All Loki had ever wanted was to be Thor’s equal, from the time they had been small children, he had longed for the same attention that Thor had gotten from both Odin and Frigga and everyone else in Asgard. Frigga took the time to bond with him and taught him the tricks that he now used as a mask, and there was always a special place in her heart for Loki but Thor was her son, she had birthed him. There was a bond there that could not be touched.
Loki took a steady breath and looked across the throne room, so grand and large…and empty. For three centuries now, Loki had ruled under the disguise of the Allfather and no one challenged him. Heimdall couldn’t see through though he had grown more distant, the Warrior’s Three and Sif served him with undying loyalty and the people of Asgard showered him with respect, love and again loyalty. Something that Loki had never received from them before or anyone really. Except for Thor. Loki shook his head and pushed the thought out of his mind. He had not seen Thor in years, the last time had been after Jane’s death. Thor had returned and stayed for a few weeks before he had disappeared with his friends to calm chaos in Vanaheim. When they returned, Sif explained that Thor had stayed behind. Later, Heimdall told him that Thor had returned to Midgard.
At first, without Thor, Loki had been beyond ecstatic. If anyone could see through his disguise it was Thor but his older fake brother was gone on a different realm, not caring whether or not it was Loki in his father’s place. But as time passed, Loki found that he was lonely, and in a way miserable. Despite the newfound respect, there was no one for Loki to truly talk to. No one for him to confide in, to confess that perhaps the throne was not something that was suited for him. The life was hard; often times not forgiving and it wore down on Loki’s bitterness until all that was left was a raw wound where pain was constant. He understood now that Thor and Odin were right, the throne was costly and perhaps not such an elegant place. But all Loki had to do to wipe away such thoughts was remember the time before, when Thor treated him as though he were below him. That was enough to make Loki find his throne comfortable again, except this time.
Three centuries was an awfully long time to be alone.
“Allfather, sire,” a guard said, his chest rising and falling rapidly from running.
Loki straightened and used Odin’s powerful voice, “What is it?”
“Thor had returned, and he brought someone. She is mortal…or we think she is,” the guard said, stumbling over his words.
“You think she is?” Loki narrowed his eyes. They were mortal or not, simple and easy as that.
“Well, she has the mortal aura but…it’s not usual,” the guard shook his head, and said more confidently, “Either way, your orders were not to let a mortal within Asgard without your permission. Thor will not leave her and although we are not entirely sure what she is, the mortal trace is enough to keep her contained. Heimdall is with Thor and the woman now.”
“I will be there soon,” Loki said, waving his hand in dismissal. What did this mean that Thor had brought a mortal to Asgard? Last time he had brought Jane because she had been infected with the Aether, did this mortal have the same sort of ailment? And did she have Thor’s heart as well? Whatever the reason was, Loki stood, trying to find the wicked glee of tricking Thor again but, much to his surprise, he couldn’t find it. Only numbness.
-
Loki strode into the Bifrost with half a dozen guards flanking him. The Warrior’s Three and Sif were already there, standing at attention though the slight blush on Sif’s cheeks informed Loki that they had been laughing and jesting with Thor just minutes ago. Thor stood there, his cape as red as blood still, his armor was silver and polished though he wore his causal armor that exposed his arms. The battle armor was not to be seen. Thor looked the same, having not aged like Loki in the centuries but there was a weariness in him, a wisdom and pain that gave Loki pause. He had gone through something, something that had broken him terribly and although he was together, there were pieces missing. This tugged at Loki’s heart, Thor – for all his faults – had always been one to overlook the bleakest situation and draw a smile from anyone. If he had lost that, Loki mourned it. It was what had saved him from Loki’s wrath time and time again.
Beside Thor was a woman, she was not tiny like most women, she was near Sif’s height and held the same fierceness in the war goddess. Her hair was a golden wave that rippled down her back and over her shoulders. She wore boots, jeans and a tank top that exposed her toned arms. Her skin was sun-kissed, her body not curvy but not manly either. But it was her face that startled Loki; she was beautiful, as beautiful as an Asgardian woman, nay a royal Asgardian woman. Like Frigga…in fact Loki could swear that she beheld the same beauty as his adoptive mother. Though the girl didn’t have blue eyes – they were a pale green – she looked like a twin of Frigga.
Loki looked at Thor, startled and he asked, “What is this?”
“Father,” Thor’s voice was deeper than before, again from some unknown tragedy that had befallen him. “This is Amora; s-she is my daughter.”
“Daughter?” Loki stared at Thor in shock. “You sired a child with a mortal?”
“Yes,” Thor looked down. “Amora is half Aesir, which means that she has as long a life as us. After her mother died, I decided to bring her here. Home.”
Loki narrowed his eyes, “And why should I allow you to bring her within Asgardian walls?”
“Because she is family,” Thor looked at her and smiled. “And she could be your second chance.”
“At what?” Loki was startled, what had Odin screwed up?
“At Loki,” Thor replied evenly.
Loki was so surprised he was speechless but when he looked at Amora and this time really looked, he saw it. The mischievous gleam in her eyes and he could feel the magic coursing through her veins, Thor had made her a witch. Much like Frigga. Loki looked up, startled as he stared at Thor. He remembered Thor holding his astral projection, screaming and crying as Loki “died” but then he had moved on. He had made a moving speech the day he left for Midgard but that was all, Loki hadn’t thought that his apparent “death” had left such an impact on Thor but apparently it had. Enough of an impact to last through three centuries and to teach his only child magic, and to bring her here in offering to his Father as a recompense for what he had done to Loki.
He took a deep steadying breath and said, “She is your daughter and therefore it is your duty to take care of her, I will take no part in raising her as though she is my own. She is a bastard, a witch and half mortal. But she has my blood in her veins and is granted access to Asgard.”
“Thank you Father,” Thor replied dipping his head.
“Thank you for you hospitality, Allfather,” Amora dipped her head. Her voice was so beautiful it sounded as though she was on the verge of breaking into song. When she raised her head, her lips did not move but Loki still heard her voice, I see through your illusion Loki. I thank you for withholding your hatred towards Thor and allowing me into this city. Her lips twisted into a wry smirk.
There was nothing he could say as he watched Thor walk with Amora out of the Bifrost, flanked by his friends. The girl had seen through his magic, and she now had power over him and she knew it too. Loki cursed softly and turned away from Heimdall, striding in the shadow of Thor. The golden family of Asgard always had a way unknowingly of screwing up his plans. Always.