Midgard

I made my way back to the throne room, where everything started. Wow, it had only been a day, and Thor had got banished, I learned I was a Jötunn, Odin went on sabbatical, and I became king. Now the sun had set, and the golden throne glowed from the light of the fire. I didn't know whether to feel overwhelmed or amused.

Slowly, I walked up the stairs to the throne, which were gold with black shiny tiles plated on top and stopped to gaze at it. All my life I had looked at this, knowing it was supposed rightful place to be sat upon it, dreaming that I would one day. Its detailed designs, the wide, beautifully patterned backrest, its many gold accents just make it more regal and authoritative, which is exactly what I wanted. There was nothing worse for a King than a kingdom who doesn't respect him, so this, plus a plan I was quickly working out in my head, would certainly set me up nicely. Now I just had to figure out a way to keep my claim on Asgard—that was going to be a lot harder.

Sitting down at last on the throne, I felt the coldness of the gold against my legs. Even through my thick flexible pants, I could feel it. It was good. Close up, I could see the different symbols and designs carved into the throne for projection; it was truly beautiful, and I appreciated the effort that was put into it. Still holding Gungnir in my left hand, I settled into a more comfortable position on the seat, leaning on the back rest as two Einherjar walked into the room, claiming their places stationed in front of the stairs. Their expressions were blank, which made it hard to know what they thought of me, but I didn't care much anyway. They would soon learn to love me, more than Odin, once they saw how easy I could make life for them. It was only a matter of time.

I was startled out of my thoughts when I heard the large door open, and saw Thor's friends stride urgently in, an arm crossed over their chests as they approached me.

"Allfather, we must speak with you urgently!" Sif exclaimed as she hurried in. They all had their heads bowed in respect as they walked, so it wasn't until they were halfway to the stairs that they realised that it was not Odin sitting on the throne, but me. They looked rather disappointed and alarmed, which angered me slightly, but I showed none of it.

"My friends," I said as they lowered their hands. Ugh, just calling them my friends made me annoyed.

"Where's Odin?" Sif asked, walking to the foot of the stairs, with the others following. I could basically see the thoughts crossing their faces. 'Did he kill him?' 'Did he overthrow him?' 'Are we doomed now?'

"Father has fallen into the Odinsleep," I explained, adding a little waver to my voice. "Mother fears he may never wake again." Hopefully. Now I knew that he was fine, and just sleeping, almost everything had worked out great for me.

"We would speak with her," she demanded. Clearly, they still didn't take me seriously. How dare she go around commanding me like that? Sif has always been a dominant one.

"She has refused to leave my father's bedside." Oh, it just felt wrong saying that now. "You will bring your urgent matter to me," I said raising my voice a little louder and standing up. I lightly banged Gungnir against the ground, but it still made a loud thud. "Your King."

After a much too long moment of hesitation, the four of them slowly kneeled in front of me—Volstagg, then Fandral, then Hogun and Sif. "My King," she started, very obviously disliking the fact that she had to speak to me with respect, "We would ask that you end Thor's banishment."

Of course. Why was I expecting anything else. All they thought about was Thor. Couldn't they see we were better off without him!? I scoffed, walking slowly and deliberately down the stairs as I spoke. "My very first command as King cannot be to undo the Allfather's last. Don't you understand? We are on the brink of war with Jotunheim. Our people… they need a sense of continuity… in order to feel safe in these difficult times." I stopped, still standing above them on the raised dais. Sif stood up quickly, opening her mouth to speak, but Fandral grabbed her arm to silence her.

"Yes, of course," he said, smiling. I smirked back. It didn't surprise me that he was the one to stop her—he always liked being commanded on his knees. I let my expression turn serious again.

"Good, then you will wait for my word."

"If I may," Volstagg interjected. I looked at him, resisting the urge to glare. "Beg the indulgence of Your Majesty," he continued, almost scoffing when he said 'Your Majesty', "to perhaps reconsider—"

"We're done," I said sternly. The looks of resentment towards on almost all of their faces were enraging. Even after all these years together, they still didn't trust me, or like me enough to think I was fit for King. Well, maybe once I'm done with all this Frost Giant drama, I could take I look into…making them feel otherwise.

After yet another long moment filled with tension, the rest of them stood up and slowly turned to leave, Sif being the last, who smirked at me—though there was no amusement—before leaving as well. I got the feeling she knew what I was doing, which was quite funny actually. She was completely helpless against anything and everything I can do—it was enthralling. But despite that, as they left, I just felt angry again. The fact that they still clearly didn't think of me as proper royalty right now—whether they knew about my heritage or not—just showed that they never valued me. It was hurtful, which made me livid. Couldn't they see that I had been waiting for this, wanting this, deserving this just as much as Thor? Couldn't they see that instead of endangering the lives of innocent Asgardians in an all-out war with a feared enemy, like Thor, I would protect them, and deal with problems myself? I had been like that, ever since I was a child, and I didn't plan on changing. Which led me to thinking about another memory as an infant.

While Frigga and Odin where visiting other Realms for some diplomatic matters, Thor and I were left to our own devices in the throne room. My brother sat on the throne, holding one of the guards' spears which he pretended was Gungnir, and commanded me around like he was the King. I listened with intrigue and fetched various items for him—glasses of water, fruit and nuts, relics, currency—and gracefully handed them to my big brother. He beamed and took them, either eating it or tossing it aside after looking at it for a while and ordered me to clean it up. I did so with less gusto than before and pleaded for a turn on the throne.

"Please Thor!" I begged, trying to push him off the seat. "Its my turn!"

"Get your own throne!" Thor protested, pushing me off and sending me tumbling down the steps. I cried out and tears welled in my eyes as I stood up again, feeling bruises set in on my bones. "That's not fair!" I wailed, but brother wasn't listening. I considered making a bigger deal—Thor seemed to cave once he finally noticed I was genuinely upset, but I thought of something better. While he was distracted, I focused my energy onto the visualisation of him turning into a mud brown frog. My hands glowed with green power and with a yelp from Thor, he quickly downsized to a small frog, sitting on the throne. I grinned.

I did it, I actually did it! Mother was going to be so proud. I approached Frog Thor and carefully picked him up, wrapping both my hands around him so he couldn't escape and threw him out the window. Obviously, I knew he would be fine. I quickly ran back to the throne and settled into my seat. It was far too small for me, but I remember it feeling cold then too, and also feeling right. Like I was the real King, and no one else could be better. This was where I was meant to be.

I held the fake Gungnir spear in my hand and pretended to shoot imaginary people with it, getting too carried away with the play story to notice Frog Thor coming back through the window on his hammer, flying through the air and smacking me in the back on the head with it and sending me down the stairs again. Apparently, as a frog, Thor still had his "worthiness" and strength, so before I could get up, I saw him carry Mjølnir in his tiny frog hands and walk on his back legs towards me, pinning me down by placing the hammer on my torso. Bones snapped in my chest as the unnatural weight of it pressed me into the ground. I cursed out loud and desperately tried to get it off me, but it was no use. In my father's (and the hammer's) eyes, I wasn't worthy, therefore I could not pick it up, not matter how many ribs it was crushing.

"Take this wretched spell off of me!" Thor's tiny voice yelled. He hopped on top of Mjølnir so I could see him. "Now!" I groaned and folded, realising him from his frog form and returning him to his full height. Looking rather pleased with himself, he picked up his hammer and stepped off me. I gasped for air and sat up, immediately placing a hand on my chest to start healing them. It'd be a slow process, since I wasn't very skilled, but soon Mother would be back, and she could speed it up for me.

I watched in dismay as Thor reclaimed his spot on the throne and continued to order me around as if nothing happened. I sat there, bruised on the floor, and sighed. I could never beat him. And I probably never would.

It was sad, is what it was. A lot of my childhood memories were sad. Depressing. Lonely. I chose not to dwell on such things though. It was the past, and there was nothing I could do about it now anyway, so the best thing to do is forget about it and move on to the future. Which, right now, looked promising. I only had two more things left to do, and then the rest will fall into place. Hopefully.

Ensuring that Thor wouldn't try to return to Asgard was my top priority. Wherever he was, I was sure he would be wanting to find his way back, and that would just ruin everything. Once that was taken care of, Odin waking up would be the next problem. Obviously, as soon as that happens, he would resume his role as King, and I would be left with nothing. Who knows, maybe he would even send me back to Jotunheim now that I know what I am.

I shifted on the throne. Gods, that was an… unnerving thought. It terrified me more than I would like. I blinked and took a deep breath, going back to my train of thought. Thor. I would need to visit him, which means I would need to know where he is, which means I have to speak with Heimdall. I sighed. Great. My favourite person. Slowly, I rose from my seat and walked down the stairs, making my way out of the room and back outside.

It was early morning now, but the sky was still dark. Birds quietly chirped and flew over my head as the creatures started to wake up. I hadn't slept, I realised, but there was no time for that now. For the second time now, I straddled a horse and rode down the rainbow bridge. It was getting way to frequent already. Once I neared the end, I saw him waiting for me once again, and I rolled my eyes, walking past him into the Bifrost chambers. I no longer cared what he thought of me—I was his King; he was sworn to obey me. There was nothing he could do.

"What do you require of me?" Heimdall said, following me inside.

I looked at him seriously. "I wish to know where Thor is." He studied me for a moment, as if considering whether he wanted to tell me, which was absurd, because he had to. A long moment passed of which both of us said nothing, and I was about to open my mouth when he finally spoke again.

"Take a look," he said at last, turning to face the stars that we could see from out the open side of the Bifrost. I followed his gaze and realised he wanted me to see what he saw, so I looked into his mind, and I found myself watching Thor, as if I was gazing through a window.

He was hand cuffed to a chair in some sort of white room, with a clear sliding door to his right. People buzzed on the other side of that door, all of them working at a desk or sorting through some files. A man with a suit on walked through the door and started talking to Thor about some incident that must have happened.

"You made some of the most highly trained professionals in the world look like a bunch of minimum wage mall cops," the man was saying. "That's hurtful." Ahh, so he fought someone. Why am I not surprised? Thor stared at the ground, looking bleak, while the man continued talking. These people here, they had technology, and they looked petite and weak and pale—must be Midgardian. I stepped back and removed myself from the vision, focusing back on the world I was in right now.

"So, Thor is on Earth," I mused, finding that quite amusing. His father had stripped him of his power and sent him to be among mortals; quite the punishment. Heimdall nodded, though I wasn't really asking him. "Send me there," I commanded, turning to face him. He nodded again and stepped up to the pedestal, driving Hofund into the shaft and twisting it. The Bifrost activated like last time and I was pulled into the rainbow stream at great speed, heading down to Midgard.

I immediately turned myself invisible so none of the people would see me, then transformed out of my Asgard outfit into a more "normal" looking suit—which consisted of a black jacket, tie, and trousers, with a white dress shirt and a patterned green scarf—before looking around at my surroundings. I was outside some sort of set up made by the Midgardians in an arid environment. It looked rough—like they had to put it together at last minute—and a series of plastic covered tunnels circled the main building in the centre. That was where Thor was. I made my way into the building, and eventually found the room he was being kept in. But as I passed a window, I caught a glimpse of Mjølnir, stuck in a pile of sandy dirt, scientists crowding around it. Ahh, so Odin had sent his hammer to the exact same place as him. That was smart. Extremely infuriating for brother Thor—it was almost admirable. I continued walking to the room Thor was being held in, and I saw the same man as before was still talking to him, and I assumed Thor hadn't said anything to him.

Casting an illusion over the door, I opened it, and walked in—but to everyone else, it remained still and closed—just as the something in the man's pocket beeped and he had to leave the room. Once he was gone, I revealed myself, but only to Thor. His face immediately brightened in surprise and joy as he saw me.

"Loki! What are you doing here?"

"I had to see you," I said, looking down and putting on a grave face. He frowned, sensing something was wrong.

"What happened?" He asked, concerned. "Jotunheim—is it Jotunheim? I—let me explain to Father—"

"Father is dead," I lied, looking at the ground. Thor looked devastated, which almost made me feel bad for him—almost. The fact that he believed me so easily kind of cancelled it out. He stared at me with his mouth hanging open, hands limp in his lap.

"…What…?" He finally spat out. I looked down at him—so weak, so vulnerable without his powers. I could probably tell him anything and he'd believe it.

"Your banishment," I started, feigning a look of sorrow. "The threat of the war with the Jötuns… it was too much for him to bear. You must not blame yourself… I know that you loved him, and I tried to tell him so, but he wouldn't listen to me, as usual," I added in a mutter. Thor put his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, obviously blaming himself. Good. I hesitated, thinking of something to say.

"It was so cruel to put the hammer within your reach… knowing you could never lift it. The burden of the throne has fallen to me now."

Thor looked up at me. Was that too far? Could he see through it now? But then I realised it was hopeful. He thought I would let him come home.

"The truce… I formed a truce with Laufey… and it is conditional upon your exile," I answered the unspoken question gravely.

"But couldn't—we must—we can find a way… right?"

"And Mother," I continued, "has forbidden your return." A lonely tear slipped down his cheek and he looked at me desperately. I very well knew the type of pain he was feeling right now. When you had done something, trying only to help, but everyone just ended up disappointed. A crack of sympathy for him leaked through, but I quickly diminished it. "I am so sorry."

"No…" he said, defeated. "I am sorry." He paused and looked deep into my eyes with upmost trust and sincerity, as another tear rolled down his cheek. "Thank you, for coming here."

Goddamn, why was he doing this to me? Why couldn't he just be angry or something like he would have been before? What had changed?

"Farewell," I said after a moment, before slowly turning around and making myself invisible again. Thor said goodbye too, just as the man from before walked back in. I quickly ducked out of the door before he shut it and made my way back outside again. But, as I found myself walking past that window again, seeing Mjølnir , it made me wonder if I could possibly be worthy now, since Thor wasn't. That would certainly make my life a whole lot easier.

I found another door and walked through it, down onto the wet sandy dirt were the hammer was sitting. Scientists in white uniforms circled around it, testing it with weird, crackling devices, and as they cleared momentarily, I wrapped my fingers around the handle, giving it three aggressive tugs. Nothing. Angrily, I gritted my teeth and uselessly put both my hands on it and tried to pull it out, but still nothing. To my father—and maybe the hammer, but I certainly wasn't going to think that an object could decide if I was "good enough"—I still wasn't worthy enough to use it. I sighed in exasperation and stepped back, glaring at the thing. It was fine, I didn't want it anyway. It was absurd, and a kingly person like myself shouldn't get involved in such childish things.

Exiting the site, I took a breath, deciding what to do next now that I was sure Thor wouldn't be coming back. I had to deal with Laufey before he sent his people onto Asgard—that was obvious—but how? He for sure wouldn't listen to me. I could tell him I was his son… but did I really want that to happen? Would he kill me? Would he take me in? Would he send me away, or just ignore it completely? No, that was too unpredictable, I can't make a successfully plan out of that.

Then a sort of great idea popped into my head. I could… I could give him what he wanted. I could bring him to Asgard… and let him kill Odin, because really, that's the one he hates. Why bring the rest of my kingdom into this, when I could just sacrifice the king? But there was one problem… did I actually want that? Do I want to see the closest thing I had to a father killed? I mean, it could be satisfying, but that wasn't in my nature. Frigga would for sure hate me for standing by and letting him die, and there wasn't a believable situation I could create where I wasn't there.

Then an actually great idea came through. I could save him. I could kill Laufey while he was distracted, and then I would have saved him, and the people would definitely respect me then. The plan was freely flowing through my head now, but there was one last problem. Laufey had to accept my proposal, otherwise all this amazing thinking would have been for nothing. I better make it good then.