Okay, so I've lately become quite enamored with Loki from Thor/The Avengers and this story has been kicking around in my head for a few days. I kind of wanted to a different sort of thing with him that what I've been seeing online; I think he deserves a girl that's his equal and isn't afraid to make him realize when he's being ridiculous. Anyway, that's the plan. This story is half based on the Thor/Avengers movieverse, and the mythology...and I guess half on my own imagination... so that's 3 halves, right? This first chapter might be a bit confusing, but it should sort itself out. This takes place before the Thor/Avengers movies, but the plots might twist ;) Please let me know what you think!

Chapter One: If One Isn't Causing Trouble on Accident, the Other Is on Purpose

The Allfather sighed as he stared into the void beyond the BiFrost, a troubled look etched on his ancient face. His agents and spies in the realms whispered that the Frost Giants of Jotunheim were mustering for war again and he knew in his wisdom that this war would not be one Asgard could fight alone. He had been sleeping next to the beautiful Frigga when the visions had come upon him: death, and blood, the world tree lying in ruins. No, Asgard could not fight this on their own, because the Frost Giants would not be on their own.

The real question was who to turn to?

He wearily trudged back to his Great Hall; he could feel the Odinsleep would soon be upon him, but perhaps he could put it off until the end of this crisis. Approaching the doors, he motioned for guard to come forward.

"Send for my sons, I have much to discuss with both of them."

King Theoderic of the Western Woods was the only elven ruler still living who remember what it had been like when there was just one great elven kingdom that covered all of Alfheimr. The glory of his people, their beauty and power was second only to the æsir of Asgard. But that alliance had been broken millennium ago by force too dark to think on. Instead, he now ruled but a fourth of the world, confined to the trees of the Great Forest.

He was burdened with grief; it showed as the weariness in his sapphire eyes and in the threads of silver running through is golden hair. He had lived too long, and confronted too much death; his father, elder brothers, his wife, his sons, all he had left was his daughter, Yevanna, the Iron-Maiden, who refused to take a husband.

But that was enough musing on the dreary for the day; he turned his attention back to the missive that he received earlier that week. It was sent by King Fulk of the Central Plains, a younger cousin of his whom he much respected. The letter was in regards to a message sent from Asgard, though what the Asgardians would want with elvenkind was beyond him. The Gods had turned their back on Alfheimr when they let evil spread strife and death throughout the land.

King Fulk of the Central Plains, Son of Aitus, Son of Fingole, to King Theoderic of the Western Woods, son of Fingole, son of Yngvi,

My Dear Cousin and Friend,

We have received message via the BiFrost that the Allfather will be sending two messengers in regards to an urgent matter. He invites all the Elvenkings to send their representatives or come in person. We do not know what this is in regards to, but we imagine that it is fairly serious. We hope to hear from our dear friend and cousin.

Theoderic had no intention of leave his kingdom at the beck and call of the Allfather, but he would send his own representatives. He looked up just as the large oak doors in the Hall of Trees burst open and Princess Yevanna strode in. She was clad in a long, blue and silver tunic that reached mid-thigh in the front and knee length in the back, under which she wore plain gray trousers tucked into black boots. At her hip was her sword Eld. Her red-gold hair was bound back in a braid, and her sharp features were animated with excitement.

"Father! I bring you the head of Urgrum, King of the Trolls, scourge of our southern border." She snapped her finger and two squires walked in, carrying a large silver plate with a grotesque severed head on it. The green diffused light from the tree ceiling made the skin a ghastly grey-green color. Yevanna beamed with pride.

"I cleaved his head from the body myself."

That made him smile; she was distinctly aware that she was his only heir, and as such, tried to make up for her gender by being fierce in battle and wise in council. He cast his eyes over the rest of her host; here in the shadows was his nephew, Beowulf, whom he knew some wanted him to choose as heir. The boy was reasonably able in combat, but he was deplorable when it came to cool-headed judgments.

"I am very proud of you, my daughter. We shall have a feast in your honor tonight. But now, I must discuss with you some urgent news." He waived all the attendants and soldiers away and motioned for her to seat herself in the smaller of the two thrones on the dais. Technically it was reserved for his queen, but she had died many ages ago and it was Yevanna's throne as heir now. She sat gracefully and rested her chin on a gauntleted hand.

"What can I do as service, Father?"

"Yevanna, I need you to travel to the great City on the Plains. King Fulk is hosting a council. There will be delegates from Asgard; you are the only one I can trust to exhibit fair judgment and represent our people gracefully."

Yevanna smoothed her hair back into a braid and fastened her cloak before heading to the stables. Her booted footsteps made no sound on the soft turf of castle floor and the gray light of dawn made the wooded tunnels almost gloomy, though truthfully, Yevanna could never think of her home as anything but beautiful. The palace complex of the Kingdom of the Western Woods was a living organism, sculpted and curved out of the very forest her father ruled. The walls were trees and shrubs, the floor was grass, and the ceiling branches. Best yet, it was impossible to find if you didn't know where to look.

She stepped into the stable yard and breathed in the crisp air. Dawn and dusk, the times between day and night where her favorite, magical in their ambiguity. The yard was busy with activity; servants loading up the horses, soldiers readying their gear. She saw her cousin, Beowulf, brushing down his horse and sighed. She had hoped he wouldn't be accompanying her, but alas, her father had thought it best to placate him and allow him to join the company. She just hope he would stay out of her hair if she needed to negotiate anything. Honestly, he acted as if he were heir to the throne, not her. Also traveling with her was the younger Theoderic, or Theo, her right hand man and captain of the guard. He was named in honor of her father, though they were not related.

"My lady, how fare you this morning?"

She smiled, "I am well, Theo, and yourself?"

"Well, Yeva. I am excited to venture beyond our borders; I have never been outside of the Woods."

She didn't mind his use of her nickname, Yeva, it made her feel as if she had friends when she heard it. Anyway, it was much better than the name Beowulf had given her: Iron-maiden. It was in mockery of her aloof disposition and unwillingness to marry, or rather more specifically, unwillingness to marry him. Beowulf had followed her since they were children, always claiming that one day they would rule the Western Wood together. It certainly grated on her nerves.

Yevanna mounted her horse and gave the order to ride out. It would take them nearly a week to reach the capital of the Central Plains, perhaps longer if they met any obstacles along the way, and she was eager to see which emissaries the Allfather choose to send to Alfheimr. Frowning, she realized that she would have to address them, whoever they were, by their real names. The elves never referred to the gods of Asgard by their given names, it was considered bad luck. Instead they were given titles: Allfather, Queen of Heaven, The Storm, Liesmith, the Warriors Three, and so on and so forth. She wondered what could be so terribly wrong that the gods were bothering to come to the elvenworld.

As they rode through the forest, she mused on the relation of the nine realms; according to her father, the Asgardians used to walk freely among all the realms, keeping things peaceful and dispensing justice. But soon the children of the realms started to grow up and demand freedom and to rule their own lands. Slowly the means of travel through the different world began to fall into disuse and many things once deemed important were lost forever. After the gods had left there was a golden age in Alfheimr, where her grandfather ruled over the entire world, but that too ended when Death and Sorrow entered through the void. Her father was still bitter with the Aesir for not aiding the elves during their crisis; perhaps that is why he chose to send her to this meeting. She could not harbor the rage he felt at the destruction of his world, as she had been born after the most of the fighting and carnage had settled. She really didn't have a clear picture of what had happened during that time, those who were still live that remembered didn't speak of it. All Yevanna knew was that it was a lot of death and the kingdom broke into four smaller kingdoms.

"Cousin, behold the great Citadel of the Central Plains." Beowulf pointed to a huge marble tower that twisted up from a large, sprawling city confined only by marble walls. The Plains elves had no nature to build their kingdom out of, like her father had. Instead, they lived out in the open, on a hill from which one could see miles in any direction. Where the elves of the Western Woods preferred stealth and preemptive attacks, the elves of the Central Plains preferred foresight and defense. The great gates of the city opened before them as the thundered through the city streets; the Citadel was where King Fulk held court and would be waiting for them. Yevanna wondered who else had arrived, though judging by the interested looks she and her men were getting from the general populace, she would wager they were one of the first groups to arrive.

The moment she had dismounted from her horse she had been whisked away by a page to Fulk's private antechamber off of the great hall. She sat quietly in a soft blue chair, waiting for the king to arrive. The doors clicked open and she stood, placing her hand over her heart and inclined her head.
"My lord, it is an honor to be in your fair city."

King Fulk was tall and stately, with chocolate brown hair and blue eyes. He was in muted earth tones of green and brown, except for the thick silver circlet he wore in his hair. She hadn't seen him in ages, not since she was very small. In truth, he did look older, though still handsome.

"Lady Yevanna, I trust your ride was well?"

"Yes, my lord, we ran into no obstacles, save for a few horses throwing shoes."

He motioned for her to sit as he took his seat opposite her. "Your father told you the details of this meeting, is that correct?"

"Yes sir. He gave me a copy of your letter. Though may I inquire as to which Asgardians the Allfather sent?"

Fulk laughed softly. "Still inquisitive as always, I see. Yes, the princes of Asgard are here: the Storm and the Liesmith."

"Oh! Well that's…interesting." She couldn't hide her surprise; things must be dire indeed for the Allfather to send both sons.

Fulk raised his eyebrow at her remark.

"Well, at least from the stories I've heard, if one isn't causing trouble on accident, the other is on purpose."

"That is a good way to describe them, but I wouldn't let anyone else hear you say that." She frowned, realizing her error in judgment.

"Do not worry; you will meet them at the banquet tonight and I think you'll find them both rather agreeable."

Loki (and Thor!) will be in the next one :)

Also, as a note about the names: for the titles I picked for the Asgardians, some of them are from mythology (Allfather, Liesmith) and some of them I just made up (Queen of Heaven, the Storm). As for the elf names, I tried to pick Germanic / Anglo-Saxon-y names, but mostly I just went with what I could remember from my early Medieval history class, so there were rulers named Theoderic (the Ostrogoth) and Fulk (of Anjou). Yevanna is a slightly changed version of Tolkien's "Yavanna" from the Silmarillion, who is the elf responsible for growing everything in Arda. Beowulf is from, well, Beowulf.

Anyway, let me know what you think. The next ones should be longer.