Hey guys- I'm back. So I saw Thor a couple of days ago and fell COMPLETELY head over heels in to fangirl mode for Loki. TOM HIDDLESTON IS AN AMAZING ACTOR. 3 Need I say more?

So, after a quite a while, I've decided to start writing again :) 8th grade has been so hectic. We recently had a canned food drive. We got points for each can, and we could direct the points to one of three teachers. Whoever had the most points at the end had to wear a turkey costume for the whole school day! Needless to say, about 2/3 of all the points went to our awesome band teacher. There's actually a video of him doing the dougie in the turkey costume. Just look up "Turkey man does the dougie" and you should find it, lol.

This will be Loki's perspective of my favorite scene, hands down, in Thor. Keep in mind that Loki isn't the macho type like Thor- he always struck me as the type that would constantly need to be told he was loved, unlike Thor, who could just take it for granted. Enjoy and PLEASE REVIEW!

The Casket of Ancient Winters glowed a brilliant blue and hummed as Loki closed his pale hands around its cold exterior. He had to know. He had to know why he had not been burned, why the Frost Giant's blue color had bled onto his skin that day in Jotunheim. His breathing came in uneven gasps as he lifted the Casket from its pedestal.

Loki gazed into its blue-white center as his hands shook. He felt, no, he sensed the cold and the blue seeping onto his skin, crawling ever so slowly up his fingers and etching the Jotun patterns onto his hands. He watched in disbelief and with blurry vision as the blue traveled up and up.

"STOP!" a loud voice commanded. The voice belonged to Odin, his father. He'd been caught.

"Am I cursed?" Loki asked quietly. The cold and blue was still bleeding out of the Casket up his arms and across his whole body.

"No," his father answered firmly.

The blue continued to seep up onto his neck, covering his head. A faint rim of red lingered on the outside of his vision.

"What am I?" Loki replied. He set the Casket down with a resounding bang.

"You're my son."

Loki couldn't believe it. Even as his father saw him as he was this very moment, he still accepted him, cursed or not. He turned around and gazed at his father with red Jotun eyes.

"What more than that?" The blue was slowly disappearing, his skin turning pale once more. The Jotun symbols vanished. His vision was no longer rimmed by red.

Loki turned and walked shakily down the pathway, back to the stairs. "The Casket wasn't the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day, was it?" he asked with a quiet, wobbly voice.

His father said nothing as Loki continued to advance. His voice was quiet and filled with sorrow as he said, "No."

Loki came to a stop. He sensed his father would continue. He was very afraid of what his father would tell him, yet he still needed to know.

"In the aftermath of the battle, I went into the temple and found a baby; small for a Giant's offspring... abandoned, suffering, left to die." He paused. "Laufey's son."

The edges of Loki's very being felt as if they would tear away. Loki looked away from his father, into the fireplace. "Laufey's son," he said, his voice shaking. The connection formed in his brain. As soon as Odin touched the child, he would slowly turn pale and become human. Loki was filled with revulsion. He was not just a Frost Giant; he was the son of the King of the Frost Giants, a crown prince. He looked back to his father with pain in his eyes.


Dread filled Loki. His breathing became more shallow, and he looked around frantically. "Why?" he demanded, looking his father in the eye. Odin looked very disturbed and unwell. "You were knee-deep in Jotun blood! Why would you take me?"

"You were an innocent child," said Odin unconvincingly. His eyes showed sickness and nausea.

"No," Loki replied, adrenaline shooting through his veins. The instinct to flee, to run, to get away from everything he knew tugged at his limbs. He felt as if he could not get enough breath. "You took me for a purpose. What was it?" he demanded.

Odin simply gazed at his son, his skin becoming pale and his form shaking. He did not speak.

Loki snapped.

"TELL ME!" he screamed, a lump rising in his throat.

Odin still stared at Loki, but began to speak. "I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day... bring about an alliance, bring about permanent peace... through you."

Loki stared, unbelieving. His vision became blurry and his face contorted into one of shock, one of hurt. He tried to force these feelings down, to be strong, but he couldn't. He was no more than a proxy, then, just an object to be used and then done away with. He tried to speak, but all he managed was an almost silent, choked "What?"

"But those plans no longer matter," his father continued.

Loki's jaw dropped open in shock. He wasn't even of use. He stared at his father with cloudy vision, utterly betrayed.

"So I am no more than another stolen relic," choked Loki, tears beginning to run down his face, "locked up, here until you might have use of me?" He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow.

"Why do you twist my words?" Odin sighed.

"You could have told me what I was from the beginning! Why didn't you?" Loki gasped. His breathing still did not come properly, and his voice was contorted by the lump that refused to vanish.

"You're my son," said Odin quietly. "I wanted only to protect you from the truth."

'How could he keep such a secret from me?' Loki thought as the tears slowly streamed down his face. 'Did he really assume that I would tell such an evil secret to everyone I knew, to let them find out that I was a monster?'

Loki's very heart seemed to crumble. "What, because I- I- I- I'm the monster who parents tell their children about at night?" he stammered. Then a horrible thought hit him; it all made sense. Loki knew why Thor was always the one practicing sword fighting with his father, while he had to resort to the shadier citizens of Asgard to teach him magic and trickery. Loki knew why Thor was always the one spending time with Odin, while he was holed up in the library all day, learning all he could. He knew why he was always the second-best.

"No," Odin said. He sunk to his knees onto the steps, but Loki, blinded by rage and fury and tears, did not notice or care. "No." He advanced forward toward his father.

"You know, it all makes sense now," Loki seethed as angry tears carved their way down his face, "why you favored Thor all these years- because no matter how much you claim to love me, you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne of Asgard!"

Odin had collapsed. He sagged against the stairs and simply laid there, the stress of it all finally taking its toll.

Loki's fury shrunk down as he finally noticed his father's weak form. His eyes shone in the flickering firelight, and his hands shook as he tentatively bended down over him. His father, the king of Asgard, had fallen into Odinsleep, to regenerate, to revitalize.

Loki placed his hand on Odin's wrist, looking down at him with sorrow. "Guards!" he yelled. "Guards, please, help!" His voice cracked as two sentries burst through the golden doors. They scrambled down the steps and hefted Odin into their arms as Loki backed away slowly.

As soon as the golden doors shut, Loki backed away until his back hit a wall. He knew now why he was always the underdog, the outsider, the loner. He rested his head against the stone wall and let his shaking knees collapse. He bit his lips to keep from screaming. He shook as tears streamed down his face.

'All I am is a stolen relic.'

heh. Okay, good, bad, or just plain awful?