Visitation Chapter 43: Hello From the Other Side, a thor fanfic

A/N : HEEELLLLLOOOOO READERS! OMG! I cannot believe it after all these years of me writing this story Thor Ragnorok has finally been released! It's pretty surreal for me! The day we have all been waiting for finally arrived. WOOHOO! I hope many of you have already seen it and enjoyed it. What I fun time at the movies right? It is so different from my sad and sorted tale, but I guess that's what Fanfiction is all about ;) Well this is my gift to you! My faithful readers many of you have been with me for for 4 years and you've endured this sad tale. I thank you all for your reads, reviews , follows and favorites. Your interest has allowed me to write this much for this long. Consider this a THor Ragnorok viewing gift. I tried to edit this chapter as much as possible, but please pardon any mistakes you may catch. I really wanted to release this chapter for opening weekend. Well without any further gilding of lily. Happy reads and writes and get out there and see the new movie. God Bless you all.

Chapter 43

After reading the letter, Loki readied himself to pay Prince Thor a visit. The new king of Asgard rushed to his bathing suite. He looked in the mirror above his wash basin. He had to do a doubletake as he caught glimpse of his reflection. When he gazed at the looking glass he was sure he had seen the face of someone staring back at him. It was quick as a flash, but King Loki could have sworn that he caught a glimpse of a cobalt blue skinned creature staring back at him. The creature had skin as hard and cold as ice, it had small, jagged spikes poking from the top of its head. He could see the beady, beastly, bloody eyes staring back at him. And long yellow teach that looked like fangs fo0rmed into a sick smile. Loki gasped as he beheld the frightful image. No. He was sure that he had transformed himself back into his proper self. He looked down at his hands in panic to make sure that they weren't an icy indigo color. He exhaled as he found that his hands were still a flesh tone and his nails weren't long and over grown and made of black-ice. He rubbed his hands across his cheeks feverishly feeling them to make sure that his face was still smooth and clean-shaven and supple and not hard like ice. He was relieved when he found that he did not feel the deep ridges and circles of the ancient markings of the Jotuns on his cheeks and face. His hands continued roaming and made there way up his head feel for the terrible small horns. He sighed when he felt only his sweaty, soft hair.

The self-proclaimed king of Asgard blinked and the surprising image vanished. Loki's relief was only momentary for as he took a second look he found that the reflection had not improved. The second time he looked into the mirror there was new face that stared back at him. It was still not his own and it was all the more hideous. This one had a long neck, slimy, green scales, serpentine features and a lashing and slithering forked tongue that lapped. Its eyes were golden and full of the fury of unmerciful fire and brimstone and yet even in them there was an iciness that illuminated from deep within the depths of its black pupils. The image was enough to send a chill running down the new ruler's spine. Loki blinked several times and rubbed his eyes. Finally, the reflection that looked back at him was his own although the young ruler had to admit it was hardly any better in appearance than the images that had come before it.

His eyes were terribly puffy and red. He had deep, dark circles underneath his eyes they looked like bruises. His skin was a ghostly pale, nearly gray color. His face was still laced with a sheen of sweat and his long, black hair was messy and straggly about his head. He was a horrid, haggard and ghastly sight. He practically frightened himself as he stared in the mirror. He could not go down to the dungeons looking in such a state. After all he had the upper hand. He was the victor here. Thor was the loser. He was the king and Thor was the prisoner. He would make sure that Thor knew that and such an image was permanently burned into his mind before he was executed. He would send, Thor to Valhalla with the memory of his defeat engrained in his brain.

Loki walked to his private bathroom. The refresher was well-furnished. The tiles were made of mixed onyx and granite tiles. His tub was coated in gold and so was wash-basin. He strolled over to the wash basin and looked in the mirror, the mirror had a spiraling gold frame that was formed like two intertwined dragons. The heads of the dragons met at the top of mirror and the eyes of the dragons were made of green stones that glowed. Loki stared into the ornate mirror with a sickeningly venomous smile etched across his thin lips. His long, sweaty fingers turned the faucet on and he let the called water run. He placed hands underneath the water. The running water was so cold that Loki could feel the water chilling him and it was a welcomed relief in contrast to the oppressive heat that had washed over his body. Loki plunged his hands deep into the cold water. He cupped his hands and scooped up the water and splashed it on his face three times. He looked up from the porcelain wash basin, his face was dripping wet. Water was rolling off of his forehead and down his pointed nose. When he peered back into the mirror his green eyes were gleaming brightly. His smile was wide and broad all of his straight, white teeth were glistening while his eyes shined with fiendish delight. All traces of the waned and wearied, worried leader were completely erased as Loki stood to his full height. His complexion though still pale was a back to its normal glowing porcelain color. The water had instantly washed away the messy appearance of his body being sweat soaked and his eyes were no longer swollen and red and full of heavy dark bags. He was fresh –faced, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed once more.

Once the self-proclaimed king of Asgard had fixed his face, he decided to deck himself in his most regal attire. He marched from the bathing salon and back into his bedchamber. He moved pass his bed and went to his walk-in closet. Loki searched through his finery. He needed to look his very best when he descended to the depths of prison to visit the fairer son of Odin. Loki searched through his closet, he had much exquisite apparel. The emerald-eyed enchanter had always prided himself with his impeccable taste in clothing. Finally, his eyes landed on one of his ceremonial vestments. Loki smiled as his alabaster fingers stroked the smooth fabric of his royal attire. His smiled only broadened and deepened as he realized that that was the exact same garment that he had worn to Thor's coronation. It was ironic. Thor's coronation was where this all began. It was coming full circle and it was glorious. King Loki rubbed his hands together greedily as the notion planted himself further and further into his mind. Carefully, Loki plucked the items from the hangers. He pulled out a fine pair of supple leather pants with gold trimming on the edges and sides. He put on his emerald velvet tunics. He layered them with straps of soft leather and placed on his golden breastplate and arm plates. The armor shined and glistened as if it had just been freshly polished for battle. He pulled on a pair of tall, shiny black boots, they ran all the way up to his knees. He found his opulent velveteen cape the color was that of the deepest evergreen and the collar of the cape was trimmed in luxurious, soft black ermine fur. With a might swing, swoosh and swish he spun the cape around and draped it across his shoulders. He ran his fingers back through his hair. It no longer was wet and sticky with perspiration and he was easily able to work his fingers through his dark tendrils and smooth back his long, ebony mane.

King Loki stared at himself in his full-length mirror. He squared his shoulders as he admired his flawless appearance. He exuded confidence and regal dignity. He looked the part. He was every inch a king. Still, there was something missing. Loki knew what it was. He snapped his fingers as it came to him and he added the finishing touch by reaching for his gleaming golden-horned helmet. He stared at his helmet. He studied it and stroked it. Pride once more welled inside the dictator. He thought of when he almost hadn't received this magnificent headdress.

He remembered a time so long ago when Odin had commissioned he and Thor to go to the Temple of Tribute and retrieve their promised crowns. They had been told that they would face a test inside the temple that would lead them to their crowns, but he hadn't faced his inside the temple, rather he had had to journey to Idunn's garden and fight a terrible fire-breathing beast. A beast which had born his own name and knew his every move and a beast that was his mirror image. It was only after he had slain the terrible monster that he had been given his crown. The dragon was dead and instead of a carcass being left to rot the dragon simply vanished in a puff of green and gold smoke and all that was left of his golden horned helmet. He'd been so proud then. He thought of how hard he'd fought, all that he'd overcome just to save his brother and in the back of his mind he could only hope that this meant that he would be seen as a worthy to sit upon the throne of Asgard. Surely, it was a sign, the prophecy and the blessing of the Norns on his life. He had been so proud. After all, the dragon was the rarest, most powerful, most magical and one of the wisest creatures in the Nine Realms, what else could be the symbol of a true king of Asgard, but such a beast. But when Odin had placed it upon his head he called him an ox. Loki cringed and he flet his clutch on the horns of the helmet automatically tighten as he recalled Odin's words. Odin simply proclaimed him an ox a beast of burden with no other purpose but to the help Thor in his undertakings. Odin had dashed his dreams of kingship and told the whole of the Realm of Asgard that he was nothing more than Thor's slave.

The raven-haired enchanter started to growl, but soon his growling turned into a wicked little cackle. He traced his narrow finger over the broad curves of the great, golden horns. He continued laughing harder and harder. Now Thor and Odin would see his helmet for what it really was. It was his crowning achievement. It was the crown of the mightiest ruler that the Nine realms would have ever seen. The ruler who over-threw the all-father, the ruler who defeated the undefeated thunderer, the ruler who would usher in a new time and era in the history of the Realms. His name would last forever in the eons of time and in the chronicles of the kings. He'd make sure that no one would remember King Odin. Not as anything more than a weak and tired old, goat who failed to save Asgard from the vengeful dragon. Thor's name would go down as Asgard's would hero. He was there last hope, but even he had not been able to overcome him. Oh, yes this would be delicious. He had for a moment thought that that Thor would be a martyr to the people. Maybe initially, they would see him that way, but if there was one thing that, Loki had learned about the Aesir in all the time that he had lived among them was that they prized and praised champions above all else and they hated losers. In time they would hate Thor for his weakness. In a few decades they would turn against his memory and call him a coward and they'd hate him for it. Loki proudly, straightened himself once more. Then he slowly sat the gleaming horns on top of his head and adjusted it just so. The helmet weighed nearly 5 pounds, but the way the self-proclaimed king held his head high, no one would have been able to guess. It made him feel as if he was walking on air.

Loki snapped his fingers and the lanterns immediately lit in his chamber. He walked over to his dresser. He looked into the mirror on his wall. He raised an inky eyebrow as his scrutinized his reflection. The enchanter smirked as he found his image perfect. He looked the part every inch an arrogant and confident king. On his face and body he showed absolutely no signs of the swirling turmoil that raged inside him. He looked completely calm and unflappable. King Loki traced his hand just over his top lip a few times as his sardonic smirk faded from his this pink lips. He reached out his right hand and summoned the mighty scepter, Gungnir to himself. The golden staff slammed into his hands. Holding the powerful weapon empowered him. "Let's finish this," Loki muttered to his reflection. He winked then he nodded to himself and snorted from his nose like a raging bilgeschnipe before he turned on his heels and exited his chamber.

The door creaked as he slowly it. His effort was almost painstakingly languid. As the king opened the door and emerged into the hallway he gingerly closed his door made of black oak. He closed it very gently, Loki has always been known for his stealth and light-handedness, but still, for all his care, it sounded as if the door had been slammed. The loud noise nearly startled the conquering monarch. Loki, although in appearance was unnervingly calm inward was a bundle of nerves. Loki breathed deeply as he tried to keep up his cool exterior. He looked anxiously around the corner. He checked to make sure the coast was clear. He thought that perhaps he would spy Lord Malekith's ghostly face appearing in the darkness. He could not put it pass the leader of the Dark-Elves. He had no doubt that the creature would stalk about in the night. He could picture him still rallying with his troops and celebrating even now into these wee hours of the night. He was so proud of his victory after all. Loki scowled, Malekith reveling with his mean was honestly the least of the things he need be concerned about. He did not trust Malekith. Nor did he even care for him. They were scarcely allies. They were allies out of necessity. They had need for each other and they had a shared mutual fear of Thanos, but still Loki could picture the Elf betraying him. It ws easy to imagine Malekith plotting some cue or plot amongst his knaves to over throw him. Loki shook his head. He didn't expect Malekith's loyalty. Malekith was disloyal to a fault. It was a trait that was easy to recognize because it was a trait that he too possessed, but despite Malekith's distrust of him, disdain for him and disloyal nature in general they also possess another similar trait: a ruthless, hellbent desire to get exactly what they wanted. More than anything they both wanted the destruction of Asgard and Malekith knew that it was through him that this could be achieved, so he realized that he had no need to fear betrayal from him, yet.

Loki placed his hand upon the upper part of his stomach and exhaled as his eyes beheld that there was no one around. He was truly grateful for the fact that no one was in the hallway. There was no one around at all. The hallways were empty and vacant. They were devoid of all that normally embodied the palace at this time of night. Even though the hour had grown late and most of the palace would have been at bed at this hour there was always some activity to be noted around the palace. There were the palace guards who would march back and forth making their rounds. He could almost hear them chanting and stomping as they patrolled the corridors. There would also normally be a few servants who would be sitting in the kitchens and sitting rooms. They would typically have just finished cleaning up from some banquet or ball or high function. And after they'd finished their duties often times the servants would have a night cap or eat a very later supper from the left overs of the banquets. They'd sit around and gossip. Whispers and laughs, giggles and hurried jovial or slightly cantankerous voices were always heard around this time of night. Some servants were discontented and would complain about their tired and aching bones or their wearied feet. The secret corners and nooks in the corridors would often be occupied by young lovers indulging in a secret tryst. Young courtiers would often sneak out of their ajoining suites to their parent's rooms in the middle of the night to rendezvous with one another. The sounds of hurried sighs, fitful giggles and passionate kisses could often be heard. At times one could hear their frantic footsteps racing down the hall as they ran into each other's arms or ranaway from the watchful eyes of the palace guards. Of course, there were always a few stragglers, noblemen and noblewomen who had had one too many glasses of wine and stumbled through the halls back to their rooms in the wee hours of the night. They'd clumsily stumble through the halls, bumping into things, smashing flowers pots and vases in their wake, tripping over their feet, they'd sing and carouse as if they were still in the tavern and they'd carry on so badly that finally their servants and squires and waiting gentlewomen would rush out to help their poor master's back to their respective chambers. And these noises though sometimes annoying (for he was a very light sleeper) in some ways had been comforting. But now the corridors seemed lifeless. The silence was that of the deafening calm before a devastating storm.

Loki's footfalls were light as a feather, his stealth was beyond compare, he tiptoed through the corridors on little cat-feet, but on a night when such an eerie calm engulfed the entirety of the castle Loki's footsteps echoed throughout the cavernous hallways. Even though he was treading softly and walking slowly, it sounded as if he was stomping furiously and at full-speed down the hall. He rounded bends and he turned corners, he took rights and then he made some lefts and made his way down the hall and maneuvered through the quiet passageways of the palace. On his way to the staircase that would lead him to the dungeons, he happened to walk pass the cluster rooms where the Dark-Elves had decided to lodge themselves for the night. The doors were closed and the lights in the chambers were darkened and yet and still there was quite a bit of commotion coming from within the lesser soldier suites in the palace. That was finally when he started to hear something.

Inside the resting quarters of the Dark-Elf soldiers Loki heard a roar. He heard the boisterous snores of the warriors of Svartalfheim. Their combined snores sounded like tornadoes raging through the countryside. They were worse than a whole herd of breeding bilgeschnipes mating in the nesting grounds. Loki's lips curled and he put his hands over his ears. He shook himself and continued on. He started to hurry pass them, but their roaring snores were hard to escape. As King Loki continued to make his way down the corridors he had moved several feet pass the doors to the Dark-Elf quarters, but he could still hear their grunts and hoots and whistles.

He thought for sure that the Dark-Elf soldiers had inhaled the drapes and all the tapestries in the room for the way they snored on and on. Yet and still for all the racket that those creatures were making somehow, he envied them. He envied them because they were sleeping and he was pacing the halls in the night. They were snoozing soundly, snuggly, contentedly in the plush and luxurious beds provided by the palace. They, who had shown no appreciation for the finer things in life, save the best batch of mead or the finest, freshest bottle of wine were cuddled up on velvet blankets and satin sheets. While he was left to stalk about in the night like a mad man. He could simply envision them all clustered together sleeping on top of one another in a heap, in a pile, in a herd. Their bloodless, hands and limbs sticking out the sides spread across one another, poking one another in the face and back and sides, their mouths were undoubtedly hanging open revealing their sick gray tongues. But, still, no matter how sloppily or unprettily they slept, they were still sleeping with songs of the death and carnage that they had already caused rocking them like gentle lullaby and the tempting visions of the hope of the glory that awaited them only hours from now dancing in their heads. Surely their slumber was sweet and blissful. They could at least roll over and dream of the victory. For them this was the sweetest type of sleep, the sleep of expectancy, like the night before Winter Solstice, there was so much joyous anticipation, there was so much jubilant hope that in the morrow when you awoke you'd be granted everything that you ever wanted. What could be better than that?

Loki grumbled to himself as his hand clutched tighter on the golden staff as he marched onward. They could at least revel in their glory and victory. Victors were not supposed to be up at night, restless, tossing and turning, plagued and pestered by dreams and memories that were torturous. They should be able to slumber in peace knowing that they were about to receive all that they had ever wanted. The Dark-Elf warriors were certainly more fortunate than he, for here he roamed the night like a vagabond and an apparition, restless in the night still seeking solace. He was tired of this! How dare he be forced to stay up all night long and unable to relax and rest in his own victory. He'd won! He'd won after all. He was king, damn it! He was king of Asgard! And there was no one who was left to overthrow him or stop him. How could they? So many of the Einherjar had already died, some were injured and even the council had already pledged their allegiance to him in agreement that he would spare the life of their beloved prince. Loki shook his head with laughter. Luckily, for him, the Aesir were such a noble people, they were always taught that honesty was the best policy and that a man's word meant everything. Yes, the Asgardians were a noble and loyal sort, they would not break their oaths, but how unfortunate for them that he was wicked and crooked and corrupt and that in just a few hours Thor would be dead anyway. The armies of the other realms were so far away and with the Bifrost closed they would not be able to reach Asgard to fight him, Odin lied helpless in the Oversleep, aware of all but powerless to stop that which was to come and Thor...well Thor was no threat to him and his plans at all now. He was now the all-father, he would be the undisputed master of all he surveyed, the iron fisted ruler of the Nine Realms, second in command only to Thanos. There was none to challenge him. What had he to fear? Nothing. And yet he was not lying in the all-father's gilded bed, kicked back and relax sipping on the rarest vintages of champagne, flaunting his victory in Odin's face, but instead he roamed the hallways inwardly, wide-eyed and skittish troubled and mad. Well no more. He'd speak his peace to Thor and then he would sleep long and hard and he'd laugh himself into his dreams.

Bitterly and tired, he continued in his long trek toward the palace prison. Finally, he came to the steps that would lead him toward the dungeon. Loki took a deep breath as he descended.

The winding stairs that led down to the dungeons grew more narrow and more warn the further Loki descended into the depths. When he started the steps had been made of polished marble, the rails overlaid with silver, there was even carpeting on some levels, but the deeper and deeper that he dragged himself down, the more and more disrepair that the stairwells fell into. He walked further and further down the twisting and twining staircase and found soon that steps were simply made of just concrete. Concrete that was covered with water and mold and slime. The railing was soon just made of nothing but brass and the painting on it was terribly chipped and peeled. It was starting to rust. The walls were coated with wet, sticky substances, there were cobwebs and spider webs and holes in the walls in which all manner of creepy crawly thing eeked out of and scuttled and scurried along the wall. The steps were broken as well and full of gaps and holes. The holes were more like craters and every so often one step was just completely missing and Loki would have to take a large step or a flying leap to reach the next.
He went lower, to the point where the stairs were wooden and so was the rail, his thin, alabaster hands were stuck by the jagged, sharp splinters poking out of the banister. This signaled that he was nearly outside of what would be considered the palace proper, their used to be old servants quarters in the days of old where the servants had been allowed to live, the quarters were less luxurious than the suites that most of the chambermaids and butlers lived in now, but they had afforded the servants more privacy, it was almost like a secret little estate. The stairs also led pass the palace armory, forgery, stables and barns, but still all those parts of the palace were above ground and to get to the dungeons Loki had to walk further and further until he was below ground.

The air grew moist and humid as he finally entered the subterranean prison. It was darker down there and there were no lanterns lining the walls and the railing that he had been using to safely navigate down the slick steps disappeared. The enchanter shined a small, green light from the palm of his left hand to illuminate his way. It cast eerie shadows along the wall. Loki looked around and saw the dilapidation around him. He scowled as he beheld it. It was becoming all too familiar.

Immediately, His nostrils were filled with the stench from the prison. The smell of blood and bile, sweat and other bodily wastes and refuse permeated the air. It was no surprised that the dungeon was filled with pungent odor. Prisoners were not afforded the common courtesy of corporate bathing, but once a month. They were normally shuffled and herded off to the bathing chamber once a month. They were made to remove their clothes in the cells so they marched chained and naked from the prison to the bathing houses which were situated in the fields just beyond the back of the dungeon in all kinds of weather. They at least gave the courtesy of allowing men and women to be separated. Loki had never even been afforded this basic right during his year or so long stay in the dungeons. None had seen fit to give him the opportunity to cleanse himself. He reeked and he watched with desparate longing as they others were paraded to receive their monthly baths. The guards and even other servants would mock and jeer at him. They'd point as laugh as he was forced to stare from his cell, his face sweaty and dirty, his hair long and bedraggled with grease, his garments filthy and tatter, caked his mud, his nails black with grime. He'd always taken such pride in his pristine appearance and they'd left him to wallow in squalor like some scummy hog. It made him sick to breathe in his own cell. Bathing was a reward often given to prisoners who exhibited good behavior. They could earn points and favors with the guards. The guards would then bring the best-behaved cell groups wash basins and they could have the privilege of bathing between the corporate baths. He had not been granted such luxury until after he'd faced extraction and even then, it was Lady Sigyn who had pleaded for him to be given such meager amenities. It had been her delicate hands that had tenderly run sponge and suds over his dirty body. A lump formed in his throat as he recalled.

It was true that the prisons had never been the most pleasant smelling of places. It was no bed of roses. The dungeon always stank. It had no ventilation really, besides for a few pipes that pumped air in. But the odor had never been this bad. The prison guards kept the walk ways between the cells fairly clean. When Loki's boot finally touched down on the last step before he entered into the dungeons. He saw why.

Dead bodies were everywhere. The corpses were strewn all over the place. Some were just lying on the steps, others were face down in their cells, there were even more scattered about on the prison floor. Loki could only hasten to guess that these were the remains of those who had died in the first skirmish when Malekith had first brought his horde to sneak attack the Imperial City. Loki pinched his nose and he proceeded to walk down the steps and finally enter the dungeon. The corpses were rotting and festering. The remains of the dead little more than maggot food now. Inside the cavities of the bodies all manner of creature were starting to lodge take root and breed. He was extremely careful to walk over the bodies. He tried not to sully his boots with the cold, crimson blood that was formed in puddles and all across the floor. Nasty blood smearings were splattered against the wall and on the floor and round down the steps. There were bloodied handprints on the walls and doors as if some had been desperate for escape an unable to get out. There were innards thrown about and severed tossed here and there. The disgusting sight of disemboweled, dismembered and decomposing bodies was enough to make even the strongest, most stalwart, most war-hardened Einherjar nauseous. The stench of the carnage was simply unbearable and enough to make the stomach roil. Loki looked down there were bodies of many species and peoples all hacked abominably and made unrecognizable. His palms started to shake and he could feel them getting sweaty and heat radiated to his hands. There was a sudden burning. It was loud enough that it made him want to scream. He quickly whispered a powerful cooling incantation. It removed the feeling, but he knew this fix was only temporary. But the slight gag relfex that he was experiencing was not made to vanish through his mysticisms.

But that attack had been days ago, more than a week. It proved how much of a panic the Aesir were truly in. Of course they were in a panic. He knew that they would be. There hadn't been an attack on Asgard in a about 5 millenniums. Since way before the time of Bor. They were shaken. So shaken, in fact that they hadn't even taken the time to clear the bodies from the dungeon. Asgardians generally took death very seriously. Even the criminals of Asgard were afforded the last rights, they had songs sung over them, last rights read from the sacred texts, bodies burned and cremated. But the Asgardians were so scared they hadn't even taken time to do such.

Loki stepped over one broken and cracked skull after another. Juice and fluid and blood was everywhere. He could no longer avoid stepping into the puddles. Everywhere there was a puddle of blood. There was bile and vomit. Loki's shiny, black boots sloshed and splashed through the river of blood that ran everywhere. the nasty slurry that was a mix of red blood, brown mud and water black from rocks and debris soaked his boots and he could feel the cold from the blood running into his boots. The lights from the cells where no one resided flickered on and off as Loki walked back. He made his way further and further through the dungeon. The further back he went the darker and darker the dungeons became. He no longer could see the bodies, but their putrid odor still lingered throughout the cell.

Despite the darkness, Loki knew exactly where he was going. He was very specific on the cell that he had commissioned for his Prince Thor. He was sure that the cell that he had been very specific that Thor stay in was perfectly fit for a prince of Asgard. After all he should know what type of accommodations were befitting. He had made sure that the blonde-haired son of Odin was given the same cell that he was. The thought allowed Loki's thin, pink lips to twist into a crooked smirk. His footfalls quickened. He was trotting eager to find Thor enjoying his new abode. It took him several minutes, but those minutes had felt like hours. He went down one more staircase and then he took a sharp left where the pathway forked and continued to walk down a long, narrow and dimly lit corridor. There were no other holding chambers along this pathway and for a while all Loki could hear was as he trotted along was the soft sound of the heel of his boot treading across the mixed mud and stone floor. But soon he started hear the sound of heavy breathing.

The sound was hard and labored and haggard. There was a wet rattle to it. It echoed throughout the empty hallway and it grew louder with every step that Loki took. Loki had entered a dragon's layer before and he could definitely confirm that the sound was similar. It was like a roar and snore all at once. The loud breathing shook the very foundations of the walls and it boomed like thunder. Loki knew he was getting closer. Even though the cell was damp and without ventilation the further back Loki drifted down the hallway the colder the cell became. Still there was a musk and humidity that hung in the air.

Loki took a deep breath. He was grateful for the slightly cooler feel to the air in this part of the dungeon. It kept his forehead from perspiring and his palms from sweating. He didn't want to look in anyway ruffled or in the slightest bit unhinged when he saw Thor.

King Loki's feet finally approached the end of the hallway. It was a dead end at this point. There was no where left to go but to the only cell in the entire hall. Loki approached slowly. His back was straight and his head held high, his feet seemed to slither up to the barrier that separated the unfortunate prisoner from the outside world. The shimmering force-field barrier that guarded the cell had cracked and broken in the process of the attacks. It no longer shined glowed with the magic that could shock any prisoner who dared to get too close to the fence and there was a crack in the shield that ran from top to bottom. The barrier was useless now, which made the sight of the bound, bedraggled wretch behind the broken plexiglass all the more pathetic. Loki inched closer a sadistic smirk, chiseled on to his face and etched deep in his lips. His cold palms rubbed together and soon his breath hitched with a wicked sort of glee as he crept ever closer and closer to the man he had once called his brother. Without the brilliant glow of the magic infused force-field and the emerald eyed enchanter could scarcely make out the lumpy figured huddled in the mud and thatch on the cell floor. There was only a solitary, tiny flickering candle encased inside a broken lantern. As Loki moved closer his body cast a long, slim, crooked shadow that loomed over the broken and busted prisoner. His gnarled, curved shadow was displayed across the wall and ran down to the floor. It was twined and twisted like a serpent, coiled and ready to strike with venom ever so mercilessly upon his unsuspecting victim. Loki's devilish, golden horns only added to the vicious look of the shadow that hovered above a bowed head and bent body. The shadow was a viper, hungry and deadly and oh so ready to swoop down and devour the one cowering before its hideous form.

The emerald eyed enchanter's only breathing grew more shallow and rapid, anxious and giddy as he beheld the long awaited sight. How many endless nights had be spend grinding in a pit of despair dreaming of the day when Asgard's golden prince might come to know the pain of such defeat. The knowledge that it had finally happened was all too wonderful, all too delicious. His mouth salivated. His fangs dripped, he was thirsty for Prince Thor's life blood. He'd take that which Thor had always cherished. That which gave Thor his gusto, his spotless reputation as Asgard's drew champion was tarnished, it was more than tarnished it was completely obliterated. Thor would die a broken son of a king and he would drink to that.

His pink tongue quickly darted out over his severe lips. His jade colored irises were all aglow with wayward delight. He wanted to have a better look. The flickering flame inside the lantern hardly provided adequate illumination for a moment to be relished in such as this. This was a moment to be reveled in. He'd dare not deny himself the honor to experience it in all its glory. He wanted to indulge in it to the fullest. He wanted to hear it all, hear every tortured sigh, every anguished cry ever bitter hurtful word they had to lash out at each other. He wanted to hear Thor beg like a dog and weep like a child. Those wondrous sounds would be his alone to cherish til the end of his days. He wanted to have the honor of smelling the stench of Thor's dirty body. He'd inhale it like a sweet bouquet. He wanted to taste the sweat and grime and blood, they were simply delectable samplings of Thor's inevitable defeat. The were the succulent appetizers to a meaty main course which was to come in but a few short hours. He wanted to touch Thor one last time. He wanted to kick him while he was down and rub salt in his wounds. But most of all he wanted to see it. He had to see it. He had to see with his own bright evergreen orbs the look in Thor's eyes when he knew that the world he had loved and fought for was going to come to an end. He wanted to make Prince Thor stare him dead in the face and acknowledge him as king. He was sure the sight would be one that he would not soon forget.

With that thought firmly planted in his brain, Loki cast an enchantment, one that caused the darkened cell to be brightened ever so slightly. The light that he allowed to penetrate the terrible bleakness was not a powerful one. The cell still only had a hazy gray tint to it. Loki peered in. He could see the slime and black mold that was formed on the wall and ceiling. There was a leak in the ceiling and a steady and irritating trickle of dirty water continued to drip. It had no doubt been leaking for a long which for the floor was nothing but a murky puddle with islands of mud and thatch scattered about. The chamber was sick looking. It was filled with all manner of torturous contraptions. There were electrode and rods and poles. There were shackles and chains that dangled from every corner. Out the corner of his emerald eyes he spied a very familiar device. The very sight of it momentarily wiped the nasty grin right off his face. The silver muzzle. He wished to spit. That terrible machine which clamped over his mouth and chained his silver tongue. They took from him his most powerful weapon. They locked up his gift. They were no better than the Dwarves. Once he'd tricked the Dwarves in a bet. The Dwarves were a stubborn and prideful people. They did not much care for riddles and games of tongue, but to indulge visiting royalty they indulged his bet for one of their prized treasure if he could stump them with a riddle. His riddle naturally had been a stumper and enraged by his silver tongue they'd sewn his lips together. His so called family had feigned anger and disgust and pain for his grief. Odin had paid a heavy price to the Dwarves to get the golden need and thread to remove the stitching. Thor and sworn that he would burn Nildivar to the ground. Queen Frigga had been the one to ever so carefully undo the terrible stitching. She'd kissed his brow every time he'd even flinched, she'd ran her delicate and tender finger over his swollen mouth and cooled his bleeding lips with ice. They'd acted as if they'd never seen such a barbaric act ever done to a prince and yet they'd turned around and done the same thing to him. Well they'd called themselves barbarians and a race of barbarians certainly didn't deserve mercy.

The self-proclaimed king of Asgard cracked his knuckles as he continued to survey the dismal cell. It was devoid of so many of the conveniences that the more modern cells possessed. It didn't even have a tile floor. It hadn't even a simple sleeping mat which was nothing but a pile of blankets and a pillow, no in this lowly prison hold there was nothing more than a large stone bench. It was filled with lumps and bumps and rough edges. Terribly uncomfortable to rest ones head upon. Loki should know. Loki could feel a rumble bubbling up in his throat as he thoughts about the precious months he'd been forced to lie on the rocky sill. Quickly, he had to counter the thought. He had to remind himself that tonight it was he who dined sumptuously at banquet and who had access to finery while Thor wallowed. He boasted to himself as he noted that Thor did not even have the option of lying down right now.

That's when his gorgeous emerald eyes finally shifted to staring and the miserable wretch in the cell. His thin lips curled into a deeply twisted grin as he looked in on the scene. The man was absolutely filthy. His long, blonde hair had become so begrimed that the golden prince looked as if he had been born a brunette. His body was bare aside from a tattered loincloth that was scarcely still covering his unmentionables. He was coated head to toe in sweat and mud and dirt. Not one part of his body was clean. He reeked. Loki was sure that the cell where he'd been hosted once had not been cleaned since his occupancy. Even the palace horses were good enough to have the stalls and stables mucked, but he hadn't been and the Dark-Elves were not kind not kempt enough to provide a prisoner with toiletries. Loki shook his head as he breathed in Thor's profuse stench. Thor had always been so big and bulky and had such a love of sports that he had always carried a pungent odor when he was dirty. He hoped Thor was sickened by his own smell.

Loki plugged his nose, hardly able to bear the sick smell anymore, but he did not shift his eyes from getting a good look at the broken son of Odin. Not only was Thor smattered with grime and slime, but he was dripping with blood. It was particularly distasteful how much blood was coming from him. Every part of his body had some sticky, crimson liquid pouring from it. He had a large knot on his forehead. It was all black and blue and purple. It was the size of a grapefruit and certainly an indicator of a concussion. He also had blood running down the side of his face from his temple. The warriors of Svartalfheim knew nothing about charity. If their people had ever once held consciences they had been seared out of them long ago by the power of the Aether. They showed only heartless savagery, that was apparent from the treatment they had mitigated out to Prince Thor. There were stripes on his back from a brutal flogging. It seemed as though all the flesh had been ripped from his back. There was nothing left of the skin of his back, there was nothing there save pus-filled, red and pink exposed muscle, tissue and sinew all being exposed to the nasty crud on his back. Loki bit his lip at the sight. Thor's back resembled uncooked ground mutton.

Thor's limbs were broken. His shoulders hung limply out of the sockets. They dangled like dead weights. His right leg was twisted and swollen. It had swelled so much so that it was nearly violet from the lack of circulation. Loki noted that Thor's bonds were heavy. He knew those old manacles well. He knew that they heavy and made of the strongest iron. They were meant to be able to hold giants, juggernauts and all the other most vicious of species that could roam the Nine Realms. The mage observed that the soldiers took great pains to make the manacles very tight. The sharp, little iron spikes that laced the inside of the chains. They dug into the skin like thousands of tiny jagged teeth and if and when the shackle would be removed it would take flesh with it. Blood was already running down Thor's wrist and drenching the shackle. Thor's blood was everywhere. it flowed like a river out of him and was soaked up by the thick black mud and it mingled with it giving it and earthy clay tint. It saturated the straw and stained it scarlet. That scarlet straw was stuck on Thor's body and it poked and prodded into his injuries. Truth be told, Loki was amazed at the amount of blood that seemed to be oozing out the crown prince of Asgard. It was pouring out by the bucket-load. It was washing over him and washing over everything. With so much life already drained from him, the enchanter was astonished that Thor was actually still alive. The Aesir were an exceptionally strong race. They were heartier, healthier and more capable of physical feats than almost any other beings in the universe. It was that reason that Loki had often felt out of place among them. He had never been as strong or physically powerful as his peers, his stamina for battle was not endless. He was easily overcome by foes and quickly hurt. It had taken him years to acquire the skills that others had been naturally blessed with. Diligent training and magic had been his allies. he'd worked hard to become a proud warrior of Asgard, just like Thor, but no one had ever noticed, respected or commended him for that. Bitterness welled up in him as he thought of how long he had trained and studied and did all he could to be the best he could be only to be scorned and mocked for his gift. His frown was turned upside down. It was he who had the last laugh now. He was about to break into a cackle, but his attention was deviated. He turned his thoughts, back to Thor. The Aesir were strong, but Thor was strongest of them all. He'd been endowed with such gifts and Loki had always known how powerful his once brother was, but beholding Thor in such a state was truly a marvel. The son of Odin should have been dead. He was stripped of his powers, stripped of Mjolnir, surely a lesser man would have been dead. Loki shook his head and crossed his arms across his armored chest. His signature smug-smirk rested on his narrow face. Thor had survived much. he'd give him that much. So, brave and strong and so miserable...well Loki fully intended to put him out of his misery soon enough.

Thor's labored breaths continued to come out of his throat. He was scrambled for air. He wheezed and coughed and it sounded as if the very life was being squeezed from his lungs. It was no surprise. Just as the fetters were tied tightly to his wrists and ankles so too was a shackle and chain wrapped around his neck. Even the shackles around the neck possessed the cruel jagged pieces of metal teeth, that dug into the flesh. Thick, crimson liquid flowed from his neck. it crisscrossed like a spiderweb as it flowed over his neck, collarbone and chest. The chain was tethered to the wall and surely the weight of the iron around Thor's beefy neck was unbearably heavy, for Thor's head just hung. It didn't move or wiggle or rock from side to side. Loki was positive that that was the only thing that was keeping Thor from being face down in the dirt. If he was to break the bonds, Thor would fall over and probably drown in the pools of his own blood. It just hung there and his chin was pressed into his chest. His bedraggled locks flopped in his face. Thor's back was bent as he hand a large wooden plank place across his shoulders. His wrists were strapped there and only exacerbated the pain of his broken limbs. Loki craned his neck to get a better look at Thor's face. It was a sight to make eyes sore. Cuts and bruises marred the golden prince's rugged and handsome feature. His lip was busted and a line of red trickled from his mouth down his chin like drool. In between his bleeding lips the Dark-Elf soldiers had placed a dirty cloth to gag him. His nose was broken and cracked. His dazzling sapphire eyes had swelled up to the size of grapefruits, but they looked more like oversized grapes with their great purple tint. He could open neither eye and so Loki doubted that the once proud thunderer had any idea he was even there.

A grimace traced across the regal ruler's keen face. That would never do. He couldn't very well gloat if Thor was unconscious. Well...he'd have to rectify that. But with the amount of pain Thor was in it would be hard to keep him awake. What to do? What to do? Loki remembered when he'd fallen into the hands of Thanos. The mad titan had shown him some of his most hellish instruments. He had informed him that sleep was the bodies own natural pain relief. But that was no fun for the tormentor. Watching the tortured fall asleep was far less entertaining that watching them writhe cry and whimper or beg for mercy. Loki had been on the receiving end of such suffering himself. And no matter how excruciating the pain, Thanos did not slacken his resolve. He had been lucky that after Thanos had seen his power he had been pleased with him and fallen into his good graces. There were many creatures who had happened upon the Void as he had and had not been so fortunate and their bones still littered the grounds around Thanos' throne. The new king gulped. He hadn't the malicious machinery which Thanos possessed. Still, he had something up his sleeve that he thought might just do the trick.

Loki put his left hand out in front of him, his right clung to Gungnir. He easily managed to phase through the broken barrier around the cell. Soon he had entered Thor's squalid domicile. He treaded softly across the thatch and mud and blood patches that made up the grotesque floor. Loki wasn't a healer, he'd never pretended to be, but over time he had picked up many valuable healing secrets from Dagmar.

"I really think that you should spend more time studying healing," Lady Dagmar told him on the afternoon after he had been discharged from the halls of healing. She was of the age of apprenticeship and Mistress Eir, the greatest healer in all the land had been willing to take the daughter of the Prime Minister of Vanahiem as one of her new pupils. Dagmar had spent most of the day shadowing with medicine woman. He was happy for it though. He'd found himself in chambers this week. Nothing too, serious he supposed. He was treated for a nasty battle-axe wound that had turned sceptic with poison.

He'd been hit by a rusty blade on the shoulder, in the heat of battle when he, Thor, the Warriors Three and Lady Sif were attacked by a band of marauders while trying to deliver a tribute to the all-father from the territory kingdoms. It was a simple enough task for Thor to undertake. Thor was roughly 600 years old and had been an Einherjar for a little over 50 years, but he hadn't been given any military tasks to undertake by his superior officers. He was thrilled with his assignment no matter how small it may have seen. He had the honor of going to collect tribute. The territories usually delivered their own tributes in cargos and caravans, but in the recent months they had been suffering attacks and had not been able to get any of the tribute through. This would never do. It was an insult for highwaymen to take the people's tax money for their king. Thor and a small band were just suppose to safely transport the gold. Thor invited him, he felt the journey would be easy, he didn't expect that the marauder's would actually try to rob him. They'd be crazy to think they could defeat and Einherjar, not to mention a prince of Asgard. Mother hadn't really wanted him to go, but father had encouraged it. Father, had said it would be good for him to take on civic responsibilities and he was proving more capable in his weapons training. Besides the king had thought that it would be good for the people of Asgard's far flung territories to have a chance to see bother their princes. So, he'd agreed to go.

He supposed he should have counted the blow as luckily, he was sure that the vicious marauder had been aiming for his throat. The blade had been jagged, but the wound hadn't been very deep. Or at least so he hadn't thought it was very deep. He'd used a simple trick to patch up the wound and stop the bleeding, but what he hadn't known was that jagged axe's blade was tipped with poison. He'd felt fine immediately after the battle. They'd captured those pesky marauders who had been preying on caravans for years and they all feasted to celebrate another splendid victory, but when night time fell, he found himself dizzy, faint and full of thirst. These seemed like natural reactions be being in the desert, he took to bed early. But he found himself unable to sleep, his stomach was twisted in terrible knots, he couldn't stop spewing and by morning Thor had said that he was dreadfully feverish and delirious. Honestly, he couldn't say that he remembered a bit of it. The last thing that he remembered was waking up in the healing ward to Lady Dagmar's lovely face staring over him. Her silver eyes were wide with concern and her sweet, full, pomegranate lips were pursed with worry. Her delicate porcelain fingers were resting on his deathly pale cheek and another hand held a healing crystal over his forehead. And when his eyes fluttered open, she smiled so brightly and so beautifully and that smile was just for him. Even in his hazy state he could not imagine a better sight to wake up to and if spending a few days in the healers was what it took for that to happen then he would quite happily return.

"Healing enchantments are fascinating, I must admit," Loki said as they walked along. He placed his hand behind his back as he stared at her angelic face. She was older now. Her face had lost the rounded baby features and as she had grown taller she had started to round out in all the right places. She was dressed in one of the healing apprentice uniforms a simple gray color toga with a dark blue sash. A young noble such as she should have been arrayed in the most exquisite of gowns, but despite the common apparel she was lovely as ever. He was also draped a garment from the healing ward, it was a loose fitting white tunic and pair of matching trousers. It was good to be dismissed from under the healer's charge and allowed to go back to his own chamber once more.

"Then why don't you study it with me?' Dagmar asked eagerly. She turned around and her silver orbs glowed with excitement of the prospect of them being in classes together once more. "It would be so much more fun," she said her voice practically a whine and whimper. "We could practice together," she interjected.

"We always practice together, anyway," Loki shrugged.

"Exactly, my point," the ebony-haired Vanir maiden pointed out. "it would be so much more effective if you were a student as well."

Loki blushed and threw up his hands, "No, no...I couldn't," he insisted there was a smile on his face, but his tone was somewhat serious. "Really," his voice trailed off. He twiddled with his fingers. He didn't want to say it, but he took enough flack from the members of court for studying magic as it was. A prince of Asgard wasn't supposed to be a wizard, but rather a warrior; a prince who was a healer...he'd be a laughingstock.

"What do you mean? Of course you can, " Lady Dagmar insisted.

Loki's green eyes rolled. "I have so many studies Dagmar...I really don't have time in my schedule..."

"Don't you want to be a well-rounded enchanter?' She inquired as she batted long dark lashes at him.

"Of course," He announced. "But," he started to counter.

She cut him off as she held her hand out in his face. "You are the one who is always saying how a well-rounded enchanter must understand all the different aspects of magic," She pointed out giggling as she tapped him on the nose.

He caught her by the finger. His lips stretched over his straight white teeth in a broad grin. "That is true and I have studied, but I don't need to know so much if I carry a healer with me at all times," the prince counters as his jade eye gave her a wink, his hand still wrapped around her finger.

"Well I can't be with you all the time," she admitted and looked down. Something about the was Loki looked at her made her cheeks feel warm.

"Why?" Loki questioned. The question came out all too eagerly. His voice nearly cracked. "I mean...I...that is," he cleared his throat and took it down an octave. "I really think that you should stay in Asgard. You shouldn't let anything keep you from your studies. Your learning under Mistress Eir is so important. Who knows soon you could be the Mistress Healer of all the Nine Realms," he practically exclaimed.

"I can't stay in Asgard forever, Loki you know that," she said as she bowed her head.

Loki's gentle hands took her own. "You don't have to go, Dagmar," he insisted. "I'm sure you could just tell your father..."

"I miss my father and friends in Vanahiem when I am gone. Our realm is wartorn, but there is still good there. Our people in general want peace and I must work with my father to help that dream become a reality," she confirmed.

"I understand," Loki replied with a nod. And although he did understand he most certainly didn't like what she was saying. He missed her terribly when she went back to her realm. She was his truest of friends and when she was in Asgard he for once felt understood and celebrated rather than tolerated and indulged. He hated losing that feeling, he hated losing her even when he knew she would return in a few short months. But he admired her strength and her duty and loyalty to her father and people. He shook his head and quickly, changed the subject. "Well I suppose I will have to settle for the cheap substitute of a healing crystal rather than having my own personal mistress healer to tend my wounds," he said with a lament and then flashed a quick smile in her direction. He pulled a healing crystal talisman out from under the collar of his white tunic and waved it in front of her face. "A healing crystal is easy enough for any ole fool to use and it can heal most things," he shrugged and yawned. His eyes scanned the hallways for a bench to sit rest for a moment. He didn't want to admit out loud, but the walk from the healing rooms to his bedchamber was certainly starting to tire him out. He had not been out of bed in a little over 3 days.

The daughter of Prime Minister Audric watched as the healing crystal swung back and forth from a black string as it hung from Loki's finger tips. Her fingers reached out to try and grab the talisman from his hands, but he seemed to be keeping it just out of reach. Finally, while Loki's eyes were concentrated on something else she snapped her fingers and the talisman vanished from Loki's fingers and instantly appeared around her neck. "Well what if you didn't have a healing crystal?" Dagmar asked. There was cheeky tone to her silvery voice.

Prince Loki turned to face her noticing that his hands felt a little lighter. He looked down at his fingers and gaped as he found that they were devoid of the healing crystal. It didn't take long before the glow of the purple gem reflecting in the chandelier light caught his eye. He bit his lip as he tried to suppress a nervous smile. The crystal seemed to be placed perfectly in her cleavage. Loki tried to avert his emerald eyes. He forced them to look down, to look sideways and to roll upward, but somehow, they seemed to keep floating back to staring at Lady Dagmar's chest. His fingers twitched and he was sorely tempted to reach his nimble, young fingers out and pluck it from her slender, white, swan-like neck. Dare he too be so bold and by chance his knuckles may have had the chance to brush against her blossoming bosom.

Loki's porcelain cheeks reddened like ripe tomatoes as the scandalous thought rolled through his mind. "I will make sure to always carry one," Loki pledged as he put his hand over his heart and twisted his fingers around one another. He nibbled ever so slightly on his lower lip.

"Hmph," Dagmar raised her nose and turned her back on her royal friends while her arms were folded. Loki was hardly forgetful and if he promised her he would do something she knew that he would be a man of his word. Slightly annoyedly, she slipped the talisman from around her neck and let it dangle from her little finger as she held her hand over her shoulder. Carefully, the younger son of Odin took it from her and placed it back around his own neck. The crystal was made warm by the touch of her flesh. "But you said it yourself," the ebony haired Vanir maiden pointed out as she turned around to face him and snapped her fingers. An ecstatic expression was etched across her ever lovely face with the thought of being able to best the clever young prince at a game of wits. "A healing crystal can heal most things, but not everything. What will you do if you encounter something which its cannot heal?" she questioned. She cocked her head to the side and jutted out her hip, crossed her arms and pursed her lips as she waited for his answer.

Loki put his hand to his, "Alas, I suppose I am doomed in that case," he teased a slight tug of grin on the corner of his lips and an ever mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Don't say that!" Dagmar said as she slapped him on the shoulder. She only caused the younger prince of Asgard to burst into boyish laughter. He was a youth of 514 years around the Midgardian age of 15, but when he laughed she could still hear the innocent sound of her childhood friend. For a moment she returned his laughter, but then her laughter ceased as her voice grew softer though sterner. "You were truly very ill for a time there," she expressed. She took a deep breath. "The healers didn't know..." Her voice trailed off and she played with her fingers. "It was hard for people to see you like that...hard for your mother... father...Thor...me" she finally whispered at the end. Finally, she raised her sparkling silver eyes and looked up at him. The way she stared at him caused his heart to flutter faster and faster. He felt like her was melting.

Loki gulped. The new nervous lump in his throat was so thick that he could hardly find his silver-tongue and cause it to move. "I'm alright," the younger prince of Asgard, finally managed to say as he took his friend by the hand. "I'm sure it is not the sickest I have been, " he explained. "And in having a brother like Thor, I am sure it is not the worst battle wound I will suffer," he joked.

Dagmar nodded as she allowed a small smile to grace her ripe, kissable pomegranate mouth. She wiped her eyes before tears could fall. "Exactly," she went on. "Who knows what misadventures and scrapes the two of you are likely to get into in the future. Thor was able to get you home quickly this time, but in the future...who knows... Norns forbid, but...you may not be as fortunate...I" her voice cracked. "I could show you some things, just a few more small things, Loki. They could save your life or Thor's or Sif's or Volstaggs or any of Asgard's fine warriors if the time came," she insisted. And the way that she looked at him was so earnest, so desperate and house so much affection that how could deny her what she asked for.

"Well milady, when you put it like that...I would be but a great fool not to heed the wisdom of your instruction. I will be your apt and ready pupil as soon as you're are ready to teach," he stated and gave her a sweeping bow.

Dagmar beamed, her silver eyes shined as brightly as her perfect smile. "Ahh," she sighed and gave him and tut-tut tap on the head. "That's a good boy," she chuckled. "I suppose you do deserve one day of rest before your rigorous training begins."

"One day at least, I'd say," Loki chimed in. "Especially after my near brush with death," he feigned.

"Oh you," she said playfully as she pushed his face away from her own.

Over the course of the next week Dagmar had taken great time and care in instructing him in some of the more intricate healing enchantments that she was learning from Mistress Eir. The daughter of the Prime Minister of Vanahiem was actually surprised at how much her old friend actually already knew. she supposed that she shouldn't have been. Loki had always been studious and diligent and had always been advanced in his studies. He was the type of young man who always took the time to teach himself new skills. He had expressed how he had taken several courses on healing and he was most fascinated by how the Aesir in many ways possessed innate magical properties in their bodies that allowed them to heal faster than many other races. But Lady Dagmar was also a fine student and teacher. She was impressed by his knowledge and that made him want to work harder and learn more to continue to impress her.

"Mistress Eir allowed me to borrow this from her private collection," Dagmar explained as she plopped a large, heavy leather-bound on to the wooden table in the library. The blue book weighed a ton. It was dusty and the pages were tattered. There was an ancient symbol on it painted in white of two vipers wrapped around a staff the symbol was highlighted in a silver trimming. The pages of the book were feathery and musty smelling.

"The Curative," Loki read out loud as his finger traced along the label transcribed in old rune script. "This text is ancient..." The young prince expressed breathlessly.

"Yes, I know," Dagmar Audricdottir nodded. "it is the first written compendium of medicinal knowledge shared between the Nine Realms," she expressed. "There is a trick in here...I think it could be...useful for you on the battle field...I'm not exactly sure how to execute it though," she shrugged.

"Did you ask, Mistress Eir?" Prince Loki questioned as he thumbed through the pages. He just took a glance at a few of the chapters some where about surgeries and procedures, others were about elixirs and tonics that could be concocted. In the very back on the book he found some very complicated incantations. Dagmar shook her heard.

"it's this one," the Vanir noblewoman stated and she pointed her finger down at the page.

"Why?" Loki questioned and referred to the previous thought, before he started reading the details contained on the page. "She is the one to help you with such matters."

"I was afraid," Dagmar stated.

"Afraid?" Loki practically laughed. "What in Asgard for?" He chuckled. "You are her apprentice and Mistress Eir is probably one of the kindest ladies in court," he expressed and then he brought his eyes down to continue reading what was written.

"I didn't think that she would be willing to instruct me... I don't know...I suppose I thought that she would think it was too..."

"Dark," Prince Loki finished her statement for her as he looked up at her with wide eyes.

Dagmar gasped, her face looked a fright, she was raking her fingers nervously through her long black tresses. "Is it too dark, Loki?" She asked her eyes trembling. "I don't want to do it...if it is...I..."

"It is an advanced working that is for sure," Loki said as he studied it further. "But it could be life-saving and I see nothing dark about that myself," he stated.

"That was exactly my thought!" Dagmar exclaimed. "if used properly it could keep a soldier who would elsewise be mortally wounded alive long enough for him to receive proper medical attention," she pointed out.

"You intend to show me how to execute this?" Loki asked his eyes hopeful. Thor and their friend kept telling him that he needed to hone his weapon training more if he ever intended to become a warrior of Asgard and engage in glorious battle. He countered with the fact that he could use his magic, but they didn't believe. They didn't see how magic could have any practical use in combat. Something like this could certainly show them. He could feel his breathing becoming more and more ragged as they thought planted itself in his mind. He could feel a snort coming on.

Dagmar took him by the hand. "I thought we could learn it together," she expressed as her pomegranate lips formed a soft smile.

Loki rubbed his palms together as he recalled the spell that they had learned together. It was intricate and complicated. Perhaps it was as close to a dark cast as it came to getting dark without actually being dark. It wasn't that the enchantment did anything bad, oh the contrary, it actually was an incantation used for healing. It could stop a person from dying. It was to be used on the most severe injuries when a person was actually mortally wounded. The enchantment could halt the person's wounds from progressing. It could even reverse some of damage, but only temporarily. If the person was not treated the injuries would come back and they would take effect as if the enchantment had never been cast. It was at this time that the person was at very great risk of dying. Also, the incantation would only work once on the very afflicted individual. He supposed that some people considered this particular working somewhat unnatural and that is why it may have been viewed by some shallow minds as dark. The thought made Loki scoff wasn't all mysticism unnatural? In truth it could do more harm than good to an individual. It could save their life on one hand, but if the person didn't receive true healing treatment when the magic passed it was likely that the person could die on the spot.

It had been a long time since Loki had worked this particular brand of magic, but the king was sure that he could still do the trick. He surveyed Thor's pathetic form. It was most apparent that Prince Thor was on his last leg. Without the intervention of a healer he was highly unlikely to survive. Well he couldn't have that. He wanted to be seen defeating Thor, not have Thor fade away from loss of blood. Thor would be dead soon enough, but he at least wanted Thor to be able to look him in the eye before the end.

Loki's cold pale hand hovered over Prince Thor's limp, bloodied, unconscious form. His hand started to glow with a warm, yellow light. He closed his eyes and concentrated. He could feel Thor's injuries. He was overcome by a wave of incredible pain and agony. He could feel it radiating all around him. He felt it in his arms and legs, his head his chest and back. He could feel every cut and every bleeding oozing wound. The raven-haired enchanted started to feel breathless. The pain was suffocating and stifling. He wanted to scream, but he was now in far too much pain to even utter a sound. He opened his mouth to let out a yell or holler, but all that came out of his mouth was a terrible, ragged raspy gasp. Loki's other hand strayed to his neck. He clawed as his ivory throat as if he was trying to pry the cold grip of death's fingers from around his esophagus. King Loki started to shake. He felt weak and lightheaded. He was able to view all of Thor's internal injuries. He could see the punctures in Thor's lungs, the bruising of his soft tissues in his stomach and the internal bleeding that the beatings had caused. He could the see the contusions and swellings pressed on Thor's skull. Loki's own head began to throb and ache abominably. He felt as if his own brain was filling with fluid and blood. The pressure seemed uncontainable and he was sure his head was going to give way to an explosion. Hot tears of anguish welled up his emerald eyes. Loki's hand was no longer steady, his knees were starting to buckle and if he did not do something soon he was sure that Thor's pain would consume him.

Loki could feel his body slowly sinking to the ground. He was quivering like a leaf and his voice wasn't strong as he whispered the words of the incantation. The words were weak but the enchantment was strong. He let out an exhale as he felt Thor's pain leave him. He was panting and huffing, shoulders heaving as he felt his own strength return. Then he watched, he watched in amazement as he saw a healing take place. The internal hemorrhaging ceased. The punctures in his lungs closed to just small holes. The broken bones and cracked ribs started to snap and set back into place, not as if they were completely healed, but as if they had just been bound, treated and placed in casts and splints. The crown prince of Asgard let out muffled groans as he felt the changes in his body's condition. The pressure in his forehead from his terrible concussion started to be alleviated. It was no longer the skull-splitting pounding of being struck with the force of Mjolnir over and over, it was still painful, but the pain was dulled and tolerable as if he had been drugged. Scarlet liquid stopped escaping from open gashes that were spread across his body. The wounds were still there, they were simply horrendous looking, his scarred back still resembled a chessboard with lines of grievous crimson and harrowing purple traversing the across his broken back. The grapefruit sized swelling of his eyeballs went down. They were still blackened, but at least the son of Odin no longer looked deformed. Finally, Loki heard Thor's breathing ease. it slowed to the huff of someone in a deep sleep. It was practically a snore and Thor had been known to rumbled like thunder when he snored.

As Loki's magical ministration took effect and Thor's black sleep was interrupted. He found his foggy mind was soon flooded. At first it was just swirling colors and flashes of light. Sounds soon followed. It was all a chaotic ruckus. The noises were loud and hurried. There were many different voices all talking at once. Some were shouting and yelling, others were simply talking sternly and some seemed to be weeping. The images came into focus. But they were still not keep and sharp. It was somewhat a blur like staring through a dirty window. Yet Thor started to recognize some of the images around him. It was a great gray room. There were limestone columns and spiraling domed ceilings with outcoves and balconies. The floors were polished marble and all around were pews and chairs that sat up high. Thor started to be able to make out the pews and seats were full there were even people clamoring at the doors and windows trying to push their way in to the great hall. There was a judge's bench raised in the center of the marble floor. The bench was tall and elegant. It was crafted of a silver of the finest quality. The shine of it was so brilliant that it almost glowed and looked white. The squabbling of those seated in the high and lofty seats continued. He could still hear them banging and shouting and pounded their fists against the rails. It was quite a mess. He started to think that this was some session of council. He had attended many council sessions and he'd seen the arguments get heated before. It was not uncommon for a disagreement to be settled by a javelin being tossed across the room at another delegates head, but this was something completely different. It was just frenzy and he still could not make out the faces of those around, but it was more than 50 representatives that made up Asgard's High Council. It was more like hundreds.

His vision continued to clear and finally, he was able to make out the figures he gazed down in judgment. It was enough to make him draw back. The sight that he saw was simply awful. They were creatures of great size. They were strange beasts with the bodies of all different animals mashed together. Some had the horns of a ram, faces of bear, bodies like rhinoceroses and legs like a man. Other's had the horn of a rhinoceros sticking out of the center of the face, but the face was that of a lion and the body was of a bird, but still they had a man's legs as well. Some had horrible lizard heads, buffalo bodies and eagles' wings. Thor glanced around and saw several different combinations of these horrendous monsters. Each one was frightening and yet each one was regal and noble and awe-inspiring in its own like. They stood tall like monuments and they did not move a muscle, but their eyes, their eyes were keen and roving about. They looked low.

Before long Prince Thor was able to see more and more of those who were gathered in this great hall of judgment. The figures were smaller now and much more human like. He saw familiar faces. He saw the faces of the members of Asgard's High Council, he also so many nobles and dignitaries from the other realms. He saw Prime Minister Audric of Vanaheim and even Lady Dagmar. For a moment he felt relief at seeing the lovely woman again. He followed the line and he soon gazed upon the Vanaheim king and several of his daughters. He glanced further around the circular chamber and he found other peoples as well. He saw the Light Elves. He saw their several kings and princes from their many vast kingdoms, he saw the generals of the Dwarves and the Elders of Musepleheim and in the highest reaches of the balcony he noted Norns. Closer to the floor Thor gazed upon his friends. He saw Volstagg, Hogun, Frandal and Lady Sif. Their faces were hardened. He even saw some of his newer companions, the Avengers. They were all there gathered around, Stark, Rogers and Banner along with Natasha Romanoff, Barton and even Nick Fury. Thor thought he made out his own voice calling to them, but it was hard to truly know as there was so much commotion going on. How had they gotten to Asgard? He turned around a beheld the other side of the floor and there on the other side sitting in great gilded thrones were illustrious royal figures. They were all gleaming and glowing in resplendent robes of gorgeous, glorious purples, vibrant ruby reds, dazzling diamond studded blues and brilliant golds. They were each and everyone breathtaking and angelic in appearance. Once again as Thor gazed upon beautiful people he gained more clarity as to who they were. He remembered them. They were the great kings and queens of Asgard's past. He recognized their faces from the busts and statues that he'd seen all around his kingdom all of his life. He saw from King Bor, his grandfather and Bestia his grandmother all the way down to Aksel, the first all-father. Thor felt thus inclined to bow before his forefathers.

Just then, the prince of Asgard watched a great door open from behind the judge's bench. Two figures strolled out of the door. Their strides were strong and proud. Their heads were held high and their backs were straight. They parted ways and stood on either side of the judge's bench on an elevated platform. Thor struggled to recognize their images. They were both clothed in flawless white. Soon he could see that one figure was male and one figure was female. With a second glance Thor knew exactly who they were. They were his parents, King Odin, all-father and Queen Frigga, all-mother. Prince Thor was certain that this time his voice rang out to greet his parents. Their eyes flickered as they seemed to recognize their names being called. They looked up and Thor was sure that they were staring right at him, but their eyes...their eyes were not their own. They were milky white. Thor gasped at what he beheld.

Thor was now beginning to surmise the very meaning of what he was seeing. It was a court case, rather than a council hearing and all these beings were here to pronounce judgment and to help sentence some unfortunate wretch. All of a sudden a nervous feeling swelled in the pit of the prince's stomach. Whoever was being sentenced here today would not find mercy. Surely, their crimes must have been egregious for all these people of power to be summoned to rule in judgment of them. "Loki," Thor mouthed. He could think of no other scoundrel who would have committed such atrocities and would vexed the Nine Realms so. His heart was soon racing. He knew that today would be the day that Loki would surely die. He deserved death after all he had done. He was simply a rabid animal and if he wasn't stopped he would consume the Nine Realms and plunge them into chaos. There was nothing else to be done to a villain such as Loki. No other fate would do. Justice demanded death it was just that simple. The realms called for it, his friends called for it, his forefathers demanded it. Thor gulped.

He looked back up at the silver judge's bench. He wondered why his mother and father were standing to the side. If Odin wasn't taking the stand as judge then who? Who else was qualified and had the power to sentence Loki to death? Thor continued gazing at the judge's bench until finally the door behind the podium opened once more. A figure immerged and the crowd of hosts fell silent. A man walked out the doors. he was a stately figure. He was a man of war, he was a mighty man of valor and he had the respect of all the people of the Nine Realms. He was arrayed regal red attire and glittering polished silver armor. At first Thor thought that he was staring at his father in another form, perhaps a younger version of his father, but then with a more careful examination, Thor realized that he beheld himself. A much older version of himself, but himself nonetheless. He recognized this self. He'd seen it many, many years prior, when he was in the Temple of Tribute collecting his helmet.

Emotions ran wild within the crown prince. He hated the thought of having to sentence Loki to death. He knew it was right. He knew that there was really no other choice, there was no alternative, Loki would never stop of his own volition, so he had to be stopped. But knowledge of such matters didn't make the job any less painful. But he would do it this time. He had to do it. He would do it, if only to spare his mother and father the pain of such a ruthless undertaking.

He stood behind the judge's bench and raised Mjolnir and swung it as a gavel to call the court to order. "Bring out the prisoner," his voice thundered in the great hall. All eyes swung to the very back of the room. There, there was a very tall and ornately carved wooden door. Soon Heimdal stepped from behind the wooden door and forward toward the podium. Heimdal was wearing an unusual black armor. He looked more like an executioner than a gatekeeper. He bowed and then proceeded to walk into the great hall. From the back of the hall he pulled a long and heavy chain across the floor. The heavy chains rattle across the marble floor filled the room and so did Heimdal's lumbering footsteps as all was silent. He took the long walk from the back of the wall to the judge's bench and when he was only a few feet from the judge's bench the prisoner's chain filled the court could feel his pulse quickening and a lump forming in his throat. He didn't want this, but it was justice and only justice could bring peace to the Nine Realms. Thor looked up and beheld the prisoner connected to the end of the chain, but he did not see a thin, darkly-clad, raven-haired green eyed man, rather once again he saw himself.

He was dragged out before the spectators and the delegates. He was not even allowed to walk as his knees scraped across the floor. The crowd roared and hissed and booed and heckled as they saw him. He'd never received such scorn. He tried to shield himself from their vehemence, but there was nothing he could do. The shackles were so heavy that he could not even raise his arms to block the fruit and vegetables that they were armed with from hitting him in the face and back. He was huddled on the ground, his armor had been stripped but he still wore his royal attire, red tunics and blue trousers, but soon they were coated with food.

The older version of himself raised his weathered hand and once again the commotion settled. The delegates regained some semblance of dignity and order and took their seats. "Thor Odinson," the older image of himself boomed. "This court hereby finds you guilty of the high crimes of treason against Asgard and the Nine Realms. You are found guilty of causing Ragnorok," he pronounced. Thor tried to push himself to his feet, but he failed miserably and so he settled for resting on his knees. He was panting and trembling. A spotlight shined down on his bent back and he was sweating profusely. He could feel the eyes of aww the spectators, the royals and nobles and the ancients of the past staring down at him. Their piercing glances full of hate and angered burrowed deep into his soul like 1000 knives. The delegates were soon in an uproar once again. They were screaming, shouting, jumping up and down, stomping their feet and beating their chest, foaming at the mouth and demanding his immediate sentencing.

Thor shook and looked all around the room. His cerulean eyes were pleading and desperate to find one soul who did not condemn him. He found none, even when he looked at his own friends they seemed to stare right through him, their eyes were glaring daggers and filled with searing hot lead. He looked to his mother and father, surely they would be willing to show him some mercy, interceded on his behalf, but their eyes were milky white and blind to him. He beheld his older self. he gulped and then held his breath as he stared up at the imaged of a regal man who was every inch a king. A man who was the epitome of a son of Odin, but still this man was him and what person would put their own self to death. He saw sorrow and disappointment in his older image's eyes, but he did not see regret and he did not see any willingness to recant in doling out a punishment.

"Your crimes are so dark and heinous that it is impossible to even find a punishment even suitable for what you have done," the ruler spoke. "But we have chosen wisely and you will indeed face an everlasting punishment for your treason," he rumbled and the room shook. Thor could say nothing. He bowed his back curving as he sunk under the gravity of what he had done. He accepted his fate. "Now is your own chance to speak...chose your words wisely..." The stern voice warned as he folded bulging biceps across his silver-plated chest.

Thor raised his blonde head, the chamber was icy with unforgiving stares. "It was Loki who brought Ragnorok upon us all," he pleaded.

"And it was you who let him!" His older self shouted down. He banged the hammer against the judge's bench. "You failed to fulfill your sacred duty," he accused a snarl on his lips. "You betrayed us...you abandoned us," his cold voice was a blast of thunder from the distant mountains.

"No! I..." Thor started. He looked up for a moment and tried to raise his hands to plead, but the chains were so weighted that they fell back down at his side. Thor's shoulders slumped, his head fell and his golden mane smacked him in the face. "Yes," he breathed.

Lightning flicked in the King Thor's sapphire pupils. Mjolnir was raised. "You confirm it then," he said with disgust.

"Yes," Prince Thor admitted. His voice was hushed, but the room was so frightfully quiet that every breath bounced off the walls and resounded in his ears. "I did bring Ragnorok," Thor confessed. "I didn't stop Loki. I had the power to and I didn't do it...that makes me responsible."

"Murderer!" Raged the older man.

"MURDER! MURDERER! MURDERER!" The crowd shouted.

"DEATH BRINGER!"

"DESTROYER OF WORLDS!" More and more called out.

"I never meant for this to happen," Thor tried to explain. His head swung back and forth and he gazed at his accusers.

"Never meant for this to happen" Thor's kingly self, tossed his white-haired head back and laugh. "And what did you do to stop it?" He questioned.

"Nothing," Thor blurted out.

"Then you are condemned by your own words," the king proclaimed and he started to lower Mjolnir to bang the gavel and pronounce judgment.

"I thought Loki was in trouble!" The cried out. He fumbled for an explanation. "I...I...I thought," he shook his head. "I thought that if I saved him. If I showed him I still cared...I thought he'd mend his wicked ways...I gave up my powers to save my brother's life," he explained.

"And what evidence did Loki ever give that he could or would change?" His older self demanded. Thor sat there on his knees silent for a long while. "Answer me!" The king demanded.

"None," Prince Thor sighed. He kept his gaze lowered and looked at his shaking hands. "He tricked me," he expressed.

"You were not tricked," King Thor growled through his clenched teeth. "You knew exactly what this was! You knew exactly what he was." He closed his eyes and shook his head bitterly. "You were warned." He declared as his bright blue eyes popped back open.

"You were warned by me," Laufey stood up. "The house of Odin has many traitors."

"You were warned by me," stated Bruce Banner. The good doctor stood to his feet. "His mind is a bag full of cats, you can smell crazy on him."

"You were warned by me," Lady Sif rose to her feet. "A wolf can never be trusted."

"You were warned by me," King Odin spoke up. He took a few steps closer to his son. "Loki is not well."

"And you were warned by me," King Thor proclaimed. "If he betrayed the bond, if you could not trust him."

Thor's eyes filled with tears. "I tried to save Loki's life because I loved him," his voice cracked as it tore from his throat raggedly. "I didn't want to believe those things about him...I thought he could change he sobbed.

"You walked into this full of child-like naivete, but you didn't walk in blind. You chose ignorance and folly when truth and wisdom were handed to you. You were unfit to rule," his kingly form condemned.

"I was...I...am," Thor bobbed his head. "I was never cut out to be king," he admitted. "I'm so sorry," he looked up at the crowd with wet eyes.

"But you took the oath. You swore to defend Asgard. You swore to protect the Nine Realms, but you have left us to burn and plunged us into darkness and sorry can right that," the judge confirmed.

"I know," Thor blubbered. "But what more can I do...what more can I say, I beg your forgiveness," he fell prostrate before the judge. "I throw myself on the mercy of this court. "Perhaps my guilt simply lies in loving my brother too much...I...I..I"

The one who stood in judgment shook his head. "There is a time and there is a place when love must trump duty, but that is only if the sacrifice for that love can bring all to the greater good...that is what you never understood," the king spoke. "And what of these," the king's hand waved and he gestured toward all the delegates, "These innocents, did you not love them?" He asked.

Thor nodded and sniffled. "Yes, I love them...I loved all of them...my friends, my people...the realms...I just.."

"What you say no longer matters!" The judge shouted. "You have condemned them all to death!" He enunciated harshly.

"NO!" Prince Thor cried out. He tried to stretch forth his hand. He reached toward his mother and father, but he watched as the vanished in a puff of smoke. "NO!" He shouted once more as he watched them disappear. "Please," he wept as he beheld each and every friend dissipating into thin air. One by one he watch Frandal and Volstagg and Sif and Captain Rogers and Tony Stark and every vanish into nothingness. Soon all the delegates were gone. Thor was left alone trembling on the floor.

"The Nine Realms are gone because of you. I should have killed you all those years ago in the Temple of Tribute. You showed your weakness then," The king shook his head.

"Please kill me," Thor bellowed. "Let me be with them."

"Oh no little prince, you shall not join them in the halls of Valhalla, for that is a place of heroes and you are no hero."

"What?" Thor gasped. Just then the room began to quake. The very foundations of the floor shook fiercely and the ground gave way and the floor cracked. Fire rose up from the creaks and crevices and lapped up and danced around Prince Thor. "No! No! No!" Thor screamed as if got hotter and hotter all around him. The king turned his back and walked away. "PLEASE!" He shrieked. The terrible beasts jumped down from their lofty positions and with rods they started to poke and shove Prince Thor and try to push him into the flames. Thor panicked and scrambled, wept and begged, but now it all seemed to be too late. Black, skeletal fingers reached up and grabbed for his ankles. "NOOOO!" The thunder roared.

The dark-haired mage took a step closer toward the bound and dirty prisoner. Thor was still a far cry from being well, he was still terribly tattered looking, but he was salvageable for now. King Loki licked his lips, he panted and lowered his hand from hovering over the crown prince's body. Thor was starting to thrash. A quizzical look played across Loki's lean face. The worst of Thor's injuries had at least been soothed. So why this sudden development. The chains rattled as Thor continued to quake. Loki put his hand just above Thor's dirty blonde mop of hair. He could sense something. There was something that was raging inside of the prince of Asgard, it was agonizingly painful, but it was not a physical ailment. "A nightmare?" Loki mused. He scratched his chin curiously as he noticed this. In all the years he'd known Thor he'd never known the man to have a nightmare. Not even when they were children. He always had nightmares, but not Thor. Thor always slept well and soundly. He could always run into Thor's room and count on the fearless boy to help him settle back down at night. He supposed it made sense that Thor didn't have any nightmares. Nightmare's were for people who weren't so self-assured, nightmares were for people with unspoken fears. A wicked little grin trickled across the king's lips. It was nice to know that after all those years of being esteemed for his courage and dauntlessness that it was he who had actually broken Thor's spirit and made him afraid. He tapped his fingers against one another with glee. He quickly pulled out one of his polished silver-daggers. The gleaming weapons were sharper than most swords. He held the pointed blade just over Thor's bowed head. The man he had once called his brother continued to quake and shake. Loki's breathing grew more and more agitated and more and more intense. Swiftly, he brought the blade down and sliced it right through the chain that fastened Thor by the neck to the wall. Thor fell forward.

Prince Thor could feel himself falling. He felt his body lurch forward and tumble toward the cracked ground and into the dancing fire. He could still, feel the cold, bony, charcoaled fingers grabbing at him and holding him. The fingers were taking hold of him by his forearms and shoulders around his back and wrist and ankles. He was twisting and writhing, shimmying and manuevering all he could, but he could not break free. It was terrible. Finally, Thor began to feel cold, hard slaps coming up against his cheek. The slaps were so strong and powerful that the jolted the prince.

"AHHHHH!" Prince Thor's bloodshot baby-blue eyes flung open. His arms flailed about, his legs kicked and bucked recklessly. "NO! Get away! Get away!: he cried out, but his voice was petrified and pathetic. "Please," he whimpered as big tears washed his dirty face. A cold, thin hand took hold of his wrist. He tried to pull free. Another hand came up quickly and slapped him across the face.

The slap was jarring, but somehow less brutal than the ones he had previously experiences. Finally, his sapphire blue eyes were able to see. He took in his surroundings. They were far from beautiful or luxurious, but even this terrible prison cell was better than the cursed depths of Helhiem. His heart had been racing and pounding, but at he looked around his pulse started to slow down. A grateful wave washed over him as he realized he was not dead. Soon his mind recalled why he was here. Everything came back to him in a wave and a flash. He remembered all he had experienced at the hands of the Dark-Elves, the cruel beatings and whippings and the humiliation of being made to serve those savages. He could hardly bear it. He shook his head and his eyes batted as he struggled to stay awake. He focused on what was in front of him. A pale face swam in and out of focus. Thor tried to concentrate, but the more he did the more his head ached. He started to close his eyes once more.

"Now, now, now," a hushed, cool voice whispered softly to him. Cold fingers were pressed to his chin. "Rise and shine, your highness," Loki said with a sinister smirk on his face. He let go of Thor and rose to his full height.

Thor's eyes continued to flutter. His lips quivered as he struggled to find words. "L-l-l-Loki," he rasped.

The regal man, glad in the most ornate green and gold garments smiled with a nobility that almost seemed sincere. He gave a sweeping bow. "In the flesh," he crowed back. New king of Asgard started to rub his white palms together. He took a deep breath like he was breathing the fresh air at the shore for the first time in the summer months rather than inhaling the noxious scent of refuse that permeated the grimey cell. "MMMm," he hummed a sweet and satisfied purred. "How the might have fallen," he quoted. "How the tides have turned," He expressed with a devilish glee as he rotated his index finger. "Just a mere few days ago, I was the lowly prisoner, wallowing in my lonely cell and you were the king," Loki clicked his tongue. "But look at me now," the emerald eyed enchanter taunted. He twirled about so that Thor could get a good view of him. he wanted himself to be in full displace. From the shined golden curves of his horned helmet, to the polished black leather of his boots, to his glittering armor and his well-tailored cape made of velvet which was a green so rich that it could only be rivaled by his eyes. "Like what you see?" He questioned. "Even you must admit, I certainly do look the part," Loki gave a wink. Thor was slow of tongue and he was quite shocked at seeing Loki's horned figure looming overhead. "Fate is a funny thing isn't it?" He inquired.

Thor struggled, but he found that his arms were free. He still had shackles on his wrists and ankles and even around his neck, but he was not chained to the wall any longer. His muscular arms felt too weak to even be raised. But with all his might he wanted to wrap his meat hooks around Loki's slender white could not raise them high enough. He looked around once again and noted that he was not on the floor on his hands and knees, but his body was actually resting on the stone slab that served a bed. He looked at his hands and arms and even his legs they were bruised and there were still terrible gashes in them, they ached fiercely, but it was not the same excruciating pain of having both limbs broken and pulled from their sockets. He was breathless. Thor gritted his teeth. His eyes saw red. "W-w-what...are you doing here?" the prince growled he was barely able to catch his breath. "W-w-what...are...are...y-you...d-doing here" the prince continued to stammer. He shook his head and blinked rapidly as he tried to get his bearings. He tried to make sure that the person he was seeing was actually Loki and not some mirage.

Loki walked around Thor. He kept his arms folded across the chest as he surveyed the other man. Loki snorted and tossed his head back. "Is that all the greeting that I receive?" The new king of Asgard asked back. He wagged his slim, porcelain finger in Thor's face. Loki's bright green eyes impishly rolled upward, "And here I thought that you'd be happy to see."

Fire flickered in Thor's sea-blue eyes. His mighty fist balled up and he slammed against the wall.
"Happy to see you?" Thor scoffed and his head started rocking miserably back and forth. "Happy to see you," Thor's voice came out as an angry grumble. "HAPPY TO SEE YOU!" The crown prince of Asgard finally exploded. His deep voice rumbled in the cell and it seemed to shake the very foundation of the walls. Loki looked around excited as he saw Thor's ire was hot and kindled. He snorted eagerly through his nose with the prospect of Thor bringing the house down. "How dare you show your face here!" Thor yelled. "How...how...how dare you," he gasped. "I could kill you, Loki...I could simply kill you," Thor raised his hands up in the air and aimed them as if they were poised to ring Loki's scrawny, white neck. "I COULD KILL YOU!" Thor's deep baritone voice ripped from his throat raw and guttural his eyes were filled with fire and lightning and tears. He no longer had the power to summon the lightning, but the tears fell unabashedly.

King Loki continued to snicker, but he still stood his ground. "Oh Thor," he hummed. "I'd love to see you try," he remarked coldly as his silver tongue flickered out of his mouth and across his dry lips.

"Get out," Thor ground out. "Get out!" he commanded. "GET OUT!" he yelled. Loki didn't budge an inch. "Get out of my sight if you know what's good for you," the blonde-haired son of Odin spoke in a low and dark tone.

The new king of Asgard tossed his head over his shoulder winked his emerald eye and laughed. "Or you'll what?" Loki tested as he leaned over into Thor's dirty face. Thor's teeth were beared like a rabid dog's , his face was beet red beneath the grime and dirt that caked his features. He was shaking uncontrollably. "Leave this cell?" Loki offered," as he gestured around the small quarter. "Rain down the power of the elements upon my head?" He inquired once more as he raised his inky brows. Thor didn't answer. His shoulders were heaving with ragged breath. A vicious growl came from deep with in him, but Loki continued to stare at him unrelenting. He was ever calculating, cold and calloused. His jade eyes glowed as they always did when he was up to mischeif. Thor took a sharp breath, he put his hand out by his side and put his hand out ready to reach for Mjolnir and wield a devastating blow toward the cackling fiend before him. Then Thor realized once again that he had lost the power of the hammer. He stared down with horror as his impotent hands. His shoulders slumped as his head fell. Loki let out a blast of mocking laughter. "Precisely," Loki continued to chuckle. "You are a dog with no bite now, a bull with no horns. You are no threat to me Odinson," the dark-haired enchanter spat. Thor didn't respond, he just kept staring down at his hands. Worthless hands. These hands that had been trained for war at the tenderest of ages. These hands that had carried blade and axe and sword and spear and lance into battle. These hands that had wrestled bilgeschnipes and hydras. These hands that had had the honor of carrying one of the most powerful relics in all the cosmos and now that was all for naught. For now, in the moment of truth, when it really counted and mattered the most these hands had proven useless. Prince Thor cursed himself. They looked like such big, strong hands.

Loki moved away, he pushed back on his heels. He swaggered over to the other side of the cell. "Honestly, Thor I just had this strange feeling that you would be simply elated to see me," He feigned injury at the golden-locked prince's response and pointed to himself and batted his long, dark lashes. He shook his head. "And after all I've done for you?" He clicked his tongue. "Tisk...tisk...tisk...tisk" he said as he wagged his head and paced about with his arms folded behind his back.

Thor's blood boiled. His head snapped up, his eyes flung open. He started to kick about and he began to sit up. "What you have done for me!" he growled in a low throaty voice. "WHAT YOU HAVE DONE FOR ME!" Thor yelled at the top of his lungs. He lunged toward Loki. He practically leaped on top of the other man, but instead because of his heavy binds he fell flat on his face and back into the mud. Loki simply side stepped Thor's efforts. The splatter from the mud just barely sullying his boots.

Loki gave a mocking laugh as he watched the son of Odin flop about in the mud. He stooped down and raised Thor's head out of the dirty and nudged his chin up to an uncomfortable angle. "You are certainly spry for someone beaten within an inch of his life," Loki remarked. He turned his head curiously trying to make his emerald eyes meet Thor's own sapphire orbs, but the son of Odin kept twisting his head away and avoiding eye contact. Loki snorted. He raised his nose and humphed, "Some would say I've healed," Loki pointed out as he waved his hand gesturing toward Thor.

The blonde haired son of Odin twisted his chin out of Loki's clasp. "You've done nothing for me!" he ground out between his clenched teeth. His eyes were a searing hot red. "You've done everything in your power to kill me," he choked out. "And destroy everything," Thor continued.

Loki flagged him off, "Nonsense, Thor," He replied boredly. "If I wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead," he expressed.

"So, have you come here to kill me?" He asked as he panted. His arms shook as he tried to hold himself up right and keep himself from falling back into the mud and thatch.

Loki shook his head, an easy and relaxed grin on his face. "Here, I have simply come with glad tidings to offer you dinner," the black-haired monarch insisted. He shrugged and waved his hand round about in the air and instantly a platter of scrumptuous looking food appeared in his hands. Thor squinted as he beheld the meal. It was a piping hot meal of succulent pheasant, ripen greens, crisp turnips, fresh baked rolls lathered in slabs of honey butter.

The sweet aromas perforated the dank cell. They wafted into his nostrils and toyed with his senses. Thor leaned in to the hot warm scent, his mouth started to water. he felt his stomach start to churn and bubble. It was amazing how feeble the body could be. There was a time when he considered his body his greatest strength. His physical prowess had been unparalleled by any in Asgard. His physique was proud and strong and the epitome of Asgardian masculinity. He had very rarely felt weakness or fatigue in battle. There had been times when he'd taken on the unprecedented strength of a Berserker and he had been able to last in battle for days without meat, drink or rest. But now all of his body had turned against him. He felt nothing, but an overwhelming wave of tiredness, he was sore and hurting and hungry, he was oh so hungry. The food looked real, smelled real it smelled very real and very good. He could feel more and more saliva forming in his mouth, his stomach continued to rumble and his fingers were growing twitchy. His body longed for food. It had been days since he'd last eaten. He reminded himself that he didn't deserve food that he had let them down, that he'd let his family down and his friends down and all his subjects down. They were hungry and broken and cowering somewhere. What did they have to eat as they hid out in the holes and hollows underneath the Imperial City. They had nothing and so he deserved nothing. He didn't want to eat. He didn't deserve to eat, but his stomach craved food and his hand was ever inching its way desperate to reach out and touch and take hold of one of those delicious buttered roles. he wanted but a bite, but a morsel. He pressed his thick lips together, he tucked his fingers back in doing everything he could to refrain, but the smell kept calling him. He reminded himself that Loki was a master of illusions. That the mage had the power to do many things conjure many things and that didn't mean that it was real, but it sure did, smell and look real.

Noticing the prince's hesitation the king of Asgard picked up one of the soft, honey buttered, barely loaves. He waved it in front of his own pointed nose before he brought it back in front of Thor's. A sick smirk was still riding on his severe pink lips as he noted Prince Thor leaning into the tantalizing, buttery aroma. Just as reflexively, Thor's cracked and dirty lips started to quiver with longing for the bread, he yanked it away and brought it to his mouth and took a long, hard bite. Thor's mouth dangled open. "Mmm," Loki hummed. "So good," The king purred with his mouth full of bread. He took painstakingly slow and deliberate chews. He savored every morsel. "Hot from the oven," he explained. "Sure you don't want a taste?" The slick trickster taunted as he licked his lips.

"Have...have... have you come to finish the job Loki and kil me with this poison?' Thor managed to ask.

Loki chuckled heartlessly., "Oh don't you worry, Thor... you will die," he nodded. He rose to his full height so that his thin form seemed to tower over Thor. "All in good time," he stated. His voice was low. He started to march about. He rubbed his hands together and his eyes darted about. "...never you fear," Loki admitted and rubbed his hands together.

"Why not just get it over with?" Thor asked his eyes starting to roll in the back of his head. He was huffing and puffing. Though Loki had temporarily staved off the worst of the injuries he hadn't cured much of what had already occurred. "Why...why...why not j-j-just get it over with?" he asked breathlessly.

Loki shrugged, still he smirked. "There's really no need to rush," Loki confessed. "Your fate will be sealed soon enough."

"Why not do it now?" the blonde-haired son of Odin rasped. "T-t-to...m-m-much of a coward?' Thor spat furiously.

Loki turned around and glared viciously at the bedraggled prisoner who still sat on his knees in the mud. "Oh hardly," the raven-haired self-proclaimed monarch shot back. "But you know what they say," he went on..."all good things to those who wait," he winked.

Thor's breathing grew ragged. He shook. His lips quivered. He looked up at Loki with complete bewilderment. His eyes were wet. "Is that what my death is to you?' Thor's normally loud voice was a barely audible whisper. Loki opened his mouth and started to respond. His lips were poised to fire back a cruel statement, but Thor kept going. "Is that what all this is to you...all this death and destruction...that's a good thing to you?"

"The best!" Loki hurled back. His eyes wide and wild and glassy and crazed grin on his face.

"The best? THE BEST?" Thor yelled. "The destruction of our realm, the destruction of all realms...the end of all that we ever knew is the best to you?" Thor yelled.

"Oh yes. Yes! Yes!" Loki cried rabidly. "This is the moment that I've been waiting got for a long time, Thor. I've dreamt of this day for a long...long...long time," he said as he rolled his tongue over his lips.

"Then why are you here? What do you want? Why did you come?" Thor demanded.

Loki pursed his lips, then he smirked. "Now, come, come, com," Loki went on. "As king of Asgard it is my duty to uphold all of our most time honored traditions. It has always been one of our traditions to give a prisoner his last meal before his," Loki paused sick, slimy grin still plastered across his pale face. Then Loki slowly moved his finger across the center of his neck. "Honestly, I don't see why you won't eat it. I can gaurantee you it is better than the slop that was doled out to me during my pleasant stay here," Loki sneered as his gestured to the bleak accommodations.

Thor shook his head. Muddy strands of hair slapped him in the face. "You're no king, Loki," he ground out.

Loki threw his head back and laughed, "Ha-ha-ha" he bent down and leaned over into Thor's face. "Wrong!" he blasted. "You're no king, Thor!" he pointed at the bound man. "And you have never been!" He shot back. "Even when you had everything, even when you had everyone cheering for you, rooting for you, believing in you...you still weren't a king. You still weren't the king that Odin wanted you to be," Loki started laughing hysterically. "You were brash, reckless, hotheaded and stupid," he spat. "And you still are," he mocked. Thor frowned the weight of Loki's word sunk in on him. "You still are," Loki kept right on chuckling. "I'll admit that that low boiling point of yours has simmered down a bit," he shook his hand and cocked his head to the side. "But you still aren't the king for Asgard. Your just a gullible and naive pawn a carefully installed gambit, a piece in the puzzle," Loki explained coldly as he tapped Thor on the cheek.

Thor grimaced as Loki's cold fingers made contact with his cheeks. "And you're a king?" Prince Thor questioned as he fought to hold back the tears in his eyes. "You're a king?" Thor's strong voice finally broke. "What kind of king are you!?' Thor hollered. His voice was shaking. "A king is supposed to protect his people! A king is suppose to save his people, but what...what...what have you done?" Thor inquired. Thor dropped his head back down. His voice was simply a whisper. "You've destroyed your people...you've destroyed Asgard! DESTROYED HER!" Thor screamed. He grabbed his face. "Asgard lies in ruin!" he threw out a hand. "There's blood in the streets, there's blood in the water. Everything is covered in ash and Dark Aether dust, like freshly fallen snow, clouds of dark matter hang low and suffocate all life," Thor declared. He mashed his teeth into his lips. "PEOPLE ARE DEAD!" Prince Thor hollered. "Good people, innocent people, brave people...children are all dead because of you," Thor let the words tear and ripple off of his busted lips. He raised a shaky finger and pointed at Loki. "And you have the nerve to call yourself a king," Now the son of Odin was the one left chuckling, but his laughter was harsh and bitter and borderline a sob. "But you're no king," Thor repeated.

The golden helmeted black-haired enchanter stood over Thor with his chest and shoulders heaving. His whole body shook, his eyes were glassy and wild. "You're right! You're right! You're right!" Loki fired back. Saliva formed in his mouth. His shiny teeth gleamed. He bobbed his head madly and emphatically. "So go on! Go on!" He pressured and coaxed. "Go on and say it! Say it! Say it! SAY IT!" He demanded at the top of his lungs. "Tell me what I am!" he panted. "Tell me what I am, Thor. Call me by my name," he cajoled. "TELL ME!" He hollered he felt as if he would pop a blood vessel.

"You're a monster!" The thunderer roared back.

"Yes, yes I am," Loki acknowledged with a nod. He twisted sharply on his heels and turned around and faced the opposite wall. He straightened the collar of his tunics and slowly cracked his knuckles. He exhaled deeply, doing everything he could to keep his cool. "I bet it feels good for you to finally say it though," Loki offered, his eyebrow arched.

"What are you talking about?" Thor asked weakly from his knees.

Furiously, Loki spun back around. "You know exactly what I'm talking about?" He barked. Thor stared all him dully. He scratched at his bloodied beard. Asgard's new ruler's breath quickened, his nostril's flared, but then almost instantly his tempered cooled and he began speaking with regal refinement. "Even a simpleton like you, must have thought something, about you found of the truth of my parentage," He inquired.

Thor started coughing, "Is that what this is about? Is that what you truly think?" he croaked. He continued choking and coughing and finally he was compelled to take a small sip of what from the glass that Loki had provided with his last meal. He looked at the cup, the water seemed cold and clean and he was so hot and thirsty. His tongue was dry as a desert. Even if Loki had poisoned it, what did it matter he'd be dead soon anyway. Greedily he guzzled every last drop. It ran down his throat and quenched his terrible thirst. The access dribbled down his chin and beard and washed away some of the mud and grime. He was breathless when he finally stopped drinking. He was famished, but the liquid renewed just an ounce of his strength. It gave him the power to speak clearer and stronger and in a less gravelly tone. "I never care," he confessed as he struggled to bring the back of his bound arm to swipe against his wet lips.

King Loki rolled his eyes. he growled. "Oh cut the charades Thor! There's no need to lie or pretend anymore. It's just me and you now," He began as he stalked around the shackled man. "There's no mother to save face for, no council to impress, no friends to seem virtuous for," his silver tongue lashed. "Just me and you," he whispered slyly. "Why not unburden your soul, make your last confession truthful, make it count before you die," he taunted. "You know that you cared," he stated as he leaned over in Thor's face.

"I never cared," Prince Thor repeated. His voice strong as he looked Loki in his wild jade eyes. A shudder ran down Thor's spine as he looked into Loki's eyes. He didn't know who he was when he stared at him.

LOki's fist clenched, his teeth ground together. "You care! You have to care! How could you not care? It's only natural to care!" Loki fumed he paced about in a circle throwing his hands up in the air.

"No, Loki" Thor shot back. His voice crisp as the sound of the crack of lightning splitting the sky. "You care!"

"Of course, I cared," Loki continued to rage. His porcelain face growing red with fury. He was screaming. "How could I not care? My whole life I felt like an outsider in Asgard and I was supposed to be her prince. I was supposed to celebrated, loved, adored and worshipped by the Aesir..." He went on waving his hands.

"You were!" Thor retorted.

"No. You were." Loki expressed. The head crowned with a golden-horned helmet shook. "You had all the praise, all the glory, all the accolades from the earliest moments of our lives. You were allowed to bask in the sun, I was made to cower in the shadows," the black-haired mage explained.

"That's not true, Loki."

"Isn't it, though? All my life I was compared to you. I wondered why I couldn't be more like my beloved big brother. Why I wasn't a strong as him, why I wasn't as good at battle at him, why I couldn't even make friends as easily as him, why we didn't even look alike?" Loki started manically cackling. He doubled over with side-splitting hilarity. He slapped his knee. Then raise his gaze and wagged his finger in Thor's face. "But little did I know..." He started recklessly guffawing once more. "That the reason...the reason...I was so different from my brother," he was so breathless from his laughter that he could scarcely speak. "Was because... because we...we weren't even brother," he howled as his thin finger pointed betwixt the two of them. "And...and...and...and," he went on stammering in his riot. "And the reason why I was the complete opposite of everything that a good Aesir was supposed to be...was because...I wasn't even an Aesir," Loki was laughing so hard and so long that his whole face was flushing like a beet. "I could have been Vanir or Nornish or even and Elf, but no...no...no...that would never do... I was born a Frost Giant...the very antithesist of every thing I was raised to be," he roared.

While Loki had been cackling like a madman, Thor had simply managed to climb to his feet. His legs were weak and hurting and he knew that staying upright would be nigh impossible, but he wanted to at least rest upon the stone slab that he had as a cot. Then he turned his attention from the cot to looking at Loki. Despite seeing the emerald eyed enchanter arrayed in all his regalia he couldn't remember a time when he'd seen the man he'd once called his brother look worse. Thor tried to reach out a hand to take hold of Loki's shoulder. It was hard for him to even move his hand from his side with the heavy iron bonds holding him down. Loki darted just out of dodge of Thor's hand. The prince of Asgard grabbed his stomach, His innards were still bruised and damaged. Thor started to take a step, but soon he found his knees weakening, his legs buckled and he once again had collapsed back into the mud. He hit the sludge with a slap and a splat. Loki cast a scrutinizing and cruel eye toward the son of Odin. "Oh please, Thor don't get up on my account," he teased, pointed and laughed harder at the fallen thunder-bearer.

Prince Thor huffed and puffed out labored breaths as he pulled his face out of the slime. "I was sorry," Thor muttered.

"What? Come again?" Loki put his hand to his ear. "I can hardly hear you."

"I was sorry," the prince mumbled once more. "When mother and father told me what you were...I didn't believe them at first...I din't know what to make of it...but when I came to grips with it, I just felt sorry. I felt sorry that you lived hearing all those stories about the fighting between the Aesir and the Jotuns and that you had to grow up with. I felt sorry for the fact that I made you play Laufey when we were kids," Thor uttered, his voice still low and weak.

Loki's nose curled as he sneered. "Oh please," his green eyes rolled back. "I seem to recall quite clearly your thoughts on such a matter, 'when I'm king, I'll hunt the monsters and slay them all, just like you did, father," Loki mocked his voice an exact replica of Thor's tone as a lad. "Must have been such a disappointment to know that you had one living under the same roof as you all those centuries that you never got to slay," he shrugged.

The blonde-haired prince shook his head, "You're wrong!" Thor shot back. "I felt awful for the things I said to you then even if they were in jest. I can't imagine what that did to you..." Thor started.

"No, you can't," Loki rumbled his expression was quite dark.

"I was sick with guilt," Thor continued to express with his head bowed. "When I thought that you were dead, I thought of everything that I did that could have done that could have led you to thinking that your life wasn't worth living," he exhaled, his heavy shoulders sagged deeply. Thor nodded to himself and mashed his lips together. "I realized that perhaps I did more to cause you pain than I ever realized. I was full of regret. I never wanted to hurt you. You were my brother and I loved you, Loki... I loved you so much," Thor's voice became watery. "You were my best friend, the person I cared about the most and I felt like I destroyed you...I felt like I couldn't live with that."

"Oh, Thor you don't give yourself enough credit, you seemed to have lived on just fine while I was gone," Loki remarked out the side of his mouth. "Obviously, your guilt was short lived."

"I mourned you! I mourned you night and day...so did mother and father, but we thought... we thought...that you would have wanted us to go on living...I" Thor could feel terrible hot tears pricking against the back of his sea blue eyes. "But that doesn't make up for what you've done, Loki," Thor growled. The tears fell from his eyes they were hot, angry tears. "what-you've done," the thunderer's deep voice cracked. "LOOK AT WHAT YOU HAVE DONE!" The blast was so loud that Loki took a few steps back. He soon found his back to the wall and the very wall shook and all the while the green-clad fiend smiled with delight. Thor's fists were raised as if he was set to fling Mjolnir at Loki's head that very moment. Then he looked at his hands they were shaking as if he could cause an earthquake, but he knew he no longer possessed such powers, he didn't even have the hammer any longer. He allowed his hands to fall back at his side. He sat them in his lap like a humbled child. His body still bent. "What you've done..." He shook his head from side to side. His voice quivering. "And if it would have just been against me," Prince Thor elaborated. "If it would have just been against father...even then..." The crown prince's voice trailed off. "I...I...I...I could have forgiven you," he confessed, he looked down at his hands they were absolutely filthy. But the dirt was nothing in comparison to the blood on his hands. "I...I...could have," he whispered and Thor no longer knew if he was even talking to the new ruler of his realm. He licked his lips. He set his face and looked up. He glared at Loki, he wanted to make sure he heard every word. "But what you have done to Asgard...to the Aesir people... to all the peoples of the realms, I'll never forgive you for this Loki never!" He railed.

Loki finally pushed himself off all the wall and stomped forward toward Thor. The way he stood in front of Thor, the son of Odin could only stare at his knees. "Well at least the unforgiveness that you bear toward me, dear Thor will be short lived," he gave him a wink. "Honestly, Thor, I can't see why you are so surprised by all this. It was written in the star," Loki wiggled his fingers mystically in the air "Destiny foretold," he said in an eerie whisper. "It's just our fate... manifest destiny, it was etched in our blood. Thor, Son of Odin" he pointed toward the kneeling man before. "Loki, Son of Laufey" then gestured to himself. "Child of Asgard, Child of Jotunheim born to be enemies," he smiled sickly. "Destined to be rivals," He rubbed his silver-tongue across his straight white teeth, "I'm just finishing what my father started... carrying out the purpose of my people and brining destruction itself to Asgard's gate," he started cackling

"How can you talk like this? Like you didnt live here your whole life, like this isn't where you were raised and made who you were? How could you do this to the people of Asgard Loki? How?" Thor demanded. "They have nothing to do with this. This was between me and you..."

"They had everything to do with it!" The king of Asgard shot back. "Each and every person in Asgard is a part of the elaborate lie that I had been fed my whole life," he spat.

"No, Loki... that's not true. What about the farmers and millers and fishermen and their wives and children who live far away from the Imperial City, the babies...they were apart of the lie of your life? The orphans and poor..." He continued.

"yes, because even they made me feel inferior to you," He pointed at Thor's head. "But in due time they will see," he went on giddily. They'll see you for the weakling that you are!" Loki spat and he made sure to come over and kick Thor straight in the gut. The blonde-haired son of Odin gasped and doubled over. He was gasping and panting and he fell on his side. His eyes welling up and his damaged insides felt like they would burst from further damage. Thor grunted and groaned rubbing his injured stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He bit his lips trying to keep from screaming, but the moans he emitted with so loud he was practically crying through his teeth. The king stepped forward once again and surveyed the prisoners pitiful state and then put the toe of his boot to Thor's shoulder and nudged him over so that he was gasping for air from his back. Prince Thor managed to open his eyes and he only saw Loki's twisted face cackling. "Ahh, you're the worse kind of weakling Thor, you are weak of mind," He shook his head. " if you weren't such a fool maybe this could have been prevented," he added. "No matter," the tall, lean king shrugged. "I suppose your weakness works in my favor. Now the people of Asgard and all the realms will see you for what you are and they'll see me for what I am," Loki proclaimed as he opened his arms wide read to receive their applause. "They'll watch as I defeat you and you are simply forced to stare up at me from the flat of your back," he pointed out. "Kind of like now," he laughed loudly. "They'll see you falling before me and begging me to spare your miserable, wretched life."

Through clenched teeth, Thor offered a rebuttle. "I w-w-won't beg you, Loki," he whispered.

"Oh?" Loki arched his black brows, "What about the great motto of the valiant Prince Thor?" Loki gave pause. He squared his shoulders and sucked in enough air to make his chest broaden with the breath. He stuck his pointed chin in the air and put his hands on his hips. "I have no plans to die today," Loki mocked.

Thor struggled for breath, his chest heaving, his throat throbbing. "I'd...I'd...I'd...I'd rather die...than see you bring Ragnorok to pass..." he panted.

A smirk was coolly held on thin lips. A white hand's knuckles were simply dusted along the collar of the king's surcoat, "Don't worry, you will," he admitted.

Shakily, Prince Thor managed to roll on his belly, his trembling arms pushed him to an upright position. He started to crawl and he halfway expected to feel Loki's boot once again coming down upon him and crushing his spine. He was amazed as he was allowed to scuttle like a bug through the mud. He managed to reach the stone slab that he had as a resting cot. His crusted and unsteady hand reached up to try to pull himself from the muck and the mire, but he was sapped of even that much strength. He only was able to slump against the stone-slab. His head lulled back and rested against the cold, wet, slime covered stone. His gorgeous, sapphire blue eyes were hardly able to open, still the crown prince of the golden realm fought to speak. "And what of the other realms? What of Alfheim and Vanaheim? What of their civilians? Were they also apart of the lies of your life?" Thor questioned relentlessly.

The dark-haired mage smirked, "had you let me conquer Midgard, perhaps this all could have been avoided," he crossed his arms over his chest. "But you and your little playmates couldn't even let me have that, but I was born and raised to rule Thor same as you... and I'd not be denied what was mine forever," He expressed with serpentine grin. "I will not be kept from a throne any longer. Not any longer, Thor, you here!" Loki pointed out accusingly. He walked back and forth before the prisoner. He wore a path through the thatch floor. Loki worried his hands. He wrung them like a wet rag. The heat fluttered across his body once more. He was starting to perspire all over. His breathing grew hitched and ragged.

Thor's eyes flung open wild. He was full of vehemence. The rage which boiled deep inside after hearing his brother's words only fueled him with enough energy to push himself up to sit upon the stone slab. His shoulders were violently tossed up and down. His thick bronzed hands were balled up into tight fist in between his massive knees. "A throne...a throne...a throne...a throne," Thor muttered while wagging his head. " A throne!" Thor thundered. "Is that all that matters to you?" His eyes were wide with lightning flickering and flaring in the stormy irises.

"It's all that ever mattered to you!" King Loki flippantly tossed back.

"That never mattered to me," Thor protested.

"All our lives we were told we were born to be kings. All our lives we were groomed and prepared to ascend to the throne, but Asgard only has one throne. And all our lives you planned to sit upon it. And what was left for me to sit on, huh? What was left for me?" Loki questioned rabidly as he pointed to himself. His green eyes darting here and there " frantically. "To sit at your feet? Sit on your footstool? And I was supposed to be satisfied with that? I was supposed to relish and love that kiss your feet for that, huh...That's what you thought...that's what Odin thought... that's what everyone thought," Loki stalked about kicking up straw and pulling at his clothes. "Well you all thought wrong! No one thought of me as worthy for the throne... Not Laufey, not Odin...but I have the throne now... and there is no one to take it from me now," Loki threw his head back and his voice cracked and creaked with fiendish chuckles.

Thor slammed his fist against the wall. The leaks from the ceiling were rocked so much that the water ran down and for a moment there was a torrential down pour. Both men drenched as water, green mortar, and balk pitch dripped and dropped from the busted roof. "Damn it, Loki!" Thor rumbled. "I never cared about the throne that much."

"You lie," The silver-tongued trickster accused.

"Yes, yes... I wanted to be king... but not that bad... Not in this ruthless way. I never wanted the throne at the cost of us. I WOULD HAVE JUST GIVEN YOU THRONE!" He hollered. Loki's eyes were wide. His mouth hung open. Thor's words were like a blow to the head. The kind that comes from the back and takes the poor victim by surprise and leaves them stumbling and seeing stars twinkling before their eyes. He wanted to put his hands over his hears and yell back at Thor to stop lying. He told himself it was a lie and a trick that Thor was willing to say anything... anything he could think of to get him to stop from bringing forth Ragnorok. There was no way Thor would have ever abdicated the throne. It was all the blonde oaf ever talked abot or thoughts about, he reminded himself. but the desperation in the cry revealed it all. For a moment the pair stood neither truly looking at the other. The only sound in the dirty cell was the sound of the two labored breaths. It was Prince Thor who was first to break the silence. "I would have given you the throne," he said in a deep muffled tone.

Loki rose up. He stood proud and erect. he seemed to coil like some type of viper. He sprang into attack mode and spat venom and fire at the crown prince of Asgard. "I don't need you to give me anything, Thor!" his silver-tongue was like a sharpened blade cutting and digging and trying to drawn as much blood as possible. "What would that mean for me if you gave me the throne?" he inquired. "You'd still have been the hero. Charitable, kindly Thor who took pit on his poor younger brother who cried and begged for the throne," he snorted.

Thor shook his head "And what else is it that you have done. You've just thrown a tantrum to get what you want," he spat.

"No, No, no, no, Thor," Loki corrected as he took quick steps so once again he and Thor were, but inches apart. He wiggled a long finger in his face. Then he roughly gripped Thor by his muddy cheeks. He squeezed Thor's face between his fingers and thumbs. Prince Thor winced and strained as he felt sharp, claw-like nails dig into his jawline. He leaned into Thor's face with a wild and insane grin plasterd across his face like a cheshire cat. "I have thrown a tantrum to get what I want," He explained. "I've taken what I've wanted," he expressed each word enunciated precisely "By force," he cruelly muttered in Thor's hearing. He dragged his talons down the side of Thor's face making sure to leave bright red welts on Thor's face. "I've taken what was rightfully mine. No one handed it to me. Just like I've had to take hold of everything that I ever had," he expressed as he continued to march about. "Yes, Thor, just let it sink in," he taunted. "I've taken the kingdom from Odin and I've taken the kingdom from you and I've taken the Nine realms ffor myself," he proclaimed and pounded on his chest.

"You'll never get away with this Loki, someone will stop you." Thor protested. "Your evil won't be allowed to flourish. Someone, somewhere, somehow...they'll stop you."

The horns on Loki's helmet were thrust backward as Loki burst into fits of laughter. "Oh, I don't think so, Thor..." the new king of Asgard replied, he dusted his sweaty palms and they made a wet slapping noises as he did so. "Look around!" he proclaimed and stretched his arms out wide. "How could the stop me?" Loki questioned ruthlessly. "Convergence is but hours away," He pointed out.

The crown prince looked down. "You won't get away with this, Loki...there's some who can stop you... there's always someone," the poor prisoner muttered.

Loki simply shook his head and the look that he gave to the dirty, blonde royal was nearly a look of pity. "Let us weigh the odds, shall we?" the young wizard began. His calculations were always precise. "Only Gungnir and Mjolnir are strong enough to defeat the Aether and one of them can only be wielded by you," Loki stretched his finger toward Thor. Then Loki clapped his hands with childish giddy and inane hilarity. "A luckily for you," he began with a twisted smile riding high on his slim little lips, "you sacrificed your powers for the next 48 hrs which will take us just until after Convergence," the green-eyed mage winked.

Prince THor gripped at the sides of the stone slab where he sat. His massive, grimy hands crushed the rock that made up the sleeping cot. He growled and rumbled. His throaty roar was quite loud and it only made Loki's grin grow all the wider. "Try to scream," he prompted. He beckoned Thor to speak with his hands like one calling a little child to himself. He slowly raised his hand to his ear. THor didn't make a peep. "No one can hear you," the dark haired man stated flatly. "In fact, there's no one even around to hear you," he chuckled. "The palace is practically teaming with Dark-Elf soldiers and unfortunately for you, dear prince the forces of Asgard are far too scattered and far too weak to take on the Dark-Elves now," He shrugged and meandered over to the other side of the cell. He raised his pale hands and scraped the wall of slime and mortar. He played with it for a moment with the black goo in his hands. He squished and squashed the tiny bit grime between his fingers. "I'm sure not even your boon companions could help you now," Loki whispered. he inhaled and breathed in the terrible stench of the cell and Thor's body.

Thor's eyes welled up with unshed tears. Look what Loki had done to him. He couldn't imagine the pain and anguish that the Aether's effects even in that small scale had done to the warriors of Asgard. Even his closest friends, the Warriors Three and Lady Sif...they couldn't take on an entire battalion of Dark-Elves alone. He wondered how they were fairing. Were they stretched out lying in puddles of blood, bleeding throughout the city? Were their limbs still in tact? What were their thoughts and feelings about him right now? Maybe they hated him now as much as they hated Loki. Honestly, if they did he couldn't blame them. He was just as responsible as Loki was for the horrors that the universe was about to face and maybe he was even moreso responsible because he had the opportunity to stop it all along, but he'd let sentiment get in the way. Thor cursed himself inwardly. Maybe Loki had been right in all those times that he told him that sentiment was weakness. He could almost hear Sif screaming in his ear, telling him that he'd been a dunder-head and that she had warned him and warned him not to trust Loki and he'd never listened to her and now look where it had led them. It was leading them all to death. And he would have gladly welcomed her criticism because she was a hundred percent right. He thought of the families of his dear friends, Volstagg had a wife and children were they alive? Had he found them dead and collapsed in their city villa, were they buried alive under the mounds of rubble and Aether ash? Lady Sif was not particularly close with her older brother, Leif, but she had always cared for her nieces and nephews, what of them were they well? What of Frandal's numerous girlfriends, he wondered if his swashbuckling friend had got to render goodbye kisses unto them. He thought of Hogun's elderly aunts. They were old ladies and had lived through much, they were truly the only family that the warrior had. Although, Hogun was quiet and didn't express a great deal of emotion often, he knew that his friend loved the old women who had raised him. He would be absolutely devastated to learn of their demise.

The prince's mind continued to race. He thought not only of his beloved friends on Asgard, but he had many friends across the Nine Realms, many were other nobles and royals, but others were simple serfs and peasants who had been of great help to Thor in his travels and wanderings and quests for adventures in his youth. He thought of his mortal friends, Eric and Darcy, The Avengers. He hadn't known them long, but they were now all brother's in arms and there was no bond more sacred than that. They were all brave and strong and powerful, maybe they could have helped. Maybe they could have fought along his side, maybe together they could have defeated Loki, after all they had all done it together once, but it was too late to know such things now. He had no way of reaching them. he had no way of calling to them for help and they had no way of knowing what was about to befall them. It wasn't right! They shouldn't have to die like this. Fighters should die fighting, not from sneak attacks that blindsided them. He knew that Mortal lives were short lived, but they should have had the chance to live them to the fullest, they should have been able to grow old. He'd failed them. He'd failed each and everyone of them.

Lastly, he remembered Jane. Beautiful Jane. He hadn't gotten to hold her in his arms for one last time, he hand't gotten the opportunity to run his finger through her auburn hair again, strok her smooth cheek or feel the wonder of her rose petal and raspberry lips. He loved her and he wasn't even sure if he'd even told her so. He thought he had, but now he wasn't sure, if he had he knew he hadn't said it nearly enough. He wanted to have told her how much he loved her everyday for the rest of her life. He'd been so afraid of her short mortal life. He hated the thought of losing her, of having to go on without her when her time came. He'd thought that when he'd brought her to Asgard he'd be protecting her, he'd thought his efforts would prolong her life, make her well and give them more time together, but in the end he'd only brought her to death's door.

The burden of defeat hung on the son of Odin like a wet cloak, it smothered and suffocated him. He kept trying to think of some hope for the situation of some way that this could work out of some way that the fates of the world weren't sealed and that Ragnorok could be stopped, but alas he could not. There was no time left, there was no one left. No except, "Sigyn," Prince Thor mouthed through cracked lips.

Just as the name of the youngest daughter of Admiral Arn had entered his mind did a colder tone come wafting into his ears. "No one is coming to rescue you, Thor" Loki stated his back was still toward the man he had once called a brother. "...just like no one came to rescue me when I was in the Void, suffering at the hands of Thanos," the king of Asgard confessed, his voice was low and gravelly. He slammed his bright emerald eyes shut and squeezed his hand into a tight knuckled fist as he watched the mud from the wall that was on his hands leak through his fingers.

"We couldn't find you," Thor spoke up, but his tone was broken and watery.

Loki cocked his head to the side, but he kept his gaze at the wall, "As if you even tried."

"Father, sent out everyone, Vikings, Einherjar, Valkyrie, we didn't know where to look...we couldn't find you...we couldn't get to you," Thor confessed

"And what of you, Thor...did you look for me?" Loki inquired his slick voice was low and menacing.

"I..." Thor was breathless.

Loki inhaled sharply. "Come, come," the silver-tongued ruler started. "Thee are our last moments together, why lie?" He shrugged and then turned his head, nearly fully around like an owl and glared at Prince Thor with one evil, gleaming emerald eye.

Thor dropped his gaze. "I didn't go..."

"Ha!" the raven-haired enchanter responded.

Thor quickly raised his head. "I didn't go...because it was too painful for me. I lost you once...it broke my heart...I couldn't build you back up to hope you were a live and find you to be dead again...I wouldn't have survived...I...I...I wasn't strong enough then."
"Well, had you had the courage to look," Loki began boredly, he inspected his long fingernails and found a piece of crud embedded there. "you would have found...I was alive," Loki snapped. He finally flicked the crud out of his nails and toward Thor. "Even if just barely," he spat.

"I'm sorry," the great blonde prince of ASgard murmured.

"What was that?" Loki questioned. "Come again, brother dear," he prompted as he dug his little finger into his ear.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me," Thor apologized.

"Oh," the raven-haired enchanter put his finger to his lips, "You're sorry," he quickly pointed at Thor. "And what does your sorriness do for me?" the self-proclaimed king asked. 'It doesn't take away the months I spent as Thanos' guest," Loki explained as he put quotation fingers around the last word. "You have no idea how much suffering I endured Odinson," Loki spat.

"Maybe I would if you would have just told me," Thor argued, his voice raw.

"Oh would you have desired to know about the time I spent in the Void? You truly want to know?" Loki egged on. Prince Thor didn't answer verbally, but he held an unflinching gaze as he looked into LOki's green eyes. "Fine," the new ruler said quite snappily. His lips trembled with the words. "Well I suppose you do deserve to know...since you are about to die," he shrugged. "Why should you be spared any of the pain that I have been forced to live with?" he asked more to himself than to the other man in the room. He took a deep breath and than began to talk. He talked on and on and rattled off the gory details of what he'd experience in the realm of Thanos. "I living amongst those savages, the Chitauri, fighting like a dog for scraps. They were like animals, no pity and to take ones place at the top of a dog eat dog food chain one must become the same. I was left for endless days and nights to linger. chained to a gnarled tree, tortured by serpent who dripped venom like acid onto my flesh and I screamed and I writhed feeling as if my very skin was melting from my bones, wanting to die, but just barely hanging on with the hope that my family would come and find me. Or the weeks that I was strapped to that machine," Loki seemed to shudder as he recalled the motorized wheel and the different prods and rods that were strapped to his forehead and spine. "My own powers were not even within my control. I had someone play and manipulate my source of strength, digging into my mind, my body and my very soul, I could not sleep, I could not eat and when he was done with me I was blithering and delirious, but in all that they told me that I still called your name. Pathetically, I still believed that you would come for me..." Loki said as he snorted and spat to the ground before he took a few steps backward. "Thanos was delighted to see what a powerful mage I actually was. He had no problem toying with my powers and forcing me to cast endless and powerful enchantments. He used such raw and dark magic on me," Loki dropped his head and he started to laugh wildly and crazily. "I'd never felt such power," the king admitted. The trickster's eyes were wide, the shifted back and forth and Loki's teeth chattered. "But for all that he did even he had enough pity on me to not actually take my powers, unlike those that I had once called my family," Loki shrugged and then gave a wink.

Thor's busted, broken, cracked lips twisted miserably. "I...I...I" He stammered terribly. Thinking about the pain that that monster Thanos must have caused his brother was more than he could bear. His face crumbled. He knew that Loki had suffered, but there had been other people who had suffered as well, Loki wasn't the only man who had ever been tortured.

Thor's blue eyes closed. "But I did come back for you," Thor went on. "I came back for you!" Thor stated firmly. His fist flexed. "I came back!" he restated. "On Svartalfheim," he breathed. "Everyone said we should have left, I should have returned to Asgard...fought with our people. Sif, Volstagg, Frandal, Hogun...Jane" Thor said as he recalled the conversations, "They begged me to," he expressed. For a moment he was silent. He mashed his lips together, he could feel something inside him bubbling and boiling inside him. He could barely contain it. Finally, his eyes flew open, "But refuse." Thor ground out. "I refused to leave without you...I...I thought the Dark-Elves had captured you...I thought you were hurt...or...or dying," Thor shook his blonde locks.

"Another foolish move on your part," Loki remarked coldly.

"I thought of the fact that you had been left alone in the Void...and that you had called my name and I wasn't there for you," Prince Thor elaborated. He shook his head vigorously.

Loki's expression was so tranquil that it was emotionless. He patted his open mouth as he gave a wide yawn. The tyrannical monarch began to speak, "Too little, too late," he stated.

Thor's bloodshot eyeballs bulged out of his head. "I CAME BACK FOR YOU!" He screamed. He immediately flew from the stone slab. He lunged across the cell toward Loki. The crown prince let out a feral roar. He pounced on top of the king draped in royal emerald vestments. His mighty hands were set around Loki's neck as soon as they made contact with his flesh. He slammed him back against the lime covered wall. Loki gasped as the cold, rough stones made brutal contact with his spine. He felt Thor calloused fingers pressing deeper and deeper into his windpipe. His breath hitched and he wheezed. All the while he let out hyena –like twitter of a laugh. His grin was manic and crazed. His eyes gleaming like a madman. He breathed rapidly through his nostrils and his nostril flared to point of pain. Thor's whole face had turned such a deep crimson that it looked as if he had just had a fresh blood bath. His body shook from head to toe and it shook so vehemently that Loki could feel his own body starting to quiver. The veins in his neck, jaw, temple and forehead filled with hot, volcanic blood and looked as if they would erupt at any moment. Thor removed one of his hammer bearing hands form around Loki's slim neck, but he did not loosen his hold. With his newly freed hand he wound up his fist and punched the wall. His first flew right past Loki's cheek and grazed his nose. Thor groaned as his fist made contact with stone. he dented the wall. He felt the bones in his fingers crack and swell. He watched as Loki's jade eyes darted to stare at the freshly made dent by the furious fist. His heart pounded as his lips wiped across his slim lips.

"I... came... back... for... you," Thor repeated, he was barely able to speak he was so furious. His tongue felt hot and swollen and dry as if he'd eaten sand. The golden son's lips trembled. "I...t-thought...that you were dying," he went on. "I surrendered my powers" he said and finally, removed both his hands from the king's neck and pointed to himself. "I gave up my kingdom," he gestured all around him. "and the fate of the Nine Realms to save your life!" the proclaimed as he pointed to the cackling tyrant. The blonde's eyes were filled with water. Thor allowed both of his massive hands to rest against the filthy wall. Loki's head was still leaned against the wall and he wore a comfortable smirk on his lips as he heard Thor's anguish. The crown prince of Asgard tried to catch his breath. Despite Loki's ministrations his wounds were severe and Loki's workings had only kept him from getting worse, but it did little to patch the wounds within. Thor groaned as a wave of nausea hit him. He felt lightheaded. His cranium pounded like he'd been pummeled with a sledgehammer. With a deep swallow Thor spoke up once more. "I gave up Mjolnir for you!" he proclaimed. His hands forcefully wrapped around Loki's thin, armor coated shoulders. He gave Loki a firm shake. His slim frame rattled and Thor Thought that he would shake Loki so hard that addle his brain and drive him senseless and honestly, he didn't know if he'd regret doing so. But Loki's brain was already scrambled and he already was outside of his mind. He kept listening of Loki hoot and holler and roar and cackle like a maniac. He looked into those frenzied green eyes. They were wild and the pupils were dilated, the rims were laced with strange gold trim, they were cold and distant. His laugh was hollow and eerie, madcapped, his grin sickening and full of malice. He didn't see any traces of the intelligent young man who he once knew. A man who was shrewd and diplomatic, charming and funny, mischievous, but not cruel. He was gone and o beat him and tell him to wake up from this nightmare, but with every terrible cackle that flew from Loki's cracked lips he realized it was a lost cause. Loki was a lost cause and soon Asgard would be too.

The prince's head throbbed. Finally, even the dirty wall seemed desirable as a place to rest his head. He leaned closer and closer toward Loki's face. His eyes rolled back into his head and finally he rested his warm, sweaty forehead against the slime-slick stones of the wall. Loki's maniacal laugh ground against his ear only further exacerbating his terrible headache.

While laughing, Loki slipped under Thor's massive biceps. Thor's arms trembled as he struggled to support himself against the wall. He let his hands slip down by his side. They dangled there limply like dead weights. "And I gave up any hope we may have had at stopping Ragnorok..." he went on the thunderer's voice grew softer and softer with each word as if he was about to drift into a deep sleep. "Why? Why? Why?" he asked more to himself that to Loki. He didn't even bother to turn around and look at the black-haired fiend. He continued to face to wall. He shook his head against the stones. He didn't even feel he hand the strength to turn to face Loki again, nor did he want to see the chiseled face of that monster. Thor grabbed his face. He covered it with his big, bulky, battle-tested hands. When he pulled his hands away his face wet. "B-Because you were my brother and I wanted to protect you, I wanted to save you... I wanted to show you that I still believed in you..." Thor answered himself. He still faced the wall.

King Loki stared at the mighty warrior whose shoulder rapidly moved up and down as he struggled for breath. Loki crossed his arms over his chest, "Well...well...well..." Loki muttered proudly. His voice unfeeling as he aimed it in the direction of the once heir to the throne. "Who would have thought that after all these years, Odin's spoiled boy would have finally learned that he can't always get what he wants," the regal king mocked.

Thor seemed to pay no heed of Loki's mockery, "I thought that you...in all your brilliance...you would think of a way that we could defeat the Dark-Elves...I...I...I thought you truly wanted to help. I thought you wanted help save us...I thought you wanted to avenge Dagmar," Thor expressed his voice drifting away.

"I did avenge her!" Loki shouted back.

Thor took a deep breath, his whole body was shivering "I thought you wanted to come home," he mashed his lips together as he struggled to speak. "I thought you wanted to be redeemed," the prince swallowed the giant dry lump lodged in the center of his esophagus. "B-b-b-but," Thor stuttered. "All you wanted was to destroy me," Thor muttered. His voice was barely a whisper, but Loki heard him loud and clear.

Loki blew a razzberry out of the side of his mouth. "All I ever wanted was to rule," the dark enchanted replied. "Destroying you and Odin," He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head while chuckling. He tip-toed closer to Thor. He leaned over into Thor's ear. He raised his pale hand and started to gently stroke and pet Thor's grimy blonde mane. Thor's shuddered as he felt Loki's cold, ivory fingers running their way along his scalp and the nape of his neck. After three gentle, lulling and soothing stroked, Loki's long, porcelain fingers got caught in the tangles of Thor's bedraggled locks. He gripped tightly at the strands of hair and yanked Thor's head back. The golden-locked prince gasped, "That was just icing on the cake," he swore as he licked his chops like a hungry wolf right in front of Thor's face. Thor's hand reached out to grab Loki by the throat once more, but just as Thor's muddy hand encircled the slim white neck, used his magic and disappeared from Thor's vision. Thor lost his balance and his legs that were already weak and shaky gave way and the strong warrior went crashing down to his knees.

"Dammit, Loki" Thor cursed. He slammed the mud and thatch on the floor and the mud flew up and hit Loki in the face and the pristine king was finally sullied. "How did you come to hate me so?' He wailed. said looking up. His shoulders and chest heaved. "What did I ever do to you to lead you to this?" Thor asked in bewilderment. "Was I so horrible to you growing up?" He questioned relentlessly. "Didn't mother and father raise you and love and give you everything you could have ever wanted?" He inquired as tears trailed down his face.

"No Thor! You had everything!" Loki spat. "I had a gilded cage, a window with a view of all I could have had if you weren't in my way," he expressed. "And now," the tyrant paused and stooped down and took Thor by the chin. "Dear brother," he said as he stroked Thor's face only to slap him across it. "You won't be," he said and there was a harsh scowl lining his face as he snapped his fingers and stood to his feet.

"Never call me brother," Thor growled low in his throat. As he turned his head back to facing the front after experiencing Loki's cold palm against his cheek. "How could you ever look me in the eye and call me 'Brother?'" Thor questioned as liquid streamed down his face. "Wasn't I good brother to you?" He kept pressuring and Loki's lips trembled and twitched as buckets of sweat dribbled down his temple.

Heat washed over Loki's body and despite being in a cold subterranean prison he felt like he was frying on a beach somewhere. He was hot around the collar and he had to resist the urge to run his finger around the lining of his tunic to loosen the collar. He swallowed hard as he tried to cool himself. He tried to think of a cooling spell, but his brain felt like it was being hit by 1000 lightning bolts and he could not quite recall the magic words needed to stave off the overwhelming heat that plagued him. The fire that consumed him sizzled his synapses and sent electric currents rippling through his body. His bones and brain were on fire and he wanted to scream as his mind was inundated with memories.

Loki stood outside his mother's study room. He was supposed to be waiting in his room, but curiosity and anxiety had gotten the better of him. His favorite mage group The Marvels were doing a tour throughout Asgard. They were mages from all across the Nine Realms. They knew all sorts of magic, from elemental to illusion casting, hypnotism, shape-shifting, levitation and anything else imaginable. He had been an avid fan of theirs for years. Mother had promised to take him to the show it was a one night only show and it was a huge sold out show that was taking place at The Arena. Unfortunately, there was a dilemma. His mother's sister, his aunt Vanya had actually taken very ill after giving birth to her first child and had asked his mother to come and assist her.

He'd started to protest the matter. His Aunt Vanya was a wealthy woman with many servants and surely one of them could tend to her during her time of illness. The queen explained how his aunt was oh so very ill and that she not only needed care for herself, but for her child and that was not something that she could simply leave to the hands of a servant. She also stated how his Aunt Vanya was a young mother and needed guidance. She tried to make Loki understand and to an extent he did. He understood that a family member's health was more important that a wizard show. He knew that a new baby was something that the family should be excited about, but he was still disappointed. Loki was a smart and rational child so he thought of alternative possibilities. He suggested that Aunt Vanya and the new baby could come and stay at the palace and mother could help them there and they'd have the best possible care. His mother stroked his hair and then explained how his poor aunt was on bedrest. He asked if the queen could go to visit his aunt after the show, but she expressed that the matter was quite urgent. He couldn't go with Father because Odin was away from Asgard working on negotiations. He was crestfallen, but he told his mother that he understood. Queen Frigga knew her son far too well to actually believe he was that easily accepting of such bad news. But Loki was different than Thor. Thor would kick and scream and yell and fume until he got his way, but her younger son was more mild-mannered. He never liked to give her a hard time, for just as she was sensitive to his needs, he was sensitive to hers. He could tell that it was hard for his mom to give him this news. She promised to make it up to him. She promised that she would take him to do something extra special and they would have a day just for the two of them as soon as she returned from visiting his aunt and new cousin in hill country.

Queen Frigga told him that his nursemaid Helga would take him to the show. The young prince made a face. he tried not to seem too disgusted by the thought of having to spend the evening with Helga. Helga was a stodgy old curmudgeon of a woman. She was the head nursemaid that he and Thor had and she was his least favorite. She was strict and fairly humorless, she hardly ever smiled. Now, that Thor was older and in adolescence he had little need for the use of the nursemaid staff, which meant that Loki had the privilege of having Helga's attention all too himself. The truth of the matter was that Helga had always preferred Thor and so when they'd get in trouble together she wasn't as harsh with her punishments, but now that it was him the woman dished out consequences like a prison warden. A night with Helga was no treat at all. The raven-haired prince practically begged his mother to let him go alone. The queen laughed and shook her head and kissed his cheek. She rubbed in the smear of her pretty pink lip-pain into his cheek. She told him he was far too young to traverse the city alone. At a mere 350 (10) he supposed he knew it was a long shot to ask to go alone. Finally, he suggested something that even surprised himself... he asked if Thor and he could go together alone.

The queen of Asgard paused, pursed her lips and put her hand to her chin. The queen considered the notion for a moment. Thor was a bit older and he had recently gone to the market square one afternoon with a few of his friends for the first time alone. The excursion had proven to be fairly uneventful, all though there was a report from a few city guards patrolling the area that the young prince had been about to engage in a bout of fistacuff with some local young ruffians who tended to lurk about the marketplace. Thor going out into the marketplace for one afternoon with a few friends was one thing, bu besides neither she or Odin would be in another, besides neither she or Odin would be in town. Her young sons were full of mirth, and mischeif and quite frankly just trouble. The lack of supervision could be an excuse for the two princes to run rampant wild in the streets. The thought of such an occurence set the queen's teeth on edge. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that perhaps Thor needed a little more responsibility. Her eldest son was the crown prince of Asgard, future king and all-father. His life would be frought with responsibilities. He needed to start assuming some of them. How was he to take care of the entire kingdom and manage the affairs of the Nine Realms if he couldn't even manage one evening in the city with his younger brother. It was a perfect opportunity. She told Loki that she would speak with Thor about the matter. She patted him on the cheek and sent him on his way to wash up for supper.

He listened intently outside the door as he heard his mother and older brother speaking. "You wanted to see m, Mother," the young man asked somewhat annoyedly.

"Yes, darling, thank you for coming," Queen Frigga stated graciously as she extended her hand and offered one of the couches for her son to sit upon. The queen was behind a large desk that was made of white wood and pearl. On it she had many papers and scrolls and booklets and the royal woman seemed to be rather busy making sure to answer several correspondences. She finished one of her letters and laid her quill back in the ink. She rolled up the letter into a scroll. Dipped her ring in the red wax to form her seal, before she placed the item to the side. Before she smiled up at the blonde-haired young man.

"Am I in trouble?" Thor inquired. He wondered if somehow his mother found out about the fact that he'd actually been skipping his arithmatic lessons and going fishing. There was no way that mother should know. His professor had threatened to tell the king and queen, but a prince's promise was worth much in Asgard and he swore that he would attend his classes and make up the work he'd missed. Still, mother had away of finding things out. Thor had puzzled about it for a long time, then Loki eventually pointed out that it could simply be Heimdal informing her.

The wife of Odin quirked her lips and gave a smirk that reminded him of his younger brother. "No," she paused. Her eyebrow raised just a bit. "Should you be?" she inquired as she pushed away from the desk and stood to her feet and walked toward her son.

Prince Thor flashed a winning grin at his mother. He made his sparkling blue eyes that were the same color as her own grow big and wide and innocent. "No," he said all too quickly and he laughed and flagged off the notion. "No, no, no," he went on. He shook his head and few of his golden strands fell in his face. "Nope," he said. "It's not like I've been cutting class or anything," the words slipped out the young prince's mouth before he could even think. He gasped, then clapped his hand over his mouth quickly. He pulled his hand down from over his full lips. Such an action surely seemed far too incriminating. He pulled his hands down and showed a sheepish grin, then shrugged. "You know, I'm just saying that as an example," the son of Odin pointed out.

"Quite," The queen muttered cautiously. Her eyebrow was still raised. The thought and the nerve of a prince of Asgard to be so lax in his studied that he would actually miss his lessons. They had made sure to hire the finest teachers for the academy to make sure that the noble children of Asgard were afforded the finest education in all the realms and Thor was simply squandering it. The thought simply made the royal woman's blood boil, but she needed to put that aside for a moment. She would deal with that in due time. She came closer the grinning lad and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Actually, I have a favor to ask of you," she gave him a wink.

Immediately, Thor's interest was perked and his shoulders squared and he puffed out his chest that was actually becoming broader and stronger everyday. He'd recently gone through quite a growth spurt. But Thor had always been tall and hearty for his age. "Really?"

"Yes," Frigga said perkily. "As you know your Aunt Vanya has recently given birth," the queen started. THor scratched his head. He vaguely remembered mother sharing a letter over the dinner table one night, but though mother was simply ecstatic about the news he couldn't have cared less. Having a crying baby come to visit the palace wasn't exactly what he considered a good deal.

"Are they coming to visit?' He asked rolling his eyes. "Please don't put the baby next to my room," Thor protested.

Queen Frigga placed her hands upon her hips and gave her son and incredulous stare. "They won't be coming to visit," she informed. "Actually, its quite the opposite I'm afraid, she and the babe took very ill after the birth. She is on bedrest and needs some tending to while her husband is away."

"Oh," The blonde prince muttered as he rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand. He felt bad. Aunt Vanya was young and fun, she loved to dance and sing and he actually liked when she visited for she gave some of the best gifts of any of mother's relatives. Perhaps he had been slightly jealous, a new baby would probably mean that she'd forget his birthday. Then he thought better of it. That would be nearly impossible, his birthday was practically a holiday in Asgard.

"I'm making arrangements to go and visit her at the end of the week. I hope to be back in only a few short days," she explained.

"You're going away?" Thor asked. It was rare that both mother and father would leave town at the same time.

"It'll only be for a few short days, my dear," she informed once more. "My sister needs some care."

"Can I have Sif and Volstagg and Hogun and Frandal stay over?" Thor questioned excitedly.

Queen Frigga smiled, "Certainly, I can't see why that would be a problem. As long as you all mind your manners and make sure to listen to the staff," the queen expressed.

Thor tossed his head back and laughed. "Of course! Of course!" he blew a relaxed razzberry out the side of his lips. "Well thank you, Mother!" Thor clapped his hands, pointed at his mother, gave her a wink and started to head out the door.

"Thor!" The queen called him back just as his foot was about to cross the threshold of the door. He frozen mid-step with his foot still in the air. "Aren't you forgetting about the favor I am asking of you," she sang.

"Oh," he blinked and lowered his foot and started to turn around to face his mother. "I thought that was it," he shrugged.

"You thought that the favor I was going to ask you was to hot your friends at the palace?" Odin's queen inquired as she crossed his arms over her chest and stared at her son with a bored expression.

"Well, yeah," the young teen nodded back.

The royal woman shook her head. "No," she stated flatly. "You see I have a bit of a conflict," she began. "I need to go and visit my sister, but I promised your brother that I would take him to see the Marvel's magic show, this weekend. I told him that I would make it up to him and told him I would have Helga take him while I'm gone, but he suggested that you take him. Just the two of you for a fun night in the Imperial City!" Queen Frigga was grinning from ear to ear as she held her son by the shoulder and presented him with the outing.

Just outside the door Loki waited with baited breath to hear his brother's reply. He had his fingers crossed and his eyes squeezed shut tight, while the tip of tongue poke out from the corner of his mouth as he waited for his brother's answer. 'Please say yes, please say yes," the child hoped.

"Go to a magic show?" Prince Thor rolled his eyes. "You can't be serious," he waved off his mother's suggestion.

Queen Frigga's expression quickly changed. "Of course I'm serious!" She placed her hands on her hips. "Honestly, Thor I thought you'd leap at the opportunity. You wouldn't have to go with an escort, it would just be the two of you. You could take the carriage," she offered.

"I would love to go into the city alone with friends, to an event of my choosing, like a joust or tournament. But I a magic show," the teen's voice took on a whiny tone. "Come on, Mother that is for children," Thor insisted.

Loki's green eyes popped open after he heard his brother's words. His thin lips pulled into a deep arching frown. His jade pupils soon welled with tears. His shoulders rounded and he slowly walked away from his mother's study.

"What exactly are you?' The golden queen cocked her head to the side and asked.

Thor proudly squared his shoulder. "Mother I am a warrior in training," Prince Thor insisted. "I've advanced in my sword training and I've joined the wrestling team and even the junior joust. I'm far to old to watch jesters doing silly tricks." He wiggled his fingers in the air at the thought of such nonsense.

"Thor the Marvel's are spectacular group of mages. I think you will see that it is more than just a few parlor tricks. You will love it," Queen Frigga assured him.

"I will not," Thor crossed his arms and stamped his foot. "Real warriors don't use magic! It's for cowards." He snorted. "It's a waste of time to go and watch something that doesn't even promote the virtues of Asgard."

"Thor!" Queen Frigga clapped her hands. "Stop that! How can you say that?" she asked harshly. Thor grew rigid. He didn't expect his mother to have such a vehement reaction. "I have practiced magic for centuries and I am a shield-maiden," the queen informed the prince.

The son of Odin lowered his gaze for a split-second. "Yes, mother but you are a woman," He explained in a muffled voice. "It's not befitting for a prince of Asgard to participate in such events," he reported.

Queen Frigga rolled her eyes, "Thor who tells you these things?" She asked as she put her hand to her head.

"Everyone knows and thinks so mother."

"Well its simply not true. Think of all the relics that are in the weapons vault. Each one of those relics contains an element of magic and knowing how to use those weapons has made great kings and terrible tyrants of the past. Your father and my self both possess such powers and I dare say no one in Asgard would label us cowards," she humphed.

"I'm not saying you and father are cowards, mother" Thor tried to back track, "But I will seriously be a laughingstock at school if anyone finds out I have gone to such an event," He protested and shook his head.

"Why? It's going to be a wonderful show. I'm sure many of the young people from the academy will attend and if they don't you will be the envy of all."

"No one wants to go see that stupid show," Thor grumbled.

"Thor, that's enough," the wife of the king scolded. "It means a lot to your brother. He truly wanted to go with you. It's a few hours of your time, it's not the end of the world," she explained.

"It could be!" Prince Thor chimed in. "People could see me there and think that I want to study magic and then they'd all mock me," he pointed out.

"You could simply explain to them that you took your brother out for the evening."

"That'll give them even more of a reason to ridicule me. What am I now to play Loki's governess?" Thor ranted.

"Alright, Thor I've heard enough," The queen said raising her hand to halt her son's mouth. "I was considering trusting you to spend an evening in the palace alone with your friends after you proved to me that you were able to do this small task, but apparently you are not mature enough to handle such an evening," she sighed.

"What?" Thor bawked. "I am so mature enough! You can't do that, you already said that I could have my friends over," he argued.

"Thor Odinson!" Frigga snapped. "I am queen of Asgard and I can do as I please, do you understand?' She asked sternly.

"Yes, Mother," he replied in a sullen tone.

"if you are not even willing to do this favor for your brother and I then perhaps I should not be willing to do a favor for you," the queen responded. She turned her head to the side and arched her brow.

"Ugh!" The prince groaned. "Are you forcing me to do this?' Thor asked in annoyance.

Queen Frigga took a seat on one of her sitting couches. She patted the seat next to her and motioned for for him to come and sit down next to her. Reluctantly, Thor shuffled his feet toward the couch and sat down next to his mother with a huff. He rested his elbows on his knees. Soon he felt his mother's strong, but gentle hand rubbing along his back and shoulders, "I don't intend to force you," Frigga stated. "I won't make you take Loki if you truly don't wish to. I want the evening to be enjoyable for your brother, he has been looking so forward to it and honestly, so was I. I regret the fact that I can't go. I have to give up something that I really want to do in order to do something for my younger sister. Being a good older sibling means sacrificing sometimes," Queen Frigga shrugged. "Being a good king means sacrifice all the time. Do you understand my son?" she asked.

Thor let out a deep gusty breath, "So you are forcing me," the prince concluded.

"There is no forcing, Thor, the choice is yours," Frigga explained shaking her head. "But if you are truly becoming the man that you say you are then I know you will make the right decision," she said as she patted him on the shoulder and started to head out the door.

Loki was lying in his bed, his body curled around a pillow as he pretended to be reading a book. He tried to get lost in a good piece of literature, but all the while he kept imagining his big evening being ruined by Helga. He doubted that Helga would let him buy sweets. She'd tell him things like don't slouch, sit up straight, don't shout, act like a prince of Asgard. And when she was done barking out orders she'd probably fall asleep during the show. Oh sure, they would have loads of fun. He sighed and sniffled the more he thought about it. He flopped on his back and placed the book on top of his face. It would be better if he just stayed home.

Soon he heard a knock at his door. "C-come, come in," Loki called trying to hide the tremble in his voice. He figured that it was simply his mother coming to deliver the bad news as gently as she could.

"Loki," Thor whispered as he poked his head in the door. "Are you asleep?' He asked.

"N-n-no," the younger prince stuttered as he desperately tried to swipe the tears from his eyes. He sniffled and tried to wipe his face to hide his red nose.

Thor practically slammed the door as he made his way into his brother's room. "Are you crying?" The older prince asked indignantly.

"N-n-n-no," Loki shot back as he continued to vigorously rubbed his watery, red eyes.

Thor raised his eyebrow as he crossed his way toward Loki's bed. All the while he was picking up Loki's things. Loki hated that. "Mmm-hmm," Thor nodded. "Sure, looks like you've been crying," Thor pointed out as he tossed a golden paper weight in the air.

"I'm not crying!" The dark-haired boy protested. "It's just allergies," he said taking one last deep sniff.

Thor let out a loud, burly guffaw at his brother's expense. "Yeah, right" the blonde-haired teenager teased. "Your just sitting here boohoohooing because, Mummy can't take you to your little magic show, aren't you," he teased while mockingly rubbing his eyes.

Loki popped up from his bed, he balled his tiny hand into a tight-knuckled fist. He went flying off at his older brother eager to throw a punch. Thor immediately caught his younger siblings little fist. THor held a beautiful wide grin on his handsome, young face. "Shut-up, Thor!" Loki shouted and then with his free hand he tried to land a solid hit to Prince Thor's stomach, but Thor was strong and even as a youth he had tight abs and Loki's fist simply bounced right off the washboard stomach. "No, I wasn't," he protested as he stomped on Thor's foot. The elder prince winced slightly, but continued in an uproar of laughter as he grabbed Loki's other scrawny hand. "Let me go!" Loki declared as he pulled away from his brother.

"Well never fear, little brother, I, the mighty Thor Odinson, will be taking you to see the Marvels!" Thor announced. He finally dropped Loki's arms only in order to stretch out his arms wide looking to receive a hug.

Prince Loki snorted and pushed away from Thor. His shove was just strong enough to send Thor stumbling back by just a few steps. "Forget it!" The younger prince said. "I don't want to go anymore," he stated as he swiped under his nose.

Prince Thor rolled his bright blue eyes, "Oh, come on, it's all that you've been talking about for weeks," Thor expressed.

"How would you know?" Loki muttered under his breath. He dug his toe into the shaggy, plush gold carpet that that decorated his room. He and Thor hadn't exactly spent a lot of time together lately. It was only natural he supposed. Thor and he were nearly a century a part and now that Thor and he no longer attended the same school it seemed as though had just drifted. Thor was busy training at the academy as apart of the wrestling team and the junior jousters and he was gaining even more popularity than he had had at the primary school. There were even older youths who tried to be friends with the son of Odin. He was always being invited to some tournament or event after school or asked to accompany some students on a getaway weekend. He felt like he hardly saw Thor anymore. Thor used to annoy him. Thor was always pestering him to come on some journey with him even it was just to the lake or for a ride through the woods. He was always dragging him away from his studies by entreating him to join him in a swim in the palace pool or play the latest sport that had been set up in the palace stadium. He would barge into his room and touch his things and mess them up, he would ruffle his hair and give him noogies and put him in headlocks and chokehold, he'd always get him into trouble. At first he was somewhat elated that he had more free time. He had the time to devote to his lessons, his magic, his reading, he was able to practice his music and work on his calligraphy and art in piece. The palace artist in residence had even taken to giving him private painting lessons in the afternoons, but at the same time he had started to miss his older brother. He hadn't even realized how much he'd missed him until the words had slipped out his mouth and he asked mother if he and Thor could go to see the Marvel's together. But if Thor didn't want to take him that was fine. "Well, I don't want to go with you," The younger boy shot back.

"Oh really?" Thor raised his yellow brows.

"Yes, really," the green-eyed child responded with attitude.

"That's why you begged Mother to let me take you?" Thor said as he cocked his head to the side and placed his hands on his hips?

Prince Loki spun around on his heels. His face was stricken. "I didn't beg!" he snapped.

"Whatever," Thor flagged off his brother. "You cried like a baby," he said as he made tear stains with his fingers.

"No one cried!" the younger child protested as he watched as his older brother continued to laugh. "I only asked to go with you because I didn't want to go with Helga," Loki explained.

"Yeah, who would?" Thor nodded. "She's awful," he stuck out his tongue like he had a bad taste in his mouth.

"But don't even bother going if you're only going because Mother is making you go," Loki stated as he went to sit back on his bed.

"Oh no, no, no, no, no, little brother. No" the older son of the king and queen of Asgard protested as he rushed behand the raven haired youngster and grabbed him by the shoulders. "No. No." He said as he took him shoulder. "You don't get to ruin this for me," he pointed out.

"Ruin what for you?" Loki asked as he rolled his eyes and curled his thin lips. "You don't want to go with me anyway, so now you don't have to...I'm not going. Shouldn't you be elated?' Loki wiggled his little fingers in the air.

"Oh, you're right about that I don't want to go," Thor admitted. "But why should a few hours at that ridiculous show keep me from throwing the biggest ball Asgard's young people have ever seen?" Thor mused and rubbed his hands together.

"Ball?' Loki gave a confused look. "I thought you just wanted Sif and the fools free to spend the night?" The emerald eyed boy teased.

"Well it started as that, but then I figure Mother will be so impressed and pleased with the fact that I actually took you that she'd be willing to do anything for me...even let me hold a ball," he boasted.

"Mother is not going to let you hold a ball," Loki insisted shaking his head. He nearly started laughing at his brother's crazy notions.

"Oh I am sure she will, once she sees how responsible I am," he assured the younger prince as he put his hand on his belts.

"Well I'm not going. You can't just use me as some bargaining chip with, Mother."

"Oh yes you are!" Thor argued.

"No, I'm not!" The second son of Odin remarked.

"You most certainly are," Thor stated more firmly this time.

"You can't make me," Prince Loki insisted.

"Sure, I can," The golden-locked prince said with a wink. "I don't care if I have to drag you kicking and screaming. You're going to see the Marvels and you're going to tell Mother how much fun you had," Thor declared as he pointed a stern finger at his younger sibling before hitting him upside the forehead and knocking him back into the bed.

A few days rolled by and soon it was the time for the day of the Marvels show. And although the youngest son of Odin didn't want to show it he was actually thrilled that he was still getting the chance to go. He'd loved the Marvel's for years. Even if Thor didn't enjoy. Even if he made fun of him for it. At least he was going. He beamed in the mirror as he beheld himself. He was ready for the show. He was dressed like a true magician with his wizard's hat and his robe and wand. He was set. Loki's concentration was broken from gazing at himself in the mirror by the pounding of a thunderous fist a long his mahogany door. "Loki, are you ready?" Thor called from behind the door

"Yes! Yes!" The hopeful mage replied, perhaps all too perkily. He tried to contain his joy, but when he flung the door open wide and stretched his arms open even wider and with a grin spread from ear to ear he looked down right giddy.

Thor looked his younger brother up and down, he was wearing a pointy hat with shiny moons and stars and precious stones around the rims. The hat was a bright, royal purple and he had a robe made of silk and velvet to match with gold trimming and he even had curly toed shoes, just like the ones that Lord Algrim wore. "What are you wearing?" Thor asked as his blue eyes darted up and down inspecting his brother's outfit.

"What?" Loki asked back. "This is what real mages wear?" The jade-eyed prince explained.

"No wonder no respectable Aesir wants to be one," Thor kibitzed out the side of his mouth. "Well at least it will be dark," the heir to the throne said as he shook his head and wiped his brow. "Well let's get this show on the road," Thor expressed. "The sooner we leave, the sooner it will be over," he remarked and started to walk away boredly with his hands in his cloak pockets.

Loki scampered behind him, he tripped over himself a little bit due to the fact that his mage's robe was so long. He caught up to in time to kick him in the backside. Thor let out a slight yelp. "You're going to like this," the younger prince informed him.

Prince Thor simply shook his head. "I highly doubt that."

The two young royals arrived at the Arena via carriage. The Imperial City was alive and bustling with the pulsating energy that only a major metropolis could offer. The Arena was jam packed. There were throngs of people pressing their way into the venue. And for his part Thor was amazed to see how many people were actually there. "Look, Thor. Look at how many people there are?" Loki pointed out the carriage window excitedly. Thor's sapphire eyes were wide. Young and old, serf and noble were forming a line wrapped around the Arena trying to get in. This event was just as crowded as any sporting event in Asgard. When the royal carriage arrived at the Arena the valet immediately to the carriage to a premium stable and they sons of the king were escorted to the royal box-seats where they had a breath-taking view of stage. Thor looked around and noticed that many of the other spectators were arrayed like his brother in wizard garbs and he actually felt rather foolish that he wasn't so festooned. Once in their seats serving wenches were assigned to the young princes and the boys were given a scrumptious assortment of candies and confectionaries and salty goods. Their eyes lit up at the sight of the endless buffet of puffed pastries, succulent fruits, fried cheeses and roasted and garlic mutton that they could eat straight off the bone. They looked at each other and both viciously dug in.

The show started with much fanfare. There were trumpets blasting from every corner of the Arena. Drums were being beaten and stringed instruments were plucked. "It's starting! It's starting!" Loki's green eyes were as big as saucers as he looked around. He clapped his hand enthusiastically.

Thor yawned as he stretched his arms and legs out, he propped his legs up in front of him and positioned his hands behind his head. "Well time for me to take a nap," The older prince stated.

"What are you kidding me?" Loki questioned. He punched Thor in the arm and then started to shake him, but Thor continued to be asleep. He even started to snore. "Unbelievable!" Loki rolled young emerald eyes and slapped his forehead. "Fine," He huffed and he folded his arms across his chest, but you're going to miss it," Loki teased in a sing-song voice. He turned his eyes from his brother and cast them toward the skies where a search light scanned the heavens. Thor heard as the crowd started counting down and Loki's young voice joined in. All of a sudden Prince Thor started to hear these whizzing and popping sounds like firecrackers. It was too loud and the young warrior in training couldn't sleep even if he wanted to. He cracked one of his sapphire blue eyes open just a smidgen and looked toward the sky. There he beheld as 5 distinct meteors shot through the air. They were all a blaze in amazing, florescent colors. The light coming from the comets was nearly blinding. Thor watched with a gaping mouth as the comets landed on the stage and out of them in pastel colored puffs of smoke emerged 5 enchanters.

The crowd went wild. They were up on their feet chanting and roaring the names of the Marvels. The Marvel's wasted no time in giving the people what they wanted to see. They did all sorts of incredible kinds of tricks. They turned themselves into a sort liquid metal and morphed themselves into unbelievable shapes like feats of wondrous architecture. They manipulated the elements. They made flame and water and rock dance about as if they had life. Then they used the natural forces to battle. During the battle Thor was on the edge of his seat. They created mind boggling illusions. Most of which the crowd didn't even know were illusions until the magnificent mages made the images vanish before their eyes. At one point they created a large dragon that seemed so real Thor and Loki could feel the heat from its flaming breath against their cheeks. They shape-shifted into the most incredible of creatures from eagles to pegasus that took flight all around the large arena. They hypnotized members of the audience. They had people doing some strange things like barking like dogs and mooing like cows and acting out their wildest dreams.

"That can't be real its all staged," Thor responded as he watched the goody antics of the men and women under the sway of the magicians.

"Why don't you raise your hand and volunteer then," Loki offered with a mischeivous glint in his green eyes.

"No way!" Thor shook his head. "I'm the crown prince of Asgard no way I'm making a fool of myself before my subjects," he expressed.

"Oh, I thought you already did that every day," Loki snickered between his fingers.

"What did you say?" Thor asked and nearly snapped his neck as he turned to face his younger brother.

"Nothing," Loki added quickly, "It's just if its all staged and not real you really have nothing to fear right," the younger child egged on.

"Hmm," Thor mused. "You there," He pointed to a young serving wench who had been assigned to the royal box seats.

"Who me, your highness," she pointed to herself and started to giggle.

"Yes, you" Prince Thor nodded. "Volunteer for one of the mages to hypnotize you," he ordered.

The young maiden gulped. "W-w-what?" she questioned. "B-b-but, but, but sire please," she stammered. Thor insisted and soon the girl found herself raising her hand all the while hoping and praying that she would not be picked, but of course on of the Marvels flew up and grabbed her and flew her down to the stage. There she was forced to gaze into his swirling eyes until she felt sleepy and when she came to she was pecking at the ground clucking and acting like chicken.

"See," Loki began. "It's not staged."

Thor shook his blonde locks, "Definitely, not" He responded but his sea blue eyes were intent on the spectacles taking place below. "You've never done anything like that to me have you, Loki?" Prince Thor inquired.

"Oh no, brother, never" Loki said shaking his hands as he hid two crossed fingers behind his back.

The evening rolled on and the show became even more exciting. The mages started to perform escape tricks. One of the female enchantresses was tied up in chains and hung upside down in a glass box that was filled with water. She writhed and wiggled and all at once in the blink of an eye she was dry and free and sitting in one of the seats in the crowd. They even had a part of the show where they managed to levitate the entire crowd. Prince Thor wouldn't have believed it had he not seen it with his own eyes and felt his own body take on a state of weightlessness. By the end of the electrifying show the Marvels had received a standing ovation from all their fans including the crown prince of Asgard. By the end of the performance Prince Loki's eyes were no longer on the wondrous enchanters, but they were trained on Thor. He couldn't believe the way his big brother was applauding for the magicians. Thor was hooting and hollering and whistling and Loki through his head back and laughed.

The evening ended and slowly the crowd trickled from their seats and made their way toward their carriages and horses. "Oh my goodness that was incredible!" Thor exclaimed as they were leaving.

Loki looked back up at him, his mouth full of cotton-candy, "Did you really like it, brother?" Loki asked.

"Liked it?" Thor asked wide eyed. "Loki! I loved it!" the elder prince proclaimed. " When the one guy went whizzing by like this" Thor expressed using his hands to show the gesture. "And then they girl came flying up like that...mind blowing!" he exclaimed.

"I...I liked when the holding building was shaking and they caused that earthquake," Loki went on.

"Oh yeah, and when we were all floating in the air," Thor elaborated as he passed a vendor some money and purchased an actual mage's hat. The firstborn son of Odin proudly placed it on his head. "How do I look?" he turned to his brother and asked.

Loki giggled between his fingers, "Like a real wizard," he nodded excellent.

"So, you don't think magic is for children?" He inquired.

Thor wrapped his hand around Loki's shoulder. "Not magic like that," He winked. "You're going to be a great enchanter just like that," he told the younger child and nudged his chin with his fist.

"Really brother, you think so?" LOki beamed.

"I know so," Thor assured him as they made their way to their carriage.

"And you're going to be the best warrior ASgard has ever seen," Loki complimented.

"I know," the fair-haired teenager announced as he flashed a debonair smile at the younger boy.

"Thanks for everything tonight, Thor. Thanks for taking me...I know you didn't want to...but I'm glad you came," he shrugged.

"Me too, Loki" Thor said.

"This was the most fun I've had in ages!" the younger child reported.

"Well it's not over yet!" Thor told him. "Let's go to a restaurant and get something to eat," he suggested.

"Uhh...but aren't we supposed to be back to the palace by a certain time?"

"Yeah, I guess we'll be pass curfew," he nodded.

"That's not very responsible of you, Prince Thor," Loki pointed out.

Thor threw his hands up in the air. "I guess I'm not very responsible..."

"No, but you're a very good brother" Loki said as he threw his arms around Thor.

Loki nearly smiled as the fond memory raced through his mind. The night ended with two young brothers sitting on barstools eating a stuffed cheesy bread dinner and laughing about all the fun they had just had. It also ended with the palace guards having to come and retrieve them and escort them home.

In the twinkling of an eye 1000 other moments came racing through the king's brain. He felt like his head would explode. He could recall his earliest moments as a clumsy toddler desperately trying to keep up with Thor. Their childhood of he and Thor playing with toy soldiers. Thor reading to him when he was still too young for reading himself. He could easily picture Thor holding his clammy hand when he was sick. Patting him down with a cloth to cool his fever. Listening to him jabber on in delirium. He had all the patience and care of their mother. He thought of all the advise Thor had given him over the years. Most of it had been poor, but still the oaf had tried. He had comforted him when he was a heartbroken lad over the loss of his first relationship with Angraboda. She was horrible witch, but he'd given his heart to her and he felt like a fool for being decieved. Thor had been the one to tell him that he wasn't a fool and that she was monster for what she did to him. He told him that he was a catch and smart and funny and handsome and that any woman would be lucky to have him. It was things that mother had said before but it meant so much coming from his brother. He thought of the many times they'd fought side by side and Thor had pushed him out of the way so that he wasn't struck down by an enemy or the times Thor had carried him off the battlefield. His smile wavered. He bit his lip. "Yes," He admitted. "Yes, you were a good brother."

"Then why?" Thor muttered pitifully. "How could you have ever looked me in the eye and called me your brother?" He shook his head. "You may speak 12 languages, but you had no idea the meaning of that word," Thor's voice was a low rumble.

:This was just what was always meant to be, brother," he said. he was panting he was so hot.

"Don't call me that!" Thor snapped looking up with lightning in his eyes. "Don't you dare ever call me that!" he threatened. e grit and ground and pulled against the fetters, which seemed heavier. He tried to stand once more. It proved hard and painful, but he forced his weak achy legs to work. He attempted to punch at the snake in a gilded crown, but the bonds all at once became too heavy. He couldn't even raise his fist about his head. Thor was red and fuming. "Even if you live one thousand years never part your lips to call me that!" He declared. "WE ARE NOT BROTHERS!" Thor yelled.

"No we're not," Loki stated his voice somber. He sighed and dropped his eyes and looked at his hands. He still wore the ring that Thor had given him so many centuries again. He pulled it off his little finger and dropped it into the mud and thatch. He took a step back. he was shaking like a leaf and he felt faint.

Thor's puffy blue eyes watched the ring made of a bilgeschnipes icy tusk roll across the stubble and hay. His sapphire orbs were filled with hot liquid like lava. He took a step forward and crunched the ring beneath his bare feet. "I wish I'd never known you. I wish I never laid eyes on you," Thor cursed. "I wish father never brought you to Asgard!" Thor said as he pounded the ground.

Loki's heart thrummed in his hollow cavity of a chest. A wicked little sneer crossed his chapped lips and they were nearly bleeding. His forked tongue darted out to moisten them. "Go on! Go on! Say it! Say it!" he provoked nearly elated. "You wish he'd left me for dead?' Loki asked and there was a demented smile on his face.

"Yes," the crown prince stated with tears in his eyes.

"Oh,So do I," Loki muttered as one lonely tear finally fell from his evergreen eyes. "So do I. But you can bring yourself for this. Every time you spared my life has led to this moment, Thor.

"LEAVE ME!" Thor hollered. The blast from his lungs shook the foundations of the prison cell. "I HATE YOU!"

LOki allowed a wild and crazed cackle to escape from his throat as he heard Thor's brutal scream. "Finally," he breathed. "Now say it again! Make it real!" he begged.

"I HATE YOU!" The crown prince bellowed once more. It came from the deepest recesses of his heart and with that he crashed to his knees again.

Loki transported himself to just outside the prison walls. He leaned his head back against the iron doors and laughed like a maniac...he laughed himself into a tizzy. Soon he was hyperventilating. He threw himself against the wall. He tossed his horned helmet off his head and it rolled down the long empty corridor. He thrust off his armguards and armor off. His pulled off his breath plate. Finally, he was just down to his regal garments. They were made of fine and strong material, he clawed at them like an animal until they hung off his ivory skin tattered as a paupers shawl. He laughed himself into sobbing. He wept as he slid down to door. His fist pounded against the door and he was sure he broke his hand. He wailed like an infant. In all their years as brothers Thor never said he hated him.

A/N: WOOHOO readers you made it! I know that was a loooong chapter, but to me that is the emotional climax of the story and I didn't want to jip you of one moment of angst from these two brothers. Cards on the table, I saw Thor Ragnorok and it was soooo much fun. But I felt liken all the jokes got in the way of a story that is pretty serious and was dealing with some big issues. And even though the new movie has been released I still continue my tale as I originally had it in mind and any similarities that you my find between the two are purely coincidental, though honestly based on what Thor Ragnorok was I doubt they'll be any similarities lolol. Well anyway, you've come this far with the story and you've already seen Ragnork so you might as well express your opinion and tell me what you think. I promise I 'll respond to your comments whereas I doubt Taika Waitti will ;) Once again I appreciate your interest in this tale sooo much! It's almost done.

PS please pray for peace as another tragedy has struck. God bless!