Chapter One

It had been seventeen days since Thor – his so-called "brother" – brought him back to Asgard. His arrival was silent. Nobody waited for them. There were no bystanders and no Odin All-Father looking down upon him. He'd expected more of a crowd to come and see the kind of monster he'd turned into during such a short period of time.

Instead, there were no sneers and no people to look disgusted at him for what he had done. Only the ever-vigilant Heimdall stood nearby, guarding the end of the bridge. The man did not even glance in his direction.

He was transported quickly to the jails, placed in the underbelly of his former home. And that is where he was now, still awaiting his trial, or rather, his death sentence. Under normal circumstances, Odin swiftly judged those of his people who had committed a crime. But then again, he really was not one of Odin's "people." The All-Father had lied all these centuries to his beloved citizens; he had lied, and they all believed him.

He had believed him.

But not anymore.

He'd spent all this time being called the younger brother, all this time being second and not being good enough to be deemed a "true warrior." Throughout it all, he had just been looked down upon by Odin, for being the kind of monster parents tell their children about before going to bed.

Anger flared up in his mind by these thoughts and he willed his body to change. He had had this experience before and the shackles with which he was bound shielded his most powerful magic. He could still change his form into that of a frost giant, even restrained as he was, yet he could not bear this sickening blue skin. To know this is what he always had been - a vile frost giant like his real father, Laufey - he laughed thinking about it. Laufey had forsaken him as a baby and Laufey and his kind deserved to die just like Odin and Thor deserved to die now. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see that ugly wretched shade of blue on his skin. After a while, his skin changed back to the colour of normal flesh, the deep dark blue lines that traced his body fading. His heart rate sped up for a moment, his brows frowning from the concentration it took him to change. A drained feeling soon followed and he felt himself slip away into unconsciousness.

He opened his eyes and groaned at a feeling like his head was being split in two. He looked around and saw soft rays of light coming from the barred windows and leaving a striped shadow on the ground. Sluggishly, he lifted himself from the floor and stood up, leaning against the wall. "Another day in boredom," he sighed, wondering if they were just going to leave him there to slowly waste away.

The cell itself was square and beige, one of the most uninteresting colours on the spectrum, if you could even call it a colour. There were no comforts, only a tiny window and the floor to function as a bed. So far, he'd been brought water and gruel every couple of days. His only comfort was that they'd left him in his normal attire instead of forcing him to change into prison garb. Perhaps it was a benefit of once being royalty.

How utterly humiliating to be left here when he was a god! To be left in this solemn place to rot!

He gritted his teeth. He would find a way out of here, no matter how long it took to escape this "shit hole," as the ants tended to call these places. Perhaps he could play a sympathy card on one of the guards or on Thor, if his "brother" ever came to check on him. Thor always did have a weak spot for him that could be exploited, but no, Loki would refuse that, asking him even if it all was just a lie, a pretend game to escape this place. His pride would not be lowered to that level. If he ever was to face Thor and Odin, he would lift his head and look them in the eyes directly; he would make sure to not face away. Instead, he would stare with intense burning hatred.

His green eyes shimmered at the thought. Oh, how they would be repulsed by it! Those Asgardians would hate him even more when he showed them no regret for his actions.

In the distance, he heard footsteps. There were at least three people walking down the stairs and into the main corridor of the prison. He heard them mumble his name, followed by the sound of a key turning in the rusty slot. Moments later, two figures entered his cell. The third guard closed the door behind them and locked it, barring him again from freedom. He smiled devilishly at the men.

"So the All-Father has granted me an audience? How kind of him," he spit the words out venomously. The guard with bulky shoulders grabbed the back of his neck and forced his head backwards. The other guard put a metal gag on his face and fastened it at the back.

He hated not being able to speak. He wanted to be ruthlessly defiant. He wanted all of Asgard to know that they had always been fed lies. Breaking the trust people had in the All-Father would give him a wonderful feeling of accomplishment. Now that objective had been taken away, but they would not take away his dignity or pride.

The third guard opened the door again and he was shoved towards the exit. A long chain was clipped onto his shackles and they started dragging, pushing, and pulling him. Or, at least, that's what he figured they'd wanted. Instead, he raised his gagged head and pulled the chains straight, causing the guard in front of him to stumble. As he made himself stand straight and tall, he snorted derisively at the guards. Strength and bulking muscles were something he might not have, but he was tall, taller than most Asgardians.

"Small, weak, and puny for a frost giant," he heard a whispering voice say in his head.

He shook off the awful feeling it gave him as he walked up the stairs. Light illuminated the large doorway to the castle's entrance.

He stood before the grand door, the door to the throne room. Already he could hear faint whispering behind it and the rustling of clothes and armour. It seemed like the All-Father had gone all out for his trial. After all, it was his fate that was to be decided. He was not beloved nor would anyone grieve over him, but curious everyone must be for the outcome of his trial.

One of the guards gave a nod and the doors to the throne room opened. The light coming from the room glittered gold and made him blink. As they adjusted, he could see the inside of the room filled with people he'd known or seen around before – warriors, both male and female, clad in their best armour, and some others important enough to be here. At the end of the room sat the All-Father on his throne. His wife and Thor stood by his side.

"Come forward, Loki Odinson!" bellowed the loud voice of Odin. Loki glared at the All-Father. The impudence that Odin must have to dare name him son! ODINSON! He hissed in anger at Odin and Thor. He would show them THEIR Odinson. Smirking evilly, he concentrated and willed his form to change.

Walking forward, he felt his body change. His eye colour turned from its usual brilliant deep emerald into a dark bloody red. He felt deep blue lines shape and form on his face before moving downward over his entire body. No matter how disgusted he was by this loathsome form, he felt compelled to finally show everyone the truth. Swallowing the upcoming bile, he continued to break the All-Father's lie.

His skin was a deep blue colour now and he heard gasps of shock from the crowd. The guard in front of him turned around to see what was happening. He felt the chains slip out of the guard's hands but he kept walking forward, dragging the loosened chains behind him. Thor looked away. His must have broken his "brother's" thoughts about his redemption and the two reuniting to live happily-ever-after in Asgard.

It felt like the air around him grew colder and more menacing. He liked menacing. He arrived at the throne and stood on the first step, refusing to kneel before the All-Father. He threw Odin a look which clearly said, "I am not YOUR son."

"I see that you are not willing to mend your wrongdoings." Odin let out a deep sigh and looked at him with pity. Loki wasn't prepared for that. He could deal with the whispering behind his back and the looks of utter disgust, but pity was something different, something he did not want to be given.

Loki's glare faltered as Odin rose from his throne and walked toward him. Odin began stripping him of his armour. "I still regard you as my son, therefore, you will not be executed on this day. Instead, you will be stripped of your magic and immortality. From this day on, you will be banished from Asgard to live and die on Midgard."

Loki stood there, powerless. He had prepared for punishment, for execution, or even being locked away for eternity, but not this, not being ridiculed and made into one of the lowly ants that could easily be crushed by the heel of a boot! To live and die like one of them! How humiliating.

He felt his body slip from reality. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he felt himself being pushed away.

With a loud smack he fell to the ground. It was dark and grey outside in the city illuminated by artificial lights. He managed to sit up against a wall, holding his right shoulder where he'd landed on it. He felt a throbbing pain before his surroundings turned black and he fainted.

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