☆RUIN |

I

There he was, sitting in Gladsheim, the hall of the assembled Æsir and Vanir. Odin's hall.

He felt much like a statue, being largely ignored as his brother boasted of his feats of great valour. The room itself was stunning really and the guests themselves seemed to be basking in the greatness so often hidden from them.  After all, the palace and throne room itself were usually closed off to the commoners, lest they sought a convening audience with the All-Father.

But for today Gladsheim was open. And it would remain so until the feasting had ended.

How appropriate though, a hall named after his adoptive father.  The showcasing of his endeavours too, as expected they adorned every orifice in the room.  Brought up from the trophy room to allow for people to admire his battle winnings.  They were rather coveted on nights such as these.

Yes, Loki knew it to be typically grandiose and opulent.  Synonymous with Asgard in fact.  But then, he also knew that it wasn't likely something that would be afforded to himself.

Loki would only ever be known as the spoilt cruel prince who sought barbaric retribution on lesser realms with poorer civilisations for familial sleights against him.  He was to be known as the one who should have been king but was swept aside, as the relic.

So there he stood, cast aside, in favour of the blonde god, this blonde haired, blue eyed God of thunder, the one who was currently making a spectacle of himself in front of Freyja and Sif.

Informally, Loki had called his brother a brutish and witless oaf.  Unashamedly, to his face too.   But despite that purposeful humiliation, he did care for the lumbering fool who was set to be Asgard's future king.  For one reason really: Loki had apparently shown true compassion on Svartalfheim toward him, the act of self-sacrifice duly got his sentence reduced and eventually at Thor's bidding, revoked in entirety. And this was all in spite of his previous verbalised criticisms of what Thor's impending rule would likely bring to Asgard, the realm eternal.

The brunette was the only one rolling her eyes, smiling in response to his antics. She had enjoyed his company so much she had actually joined his side midway through the feast and spent the rest of the time sitting upon his lap. Much to the protestations of Fandral, who seemed most put out by the vulgar displays of affection, wishing he had wooed her as his own conquest before Thor had the chance. Loki scoffed at Fandral's disdainful glances, the poor sot would have to pay for the privilege tonight. Unless he could find a willing maiden to find comfort with and warm his cock with.

The younger Prince turned to see the All-Father as timeless as ever, sitting and looking too comfortable on his throne of gold.  Set against the backdrop of Asgard prime.  The seat to his side was empty, always empty now, save for a flower from Frigga's eternal garden.

Loki, as usual sighed. Again he had been largely ignored. His idea of council with Queen Karnilla was cast aside in favour of training with the Einherjar.

He impatiently tapped his feet on the black marble floor, licking his lips in disgust as he waited for Thor to stop gushing about his recent endeavours on the realm of Vanaheim, Freyja's own realm which was falling into poverty.

Why in the Gods name did the Vanir not want to assist with the battle in their own realm? Why the Norns, did they feel it necessary to ensnare Asgard into the process of realm hostility? Was the All-Father really that easy to coerce?

He thought on it more, maybe planning to test the theory for himself and before he knew it he was standing next to Odin, the All-Father.  He waited until he had stopped talking to Tyr, the commander of Asgard's E guard legion. One of Odin's lesser known children. "Father, a word if I may?" He spoke quietly, not wanting to rouse suspicion or bring much more attention to the dais. Loki found himself largely unsurprised when his father turned and gave him a steely gaze, one that said he would listen but his heart would not be in it.

"Speak Loki, I would afford my son the chance to utter his ideas for the assembled Gods to hear." He said gently, he was still smiling whilst holding a tankard of mead in his wrinkled old hand. His one eye observing and scrutinizing his adopted son, with just a hint of distrust.

Gritting his jaw. "Indeed," Loki smiled, his voice low enough for Odin to hear. The rest of his thoughts remained unspoken as they would be guaranteed to have him escorted from the hall.

"One only wished to reiterate the importance of said realm and peace treaties betwixt ourselves and the Norns kingdom to the north. I fear there is trouble afoot...." He was cut off by Thor's loud thunderous roar, it was more raucous laughter than anything but his voice carried across the room. The reverberating echoes cutting into Loki's thought processes.

"No, Loki.  I'll have you utter no more on it. I have said what needed to be said, the convention will be postponed until the threat has been dealt with."

"Threat? So you do know of one? " Loki frowned, raising his voice a little.  So Odin saw a chance to decimate another realm and control it when the inhabitants could not fight back?  Another hostile takeover, there really was no plausible threat or valour in taking over a realm who could not fight back. That was subjugation, at its most deplorable.

"Aye, you should know....Loki, you bring them frequently." Odin cast him a disappointed look, but said no more on it. Instead he raised his tankard and took a hefty glug of honey mead.

"Hardly my fault entirely.  I served my time. My covenant was agreed upon my assistance with the fall of Malekith. Surely you do not still hold that same grudge?"  Foolish old man..,

"Malekith did not fall, solely based on your actions. He fell because of a number of simultaneous events, one of which you contributed to, carelessly!"

Ouch, uncalled for.  "All-Father?" His lack of interest told Loki all he needed to know and he backed away slowly. Odin wasn't looking at him anymore, he was watching the group of Einherjar in front, drunkenly duelling for a show of strength. The victors of which battle, would be the ones accompanying the warriors three to Vanaheim in the early morn to secure Freyja's worthless throne.  Tomorrow then, maybe he would make his move on the All-Father.  Strip him of his memories altogether and cast him out.