Chapter 1

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!Warning: anyone that knows my writing will know things are going to get pretty explicit. If that's not for you, I wouldn't read this story!

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I've had enough, Loki thinks to himself before slamming the door behind him. It's the same thing it always is. Father siding with Thor. Mother not saying a word. How do they expect him to help bring about change in the world if no one listens? Useless fools.

It's one thing after another with them. No, he's not of their blood. But he's still part of this family, isn't he? His voice is still meant to count. That's what Mother constantly spouts anyway. "What a joke."

Ignoring the frowns of passers-by, Loki storms through the palace's vaulted hallways and away from the throne room. As soon as he reaches the darkness of his quarters, the horns of his helmet fade and he yanks off his armour, leaving behind green leather trousers and a white shirt. What am I to do? They're driving me insane.

The thought suddenly occurs to him that he could get away, leave Asgard for a while. But where would he go? It's not like he could return to Jotunheim. People know of him now—who he is. And plus, he's on the in-between. Essentially half-Asgardian, half-Jotun. Maybe that's the problem. That's why I don't fit...I'm not fully part of anywhere...

Discarding all the other worlds in Yggdrasil, Loki's mind comes to rest on Midgard. He doesn't intend to set foot anywhere that people already know him. But there are other peaceful spots. The North, for example. He'd seen glimpses of these places. Places that mimic Jotunheim's chill while also enjoying beauty similar to that of Asgard.

The more he considers it, the more the thought about Midgard becomes fixed. Loki snaps his fingers, conjuring a large bag and moving quickly around his bedroom to stuff different items inside. Daggers, clothes, boots, Midgardian money. What else? With a shrug, he sweeps his arm across the top of his dresser, scooping in everything he tends to use on a daily basis, including a couple of books. 

It's not long until the plan is fully formed and he's rushing from the room, disguising himself as a stranger before heading down to the Bifrost. Heimdall sees straight through him of course, but he expected nothing less. It's what the old man has to say that surprises him.

"This is a good idea, my Prince."

Still disguised, Loki frowns. "It...it is?"

"Indeed. Sometimes we all need some time to learn who we are to become."

Irritation fizzes in the space behind Loki's eyes. "I know exactly who I am, Heimdall. This isn't about that. It's about my feckless brother and father and their inability to see things past the end of their own noses. I don't need to learn anything about myself."

Heimdall only smiles. "Of course."

Before Loki knows what's happening, the Bifrost sword is sheathed tight into the switch and the colours around him are swirling. "You haven't even asked where I want to go!" shouts Loki through the sudden wind.

Heimdall doesn't reply, and before Loki can shout again, the Bifrost pulls him out of Asgard, shooting multicoloured light in every direction and propelling him onwards. It's seconds again before it stops, depositing him ankle-deep in something cold and wet. "What...the fuck..."

For a moment, he's completely blind, sending a slithery knot of terror through his stomach. Where am I?

It's only when his eyes begin to adjust to the darkness that he realises he's stood in a snowy forest—completely underdressed for the occasion and with no idea what to do from here.

"Nice one, Heimdall!" Loki shouts into the night sky. "Very bloody funny! Now, retrieve me at once."

Nothing happens. And after several moments, Loki growls low in his throat and kicks some of the snow out of his way. This is absurd. What does Heimdall think he's doing sending me to the middle of nowhere? How does he suppose this will teach me anything?

Turning in 360, Loki spots a halo of misty light through the trees and heads straight for it; the untouched snow swishing and crunching under his feet. The closer he gets, the more he picks up the sounds of wolves howling, which generally wouldn't bode well, but this is Midgard. He can handle himself if need be.

A path made entirely of compacted snow winds ahead, and he's so intent on following it—so intent on thinking of all the ways he's going to get back at Heimdall—, he doesn't hear the sound of something fast approaching. The sound of paws hitting a well-trodden track.

"Yoo-hoo!"

Loki whisks around, coming face to face with multiple blue-eyed beasts, their teeth gnashing, spittle flying as they pound to a halt. He's ashamed to say he shouts in surprise, jumping backwards and almost falling flat on his face. But he's even more embarrassed when a little old Midgardian man suddenly appears, laughing at him.

"Who in Odin's name are you?" Loki demands, realising the beasts are actually a pack of fluffy dogs—all strapped together in twos, pulling a sledge.

"Ah, you must be our last arrival," the man says, his eyes narrowing. "We wondered what happened to you. We did inform all scheduled visitors that the trip to the camp is treacherous. You should only take it by guide and dog-sledge."

Loki stares at the old man. He's speaking the same language, but he may as well not be. "What are you talking about? What camp?"

"My camp," the old man says as if that were obvious. "You came to stay in one of our glass igloos, yes? I can take you to my house where we will get you settled in."

Loki is baffled. A glass igloo? What is Heimdall playing at? Is this where he expects me to learn about myself. Regardless, his feet pull him forwards. "We?" he asks. "Who's 'we'?"

The man gestures to join him on the sledge, not hiding the fact it will be a tight fit. "My daughter and I," the man goes on. "We own and run the camp together. You will meet her. My name is Stefan. You're visiting alone?"

"Mm," Loki grunts, eyeing the dogs warily as he steps past. "What difference does that make to you, Midgardian?"

"No difference," says Stefan, waiting for Loki to secure himself on the sledge. "Though it helps to know how many provisions to give you."

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