushing back the quilts. The quick movement caused her arm to ache, but the pain scarcely mattered. She knelt, her hands hovering over the broken gift as she found herself fumbling to pick up the sharp, shattered fragments or the fallen angel.

---

"More drastic actions must be taken against Loki!" One courtier shouted as the 50 members of Odin's council slowly began to trickle in to the Great Chamber of Summon. The delegates looked weary. The hours were wee, but the meeting was that of the utmost importance and so all the lord and earls and scholars of the realm med their way to the council chambers of Odin's palace.

"This is an outrage!" A Vanir delegate bellowed standing up and pumping his fist in the air.

"Loki has gone too far!" yelled out a noblewoman. Other started to clap and cheer and clamor among themselves calling for death and execution. The blonde-haired prince exchanged a nervous glance with his father. Odin's face did not falter at the chants and roars of the council members though. It remained firm. Although he was weary. He struck his scepter against the marble ground and it called the squabbling delegates away from their fussing. Their heads all swiveled to attention facing the great golden king. Odin raised a steadying hand, but did not lift from his throne.

Algrim, Odin's chief adviser took the stand. He came and took the podium before the hall filled with lords. "Order, people order,' the pointy eared councilman declared. "His Grace, Crown Prince Thor, will be presiding over this session," the court minster informed the delegates.

For a moment the council members looked confused. Odin was present why was he not presiding over the affair. Soon the question was dismissed as the Viking lords and ladies started to call out.

"This has gone to far your highness, Loki is on a rampage!" a stocky built, well painted and opulently dressed noblewoman proclaimed before all.

"Loki will be punished for his actions," Thor interjected quickly as he felt the tension rise among the council members who had all convened in the middle of the night due to the recent developments.

"My dear Prince Thor," Lord Audric began shaking his head. "Since Loki has been brought back to Asgard it has been promised to the people that Loki will be penalized for his wrong doings and yet we see not such penalties," chimed in an elder of Asgard.

The blonde prince nearly choked on hearing the insinuation. "Loki is in prison.." Thor began. The thunderer's voice rising octaves as if he was attempting to bring the crystal domed shaped ceiling down.

"Really?" the pudgy elder mocked. He grabbed his bowl full of jelly belly and laughed heartily. "You could have fooled me," he continued to scoff. He stepped away from his chair and moved to take the center of the round floor. He extended his arms to address all the delegates from Asgard and abroad. "I could have sworn he was free to roam the countryside all the mayhem he has caused," the rich man sneered and turned and cast a condemning look at the now only prince of the realm.

"The citizens grow fearful, my lord," the head of security of the Imperial City reported. "Rumors spread through the streets that Loki will awaken Ragnorok," He continued. "Children are advised not to go out at night for fear that Loki will crawl from deaths of the palace prison and slay them!" Other delegates started attesting to the terrible wives tales that were starting to spread about Loki.

"That is absurd," Thor immediately defended.

"It is obvious that your efforts highness have been too soft," he spoke his tone was harsh and condescending toward the regal blonde prince.

The thunderer's stormy blue eyes squinted as he glared at the Vanir official. He had little interaction with the nobleman since his introduction to court little over a century ago, but he didn't like him. He was a harsh, arrogant gutless man. "Loki has suffered for his crimes and he will suffer still," the golden prince said with remorse.

"He has not suffered enough," the brunette Vanir stated firmly with a profound nod.

"It is not up for you to decide how the prisoner should be punished, Sir Olaf," Thor corrected his voice rippled as if he was on the verge of a bellow. "You are not a member of the Council of Asard!" Thor growled reminding the Vanir delegate of his place. He was welcome in the court of lords and he could voice an opinion, but he could make no policy.

"Well allow me to disagree, young highness," Olaf Dirkson sneered he stepped away from his place within the back of the oval-shaped room and marched toward the podium from which Prince Thor tried to defend his brother. "Now that Dagmar has been involved in the prisoner's little stunts it has become an inter-realm affair," Sir Olaf shot out. The room filled with whispers and murmurings at his words.

"We are sorry for any pain that has been caused to Lady Dagmar, she is a dear friend of the royal family and is being given the utmost care," stated Algrim as he came and stood next to Prince Thor who looked baffled at the words of Olaf.

"Your apologies cannot solely make amends for the crimes that have been committed against my wife to be," Olaf began he waved a dismissing hand at Odin's adviser.

"And what is it exactly that you want?' the wizened counselor asked he folded his thin arms over his chest and looked questioningly at the statesman.

"Lady Dagmar Audricdottir is the daughter of the Prime Minister of Vanaheim an attack on her is a political attack from one realm to the next. An ambassador of Vanaheim was assaulted!" Olaf began he scratched flippantly under his chin"and that can not go without recompense," he explained and shook his head clicking his tongue.

"No recompense is owed you," Thor ground out as he narrowed his jewel blue eyes and glared at the handsome representative from another world.

"I beg to differ, Thor Odinson," the Vanir replied back coldly. "According to the treaty of Ette," he continued. "In a situation such as this when an official of the Vanahiem government is injured we can call forth the right of Substitution," Olaf Dirkson explained staunchly.

"And how is it that you wish to proceed with this, Dirkson," Odin finally spoke up. His voice was a calm wave but it was no less powerful a thing not to be trifled with.

The arrogant young ambassador was throne off by being confronted with the golden king's voice. It threw him off only for a moment, but then he regained his composure. "Majesty," the noble of Vanahiem spoke as he gave a sweeping bow of a gesture. "I believe a public flogging of that criminal will suffice. So that his own flesh suffer's damage just as the flesh of my lovely bride to be has undergone deformation at his hand." Olaf proffered clenching his fist as he raised it in the air as if already sealing the deal.

The crowd grew silent and still to the point where everyone could hear their own breaths being sharply sucked back in. Thor turned his head to his father's head of council seeking some wisdom. The council member wrapped his bony fingers around the crown prince's shoulders. Thor looked back at his father's his blue eyes searching, pleading with his father to deny Olaf Dirkson's cruel claim. Odin's remaining eyes squinted just a bit and he kept that eye trained on the delegate and not looking back at the Prince coming into his kingship.

"What you ask for is out of line Dirkson!" Thor rumble like thunder and it jolted the stunned members of the council and the nobles from their gaping.

"It is well with in my rights,"Olaf retorted. "You would agree to grant a kitchen hand's request, but not mine?" he asked testily. "I represent his majesty of Vanaheim... to deny such a claim would surely jeopardize Asgard's relations with such a long term ally."

"You will not make threat's here!" Thor reminded the non-Aesir, He lifted his hammer and pointed it the chiseled brunettes handsome face. The threat of the mighty instrument quickly made his claims draw to an end.

"I only call upon the ancient rights. An Eye for an Eye and Skin for Skin,"

"You cannot demand royal blood!" the bulky blonde roared shattering the eerie silence that had come over the assembly.

"I was led to believe that upon his imprisonment, the king revoked his title their th prisoner, Loki, that soulless dragon is technically not a member of the royal family." Olaf countered.

"Loki is already due to face Magic Extraction and that is punishment enough for him. He will lose all his abilities and he will no longer be a threat to anyone while he is imprisoned." Thor reasoned before the hall of elders and officials.

"My Prince," a lieutenant of the Einherjar spoke up. "I believe that the Vanir speaks with some wisdom. Loki has to be made an example of. Thus far all the punitive action take against him have been with in the palace. Matters that the people of Asgard our not privvy to see. I think that a public flogging would ensure the citizens of Asgard that Loki's misdeeds are not simply being overlooked. It would dispel some of the rumors a superstitions that have started to circulate in the streets. To actually see him being punished would allow the people of Asgard to feel as though their safety and peace of mind is at the forefront of the priorities of the royal family." The Einherjar explained.

The argument was reasonable enough, but Thor could not agree to it. He could not give his blessing to Loki being beaten in the arena as if it was some sport. The populace would come out and watch their hadn't been a open flogging in quite sometime. It was a horrible form of punishment. To be led out before all and stripped in front of the masses the have your hide and back beat bloody as if you were an unruly bull being subdued. To have the crowd shout at you and spit at you and throw their garbage at you while a whip cut into your side. It was unbearable. The tormenters would not relent in their beating not until they'd humiliated the poor soul so much so that they begged for mercy. If they begged for mercy to soon they'd be branded weak. They'd wear the mark of cowardice for the rest of their days, but if they never pleaded, they could likely die. Thor felt a shiver run down his spine as he thought of Loki. Loki was so frail now. He was sickly and thin, nearly skeletal, his body was covered with sores and burns and other festering oozing wounds, how long would he even be able to stand under the floggers whip? It actually caused the mammoth muscled mallet wielder to take a deep breath and then gulp.

---

"I cannot believe you Odin," Frigga muttered miserably as her bejeweled fingers clenched the marble banister around the balcony of her chamber. "I cannot believe you wish to do this terrible thing," she spat turning around the face the king. He had removed much of his regal attire and was slowly coming out onto the balcony behind her. The night was gorgeous and filled with stars the air was balmy and breezy, but she might as well have been in Jotunheim for the chill she felt run through her.

"I did not make this decision lightly, Frigga," the king explained to her as he allowed the spring breeze to tease his flesh as he stood close to his wife. He reach out to touch her, but the lovely woman recoiled shaking her head. Odin frowned as she pulled her gentle hand away from his, "I tried to give him ample chance. Thor warned him of what was to come, but Loki heeded him not," Odin countered. "His antics, his deeds, his misconduct has brought this on him and you must see that," He urged her. He caught her by her soft forearms and held her in place so that she could not turn away.

"There are other ways!" the great queen told her husband. "You don't have to do this. It is too extreme! "Loki's actions are too extreme!" Odin shouted. "The way he attacked Lady Dagmar disgraceful!" Odin spat wagging his head as he started to pace about on the balcony.

"Loki loved Dagmar," Frigga insisted chasing after Odin. "I don't understand all that transpired...
she attempted to rationalize seeing the bleeding sullied, scared and burned maiden a few days ago. She caught her husband by the sleeved of his sleeping robe and looked into his eyes her's were filled with worry and horror. Odin spun around and gripped her firmly by the shoulders.

"Because you cannot face what is true ? Because you cannot understand that Loki is gone?" he asked roughly shaking her a bit.

"Do not say that!" Frigga yelled.

"The council is furious and with every right. The people fear that Loki is not contained. Panic is inciting in the streets as we speak. We will not allow Loki to rain anarchy and create anxiety amongst the populace. The people of Asgard ans the nine realms deserve security and stability, Frigga," Odin replied.

"And what of your son, Odin!" Frigga ranted pointing toward the ground for she knew that deep under the twisting catacombs that was where their child resided. Where he had sat day in and day out for so many months now, "What does he deserve?"

"Frigga for his crimes for his monstrous, villainous behavior he deserves death," Odin told her. His tone wasn't harsh or cruel it was pained and weak. "In accordance to our laws.."

"Say it not to me," she threw her hands up and covered her ears. "I'll hear it not!" She clutched her palms tight around her ears trying to block out the king's words.

"You know it to be true." he simply replied back.

"I said I'll hear it not!" she choked.

"What would you have me do? Throw him a parade herald his misdeeds to the farthest edges of our borders, line his cell with rose petals?" Odin asked indignantly.

"I am not saying he doesn't deserve punishment. He does, he does," The queen murmured. She loved Loki with all her heart, but love could not save Loki from atoning for his crimes. His deeds made her shudder. What he had done to Sif had startled her. The fact that Loki's magic was returning so quickly was disconcerting to all. The poor guards who Loki tormented, she couldn't believe Loki would drive their minds so far into insanity. The fire that he had spread terrified her. Loki could have burned down the palace. He could have killed them all. It seemed a sure sign of Ragnorok. She wondered if Loki wished to unleash that type of unbridled fury on them all and burn the realm to the ground. The things that Thor explained Loki said hurt her like no other. Loki and Thor had always been so close, now for Loki to swear he wanted his brother dead. She didn't know if anything broke her heart more than thinking that one of her children could hate the other.

"He is out of control, Frigga!" Odin implored her to understand in earnest. "Look at all the mayhem he has caused even when he is confined and chained," he entreated her.

"Oh Odin," she cut him off abruptly throwing her hands in the air and pulling away from the clasp of his muscular hands. 'He's just trying to get your attention!" the queen blurted out.

"And he has gotten it," Odin replied firmly his tone almost a growl. "Frigga, there is little else that can be done," the wizened ruler of Asgard said as he raked weathered hands from years of war through silky hair turned white from years of presiding over the vast realm

"Little else that can be done? Little else that can be done!" The queen scoffed as she glanced up at her husband her soft light blue eyes misty with disbelief. "How can you say that?" she demanded of him.

"We must take action Frigga, his deeds cannot be left unpunished. It is obvious now that even being bound in that cell has not helped teach him to be repentant. Loki had been nothing, but insolent and uncooperative since his return to Asgard. Choking that guard in front of the court like that only to merely insight terror, turning Lady Sif into a Frog to humiliate her, he tormented those poor guards, those men were good honest soldiers and he has driven them to near madness, He attacked Lady Dagmar his own apprentice and close friend, he killed Ingvar," Odin said with regret. Ingvar had been a royal official since Odin's early years as king. He was a trust friend.

"You pity Ingvar more than you pity your own son." Frigga said, her voice shaking as she turned away from him. She gave him her back. He looked on at his wife. She was dressed in a long golden nightgown that shimmered in the starlight and her blonde tresses cascaded down her back. He saw the hair bounce as she wagged her head as if offering silent protest.

"I pity Loki, my dear, but what other course of action would you have me to take? This is what is necessary. In the end it will be for Loki's own good, you'll see," the gray-haired ruler assured his consort as he tried to wrap her in an embrace.

Queen Frigga spun around defiantly a starred Odin in the eye. She was so furious with him she could have spat. "For his own good! For his own good!" she nearly screamed balling his hands into tight fist. "Do you hear your reasonings, your logic. How will beating him before all be for his own good. To parade him for the crowd to see like some wild animal. You will have the crowd jeer him, taunt him, throw rotten fruit at him, spit at him?"

"He needs to be humbled Frigga," the father explained.

"You'll break him!" Frigga shouted in the great king's face as her own façade crumbled. She could no longer hold her composure her soft blue eyes flooded with tears. They rippled down her face hot and steady and unyielding.

"He needs to be broken," Odin ground out.

"It is as if you have given up on him," Frigga stated pushing away from King Odin.

"He is not who he was..."

"You do not even want to give him a chance!" she shot back stomping her foot and balling up her fist. "Give him an opportunity Odin, a mere shot at being who he once was. Show you're son that you have some faith in him. If you allow him to be whipped and publicly you may prove to Asgard that you can control Loki, but you will prove to Loki what he fears the most... that you are not his father," Frigga explained she was panting and her breath hitching a bit. "Loki...Loki will break!" she shouted. "he'll be so far removed from us... he'll be so cracked and disconsorted he'll be so confused He'll never return. Our little boy...my baby...my little angel... was dead and now he's alive... we have hope... Loki can be good, he can reform... give him a chance Odin. All he ever wanted was to be a worthy son for you..." Frigga told him with tears in her eyes, "Loki need hope Odin...do not dash it to prove a point," she warned him.

Odin's masculine and elderly arms came to engulf his beloved wife, for a minute she fought against the embrace. She pushed away, but her husbands arms were strong and finally she allowed herself to melt into the hug as she sobbed into his night garbs. He ran his firm bronzed hand over her hair. "He is already broken Frigga, he is broken and corrupt...he's so far gone..."Odin explained fighting the tears that stung behing his one good eye as he felt his faithful queen tremble in his hold.

"I...I...cannot let you do this to him," The queen stated but it was more as if she was still begging Odin to recant. "I... I cannot bear it. I am his mother. I could not watch my little boy be stripped and beaten like that. I cannot see the blood run from his back all to appease some no account noble from Vanahiem," she swore.

"Dagmar is an ambassador. She is a long time friend to let Loki go unpunished for what he did to her would shatter our relations with the Vanir. Loki will not destroy the peace of the realms,"

"My heart Odin, My heart cannot endure it" she begged clutching on her silk nightgown. "My heart can not endure it a second time, please my love, please," she whimpered in his arms.

"Frigga," Odin said gently engulfing her in a tender embrace. He rubbed soothing circles on her shaking back. "Shh," he cooed to his queen. He kissed her forehead.

"Please," she whispered finally pulling her head from off his chest and looking him in the eye. He dropped his head, but she knew from the firm set of his jaw that the decision still stood. She pushed away from him and clutched herself tight as she started to walk back into their bed chamber.

She slipped off her slippers as she sat down on their opulent bed. The thick and fluffy glistening white and gold spread welcomed her. She slipped her body under the bedspread. The cool sheets felt good. She was ready to go to bed. She couldn't bring herself to say anything else to her husband. Her face stricken, white and tear stained. She started to blow out the lantern that sat on the night stand, she didn't want to see Odin when he came to bed. Her hand reached out to find the candlestick, but as t trembled with nerves she ended up bumping her manicured nails against a silver portrait frame. It was one of her favorites. It was of Loki. He was just a boy. He was only a Midgardian standard age of 7. Loki had excelled in his studies and Odin had promised him an actual apprenticeship to one of the realms most esteemed mages. In preparation for his first true magic training Frigga got him an official wizard's hat, cape and wand. He wore his cape and hand and ran around with his wand for an entire month until the realms esteemed mage Mistress Sigrid came to tutor him. They had the portrait painted the day Loki and Mistress Sigrid began the training. Queen Frigga picked up the portrait and clutched it to her heart as she laid flat on her back resting her head on the silk down pillows. She felt the bed shift on the left side. She closed her eyes as Odin removed his trousers. She felt the bed move and lurch a little more.

"Will you still go through with the Magic Extraction, Odin?" she asked quietly.

"It is necessary, Frigga," Odin stated wearily as he started to reach over her to turn out the lantern. "I Loki cannot be trusted with his magic..."

"I see," she nodded catching his hand and stopping his reach, "Tell that to this child,' she replied placing the portrait in his hand. She gave him a moment to look at the portrait of the little dark-haired boy with missing tooth at the bottom His smile was bright as the sun. He was so proud of his little pointed hat. His wand up in the air and his hands set it a very magical looking angle. Frigga blew out the candle.

---

The crowd of Aesir roared in the Colosseum as the prisoner was marched forth into the arena. They shouted obscenities, booed and cursed his name. The populace of the Imperial City had shown up in great form to see the public flogging of a once prince of Asgard. Young and old noble and serf piled their way into the arena. They were armed with rotten produce and as soon as the condemned man's gaunt form appeared coming out of one of the tunnels the chucked their ammunition in his direction. He was assaulted by overly ripened melons, green tomatoes, stinking squash and all other manner of garbage that the Aesir could dig up. Farmer and venders gathered right outside the amphitheater and sold their molded vegetables to the passerby.

Unkempt and gaunt looking, Loki emmerged from the center tunnel that lied under the stadium seats of the Arena. His glazed over emerald eyes were attacked by the piercing, blinding golden light of the Asgardian sun. His tender jade pupils burned and leaked uncontrollably as his eyes were forced to take in the dazzling rays. It had been so long now since since he'd seen the sun. So long since he'd viewed anything besides the wretched walls which he'd been confined to for so long now.

Loki gasped as the fresh air of the arena burst forth into his lungs, but before he could become completely aware of his surroundings he felt pummeled by the onslaught of hurling rotten fruits and vegetables. The hurled produce hit him on every side. It rained down from the roaring crowd that loomed above him, beating him on his arms and legs, falling down and knocking him upside his head and pounding against his overly exposed back. His prison garbs could have ever scarcely been called clothes, and by now they could scarcely be called coverings. They were little more than grime drenched bits of mesh barely hanging on the once prince's thin body.

The disgusting crops teemed down on him mercilessly. His already filthy body was now covered with the juices of putrid melons and sticky, rotten grapefruits. He tried to dodge the blows of the greens, but on every turn he was thwarted. The guards were unyeilding. The had slapped a thick metal cuff around his neck as they wrangled him like wild game and dragged him out of his cell. The collar was heavy. It felt like it weighed as much as Thor's hammer and made his neck feel as if it would snap it in half like it was no more than a twig.

The palace soldiers yanked him along with rough hands, causing him to stumble and trip and he plodded blindly across the sand filled floor of the Colosseum. Even when he was on the ground scrambling to get to his feet they didn't cease pulling him along. Eventually, by the time he staggered a little ways further toward the center of the arena, his eyes managed to come into focus in the blazing light. Colors swirled about them. He made out the people arrayed in the splendid tunics. Their regal garments made of vibrant red, and regal purple hues. He smirked. He now knew where he was, the Arena. So many times he had gone to this place for a day of entertainment and exciting. Many times he and Thor had come as boys to watch a chariot race. The royal family always attended the Summer and Winter Games that took place right with in this very place. He had taken his mages trial in this very spot. He reckoned once again he was called on to be the entertainment. He smirked haughtily, he corrected his stance and despite the pain of the terrible collar that wrapped around his throat he made himself stand up straight and tall, walking with a stride that held a princely air. He'd not bow or bend. Odin wanted to see him humble and contrite, Asgard wanted to see him a wounded animal a defeated foe who would beg their king and future king for mercy, but he'd give into none of their desires.

The disgusting convict cast his emerald eyed glance on the box seats of the Colosseum. He glared up at the lofty throne seats. Where the royal family could watch the events in comfort. They sat with servants fanning them and presenting them with figs and dates to feast upon while they watched the show. Loki's menacing gaze made contact with Odin's one eye. Loki's stare narrowed with hate as he saw his once father. Odin shut his eye and heaved a sigh as he watched his son step forward onto the podium. He didn't want to see Loki tortured. But as king he couldn't let those despicable deed go without recompense, Loki had taken lives, hurt the people of Asgard and attacked and ambassador he had to be subdued, like an unruly stallion he needed to be bridled. If Loki cooperated he could get out of the flogging with only a few stripes. He watched as the guards pulled Loki's arms tight above his head, tethering them to the scaffold. He saw just how bony Loki's body had become, his ribs poked out on the sides of his nasty mud caked sides.

Loki turned his glaring jade pupils from his one time father to his supposed brother. He plastered a sickening, straight smile on his terrible chapped lips. He held the facial pose and stared at Thor without a blink until he watched the great blonde flinch. Thor felt a chill run through him. He had tried to convince the golden king not to go through with the cruel public punishment, but Odin was stern in his stance that it was a punishment to suit Loki's crimes. Thor turned away the feral glint that ran through hi brother's eyes scared him. The youngest son of Odin's eyes darted across the seats. He saw Sif she looked pleased as punch about what he would be made to endure and the warriors three they stood posed to strike him down if he tried anything. His shrew irises scanned harder for Frigga, He wanted to see her wanted to see her there. See that she too could so easily watch his pain and do so without remorse. He wanted to feel her hatred and horror as her lovely blue eyes fell upon him. He longed to feel her fury kindle against him, but she wasn't there.

Before he had time to process her absence he felt the thin threads of his tattered tunic snap. The rags fell off of his slender frame and hot water was splashed on his dirty back. He didn't know whether to scream in pain or laugh at the fact that he was finally getting clean. But he ended up hissing in pain as the heated water burned his open sores.

A strong hand came and pulled his sullied black locks so harshly that the dark-haired man thought that they'd be ripped out his scalp. Loki gritted as the hand twisted his neck to a painful angle. "You think you can disrespect me again," the cruel voice connected with the hand hissed into Loki's ear. "Think you can just desecrate that which is mine?' He asked him further. "Make a fool of me once again," the Vanir sneered. "Think that you can insult a maiden of Vanaheim, an ambassador, the daughter of the Prime Minister, my soon to be bride!" Sir Olaf growled and pulled the long raven mane of the ex-prince back harder. "Huh? Huh?" the statesman demanded. "What's this Dear Prince Loki," the Vanir nobleman taunted loudly so that the arena could hear him. They roared and shouted booed and hurled insults like darts toward the once prince of the golden realm. "Cat caught you by your Silver Tongue," Olaf Dirkson jeered the more while Loki panted from his neck being so long held in the uncomfortable position. "Well perhaps I can loosen it for you," Olaf ground out as he looked to the guards and signaled for them to haul the chains up further in the air so that Loki's muddied toes skimmed just over the platform. "Good people of Asgard will you see this reprehensible creature, chastened?" Olaf baited the crowd like some sort of twisted jester waiting for a the applause of an amused audience. The Aesir were all too happy to reply with their claps and a hoots and whistles of exclamation for the disgraced traitor to be subjected to the full force of the law.

Instantly, the Vanir nobleman's hand reached for the dense black whip. He raised his strong bronzed hand and slung the whip in the air for show. The audience went wild in the stands as the whip swung around and around its sound parted through the air like a cyclone before it cracked down on Loki's naked slimy back. Loki's gem colored eyes bulged out their sockets. He sucked breath in fiercely as back arched up like a rolling hill. The whip came down again, Loki's spine curved in a wicked pattern trying to get away from the searing pain. Olaf rolled up his sleeves enjoying the way the always to smug prince jumped as hs spine met with the harsh leather strap. "Had enough yet?" the tormenter teased.

Loki panted it was ragged sounding like a wheeze, "That the better you can do?" he asked his voice low and gravelly.

"What did you say?" Olaf asked shaking his head with much mirth thinking that already he had humbled the prisoner. "Say it loud so the arena can hear you, you scum," he spat as he took either side of the whip in his strapping hands he held it around Loki's collar threateningly.

Loki laughed raspy and wild, it grew louder and intenser, before he shouted out, 'Is that the best you can do?"Olaf's hazel eyes narrowed with rage let out a growl. The Asgardians in the stands hissed and booed and began tossing left over fruit toward the brazen traitor. Loki's manic laughter only continued to ring out crisp and clear. He turned his crazed green eyes toward Odin. He found the old man's gaze, "IS THAT ALL THE BETTER YOU CAN DO!" Loki shouted pulling against his binds as if he had the power to snap them, spittle dripping down his chaffed lips and dirty chin.

Loki's rantings were cut short though as he felt the hot sting the cord slap his body once more. It kept happening. Again and again the flogging didn't ceased. The thick black rope cut across the flesh on Loki's back striping it like some jungle cat. The blows were hard, fast and came so quickly behind one another that Loki couldn't catch his breath between beatings. Loki's eyes watered he fought with all his might not to cry out. He'd not give any that satisfaction. He'd not be broken for them, he'd not be the sniveling loser begging for leniency from the hand of their king. He'd not be a whimpering dog to be pitied by their golden boy. Another stripe crisscrossed close to his shoulder blades and the once prince bit down into his lip. He bit down hard and heavy tearing into the marred cracked flesh on his mouth. The blood ran. The blood oozed from his back sliding down and mixing with the dirt like lava dragging down a mountainside. It poured from his lips dribbling down his narrow chin and and puddling on the wooden platform. Loki's body twisted and lurched twisted and figetted desperate to escape the brutality.

By the 40th time the whip cut across his once bony and once pale back Loki screamed out it was desperate, tortured scream. "Father!" Thor called frantically as he watched Olaf drive the whip again and again into Loki. He watched his brother thrash like pitiful quivering leaf as the pain only intensified. "Father, please," Thor urged. "Loki, Loki can't take much more," he pointed out in earnest. As he beautiful sea blue eyes beheld his brother's frail body spasm terrible. He could see how Loki was hyperventilating frantically struggling to regulate his breathing. "It's enough...Loki's learned his lesson, no more," Thor entreated. "Father!" The Crown Prince cried on his brother's behalf.

Odin raised his large, bronzed fist silencing his son. He leaned over on the banister of the box seating section. The law was clearly state,d the a person facing flogging was to be beaten until the submitted with a cry for mercy. If Loki would just ask for mercy, if he'd just lose his pride, then the pain would cease. Olaf was unrelenting and Loki was stubborn and such stubbornness held his silver tongue shackled.

Without fail the harsh leather continued to slap across the scrawny prisoners already singed and bloody back. Loki lost count of how many times he had now been hit with the whip. He imagine his back looked like little more that a sick bloody jigsaw puzzle. By the 75th lashing Loki could no longer seperate the pain. He couldn't decipher the later blow from the newer one. His breath came quickly burning through his lungs. His body could no longer fight against the torment it hung limply from the chains.

Thor's pulse quickened as he watched Olaf reach to grab the 3 roped cord. Thor looked hard, Loki's lacerations were morphing! They were no longer the look of normal Aesir flesh; no longer looking pink and bloodied, bruised and tender...the scars... the scars were turning colors underneath. It started out as almost a gray hue, but then it's transformation intensified until it was sharp and unmistakable color... Pure blue. The thunderer immediately rose to his feet. This couldn't be happening. It had only happened less than a handful of times before when Loki was very sick or injured... he hadn't known it then, he had usually been dismissed if it occurred. Not allowed to see his brother. Father and Mother would say Loki's condition was delicate, he was contagious, he needed rest and it wasn't until after everything had been disclosed that Thor pieced together what had happened in those time. He shuck his head as he looked at the spectators. He hated how they so wanted his brother's torture and execution as if he had never been their prince as if he had never once fought to save this realm. If the Aesir saw Loki as a Jotun there would be no mercy for him. They would not be appeased with a flogging, or imprisonment, they'd not settle for magic extraction banishment or death was all that would be acceptable and the later would be preferred. No redemption would be possible for a Frost Giant.

The huge blonde haired prince moved swiftly past those in the box seats. His great commanding footsteps stamped down the steep stair case of the arena seats. He roughly shoved the rowdy citizens aside. He marched forward quickly as he watched the three cord whip being raised to slash against Loki's pitiful looking back. "OLAF! THAT'S ENOUGH!" the prince commanded in a bellow that made the clouds roll in and gather over the arena. There was no more cheering from the crowd all had fallen very still. Thor started desperately sprinting toward the platform where his sibling writhed like a helpless worm on a hook, slimy, shriveled and bloodied. The Vanir had removed his top tunics and now with force and adrenaline was going to beat the prisoner bare-chested. He swung the three cord whip round like a lasso. The triple whip was set to strike Loki for a one last blow that would have surely sent the once proud mage into a seizure if not into a coma, but instead of meeting with the weak form, the triple whip collided with a mighty right arm bulging with biceps. "I said, 'that's enough,'" Thor rumbled with a low and seething growl as the black cords wrapped around his well-formed muscles.

The Vanir noble stumbled backward. "I will defend the honor of my bride, my people and I will protect Asgard and Vanahiem from the likes of this savage!" Olaf declared and spat on Loki's back.

The golden son of Odin growled and reached out his muscular fingers and wrapped them tight around the statesman neck. He lifted the handsome Vanir off of his feet and looked him straight in the eye. "You care not for Dagmar's honor... for you have dishonored her kind, charitable heart with your blatant cruelty, you care not for the Vanir, for you have corrupted a treaty that was meant to make sure peace in order to provoke wrath and I don't see any savage except for you," Thor warned as he raised Mjolnir at Olaf's head. The threat was enough and Olaf conceded with no more than a sigh.

The blonde prince walked over to where the beaten and shackled man dangled from the chains on the scaffold. "Release him," Thor ordered the two soldiers through gritted teeth a stern stormy looking coming over his normally sunny day blue eyes. The guards immediately thumped their chest and complied with the prince's command. Loki tumbled down lifelessly when the shackled were dropped. He fell into Thor's big arms, hitting his back. It hurt fiercely but too much pain engulfed every fiber of his being now for him to make gripe or groan. His emerald eyes rolled about as coherence longed to slip from him. His breathing shallow and uneven, he gasped for breath hoping to bring his battered body even the slightest relief, but breathing hurt abominably. "Loki?" He scarcely detected the frantic worried voice.

Green eyes darted up hardly able to make out of visage everything swirled about he felt dizzy and confused and tired and...awful. He felt as his body was moved gingerly, but still the tender movements caused him to whimper pitifully as he shifted to rest his sweat soaked head against something that was rock solid. He jerked at first. No more pain...nothing else harsh or rough, but then he heard the familiar beat. His pleading green eyes managed to look up meeting with a fuzzy formless face, bronze, gold and blue swirling together like the colors in a spinning top. "Th-th-th"

"Loki? It's me... I'm here...I'm sorry...I'm so sorry, please."

"Bro-bro-Thor?" Loki asked hapless, as his quivering grime covered finger clumsily reached up to feel the supposed face.

"Yes," Thor replied in earnest clasping Loki's slimy finger and holding it.

"Pleeezee," he whimpered as he nuzzled against Thor's warm tunics and armor. Feeling weak and needy and frightened. "No more! No more! NomoreNomorepuhleezeetor," he slurred tear rolling down his muddy cheek. 'I...I...I...IcantIcant..."

" Shhh," Thor soothed as he took slow steps to maneuver himself and Loki down the steps of the platform so as not to jar Loki anymore and send him into shock. "No more Loki," Thor agreed in a whisper as he clutched his brother broken, bleeding body tight against his chest. He pressed a soft kiss against Loki's brow. Loki allowed himself to gaze up only to see a sphere of gold like a halo before he lost touch with coherence.