Of Cunning and Kinship || Loki x reader

Chapter three

When I'm king I will hunt the monsters down and slay them all!

Loki's head was spinning as he made his way to the lowest levels of the palace.

Even a Midgardian, a pitiful mortal, defied his position.

What was he?

Both of you were born to be kings.

He was the son of Odin. He was born to lead. He was worthy.

No, you are not.

Know your place, brother.

He could not lift Mjolnir. He travelled all the way to Midgard to prove himself, and he failed.

He was trained to defend his home from monsters - hideous creatures that lurked in a realm of darkness. He was more qualified than his brother; wise beyond his years. He would be a great ruler.

Thor is the heir to the Asgardian throne.

Silence!

He was being torn apart by conflict. He could hear every voice; see every memory of how he was a stranger among his people. Never favoured by Odin; never cherished by Thor's friends; never respected by his subjects. Unwanted. Unloved. Clarity had come to him ever since that cursed battle in Jotunheim.

Ever since that day, the prince felt he was reaching the edge of a cliff. He had desperately tried to convince himself that the source of his torment was a trick of his imagination. But the God of Mischief was too clever for that. If he were a fool, perhaps he could have lived his life in blessed oblivion. But a sorcerer could see behind any illusion.

His footsteps made no sound as he reached the pedestal inside Odin's vault.

What was he doing? Perchance it was just a hopeless attempt to deny his true nature. Even though he already knew the truth, he could not admit it. He did not want to. How could he be the same monster from the nightmares of his youth? How could he be the same creature he was taught to hate?

Feeling every hope inside his wrecked heart shatter, Loki grabbed the Casket of Ancient Winters.

He expected pain or cold.

He did not expect the instant thrill.

He felt it in his veins, rising from the place where he touched the box, consuming his entire body, changing every instance of his life, forever.

"Loki!"

The Frost Giant let go of the box gently, turning around to see Odin. His father by upbringing. His king. A liar. And when he looked down to the dark marbled stairs, he only saw the distorted, inhuman reflection with glowing red eyes.

"The Casket wasn't the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day, was it?" He started, slowly feeling the warmth return to his cheeks.

"No," the Allfather replied with caution, "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-

"Laufey's son"

Loki wanted to laugh. Madness bloomed in the creaks of his mind. "Laufey's son?"

"Yes," Odin answered quietly.

"Why? You were knee-deep in Jotunn blood. Why would you take me?"

"You were an innocent child."

Liar.

"No. You took me for a purpose. What was it?" Why? Why did he have to endure such torment? Odin always had a reason behind everything. "TELL ME!"

"I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day. Bring about an alliance, a permanent peace... through you. "