Chapter Text
He was Loki, and he was burdened with glorious purpose…
At least, that’s what the Allfather had been telling him since he had the ability to comprehend the words of his Aesir captors. In the beginning, Loki never questioned what that purpose may have been, he never felt the need to. After all, why raise any unnecessary questions when there was no need? That was what Frigga had been teaching him for all of those years, and for centuries, Loki had taken her words to heart. There was no need to raise any fuss when all of his needs were met, he was tutored privately in the histories of the realms by the scholars of Asgard, and he was treated amicably by the servants of the palace.
There were a lot of things that Loki never questioned in those first few centuries. He didn’t wonder why he spent the majority of his days confined to his own private wing in the palace; not when he had his own chest of toys to play with, his own books to read, and Hulda, his nurse and one constant companion. He never thought to ask why he was only allowed access to Idunn’s gardens at night if he was covered in a cloak that hid his face or why he was flanked on all sides by members of the Einherjar. He never thought to ask why he never saw any of the other children of Asgard. He never wondered why he was always so alone.
He could sometimes hear the laughter of children from the window of his chambers, but he never saw their faces. He’d tried, once, to peer out of his window in order to see the other children, to confirm that he wasn’t alone. As he opened the window, though, Hulda had screamed and pulled him away, telling him that he must never do such a thing again. Loki never questioned Hulda, for she was the closest thing that he had known to a mother. He had trusted that she was only looking out for him.
Though most of his childhood was lonely, he can’t claim that it was completely terrible. When he wasn’t playing with Hulda, he was tutored privately by Mimir and Kvasir, two members of the Aesir council who taught him knowledge of the runes and the wisdom of the nine realms. He was visited weekly by the queen herself, lovely Frigga. She would often dine with him and show him the proper courtesies that were expected of him. He didn’t exactly know why they were expected of him, but Hulda had taught him to always respect and obey the words of the queen.
As Loki grew, Frigga had taken to teaching him other skills as well; the proper ways to walk, how to host his guests, how to properly groom himself, and, as he got older, how to maintain finances, settle arguments in legal feuds, and the various laws and regulations of Asgard. Loki didn’t understand why these things mattered so much, but he gave the queen his rapt attention, savoring in the approving smile that she would grant him when he had done something she liked. If he had done particularly well in their lessons, she would take him to her private weaving room, the one place where no one but the queen was allowed to enter. She promised to teach him her craft once he was old enough.
On very rare occasions, the Allfather himself would visit Loki’s chambers. The visits were few and far in between, lasting mere minutes, but even as a child, Loki knew the importance of them. Each time he would bow to Odin in the manner that Hulda and Frigga had taught him and stay silent unless directly spoken to by the king. The conversations were always the same. Odin would ask how Loki’s studies were faring, if there was anything that he required, and idle comments on how Loki had grown since his last visit.
Before leaving his chambers, though, Odin would always have Loki inspected. These inspections scared him at first, as he was ordered to strip bare before Odin’s one-eyed gaze. The king never touched him, though, but rather just looked over the boy’s pale skin and sometimes mutter that “it was still holding.” Loki never understood what he meant by that. At the end of the inspections, Odin would always kneel down and whisper into Loki’s ear that someday the boy would fulfill a great purpose for the realm of Asgard. He would tell Loki that his future was one of the most important in all of the nine realms. What he never told Loki, though, was what exactly that glorious purpose was. He never thought to question it.
Loki would not discover his purpose and importance to Asgard until his first flowering.
Even after all of the centuries that had passed, Loki remembers that morning very clearly. The orange glow of the morning suns had filtered through his window and shone onto his face. It wasn’t the light that had woken him, though, but rather the warmth of the sunlight on his skin.
He had always had a low tolerance for heat and would often become sick if he became overheated. As a babe, this had caused Hulda much grief as his nurse desperately sought ways to keep his temperature down; a difficult task to manage in the shining, golden realm of Asgard. There were many times in the early days when Hulda was certain she would lose Loki to fever, but the boy seemed persistent in his will to survive. Since then, Hulda ensured to always take precautions to keep Loki safe from the natural warmth of Asgard.
That morning, though, the rays of the twin suns infiltrated Loki’s room and his skin began to burn in his sleep. He woke quickly, tears already welling in his eyes from the pain, but they didn’t spill over until he looked down and saw that his white sleeping gown was stained with blood. He had jumped from his bed and found more blood soaking through the sheets and into the feather mattress. It was when he felt the sticky wetness on his thighs that he screamed for Hulda. His nurse answered his calls quickly and did all she could to calm the frightened boy. When he asked what was happening to him, though, Hulda told him that he needed to wash himself to clean the blood, then she would explain everything to him.
Loki remembers crying as he stripped off his sleeping gown and saw the dried blood on his skin. As he grabbed a cloth and scrubbed himself clean with water from the basin he heard voices coming from his bedchambers. The voices belonged to several of the serving women that he had met over the years. He couldn’t make out every word, but he heard Hulda’s voice giving them commands and the sound of sheets being ripped. When Hulda came into the washroom, she was followed by several other women carrying pales of lukewarm water. Hulda had Loki bathe before she began to explain what was happening to his body.
From her explanations, Loki gathered that his body had gone through a maturing stage, that this terrifying event was completely natural and that all of the women of Asgard must go through this change. Loki was confused by her explanation, though, as he was a male. Everyone referred to Loki as a male, he had the correct male parts, and if this were the case, he should not be experiencing a female flowering. Hulda had just looked at him with weary eyes and told him that she would not be the one to explain this to him. All she could do for him was assure him that the bleeding would end in a few days and provide him with devices she had made from sewing animal skins over small bundles of wool. She showed Loki how to wear them under his smallclothes in order to catch the blood and keep it from creating another mess. That was probably the most mortifying moment that Loki had ever experienced in his childhood.
Once Hulda had shown him what to do, the serving women who had bathed him began to groom him. This was unusual for Loki as only he and Hulda took care of his daily grooming. The women brushed and plaited his long hair, threading thin strings of silver into the long braid going down his back. One woman had Loki hold completely still as she applied dark lines of kohl around his eyes while another applied a fine powder to his skin, making his already pale complexion lighter. When they held the glass in front of him, Loki couldn’t help but be taken aback by his reflection. The green of his eyes were intensified by the kohl the woman had put on him and his skin looked like finely polished marble.
When the women were satisfied with his appearance, Hulda brought him back out into his chambers. The stained mattress was gone and on Loki’s chair there lay a gown he had never seen before. The majority of Loki’s wardrobe consisted of light tunics and loose breeches, and on the very few occasions, long skirts that Hulda had made for him when the heat became too much, but this was clearly women’s clothing. When he said as much to Hulda, she told him not to ask questions and that he must place the gown on.
Still confused by the meaning of everything, Loki stood still as the women dressed him carefully into the gown. The garment consisted of a dark green silken skirt that touched the floor in a puddle of fabric. A black silk tunic was pulled carefully over his head. The tunic stopped at the hem of the skirt and the fabric was cut low, as if to show the cleavage that he did not posses, and the sleeves dangled low on the underside of his wrists. Over the tunic the women placed a dark green corset with silver flowered embroidery. Loki whimpered as the women pulled the laces of the corset so tightly that he the air was expelled from his lungs. It seemed so much time had passed before their tortures were done and Loki was allowed to examine himself in the full-length glass. Again, he was shocked by his appearance. The gown he was wearing seemed far too extravagant in comparison to the simple red and gold surcoat dresses of the serving women and Hulda. The only other person he had seen dressed in this fashion was Frigga, but Hulda explained it was because of her royal status. So Loki had to wonder, why was he being made to dress as the queen?
“You look beautiful, my boy.” Hulda was looking at Loki with tears welling in her eyes. The corner of her lips were turned upwards slightly in a forced smile, but Loki could see that it did not reach her eyes. He knew then that she was hiding something from him.
“What is going on?”
Hulda didn’t answer him. Instead she stepped forward and produced a silver headpiece from behind her back. Careful not to disrupt one hair on Loki’s head, she placed the braided silver circlet onto his brow, the point of the circlet coming to rest on the center of his forehead. When it was done, Hulda wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye before leaning down to press a kiss to the boy’s cheek.
“Come,” she said as she pulled back, “they will be expecting you now.”
“Who will?”
“You are to be presented to the court now, Loki. All of Asgard will finally be able to see the jewel that the Allfather brought to our realm.”
“A-all of Asgard?”
Loki had long ago learned from his caretakers and tutors that Asgard was a thriving, golden realm with millions of inhabitants that consisted of royalty, high society, workers and common-folk. However, the only people Loki had ever known were a handful of servants, guards, his tutors, and the king and queen. For a long time, Loki had convinced himself that perhaps they were the only people who truly existed in this realm.
“Yes, but don’t be frightened, dear. No one will hurt you. They’ve been waiting for this day for a long time.”
Finally, Loki had to ask. “Why? Why am I doing this? What is so important about me?”
Hulda, though, did not answer him. She merely cupped his cheek, telling him all would be revealed in due time. Loki didn’t understand, but he could not argue with her as she pulled him along and out into the main hall where they were greeted by five members of the Einherjar. Everyone remained silent as they marched the boy through the palace corridors to the throne room where much of Asgard’s population had gathered to finally catch even a fleeting glimpse of the boy who had been locked away for so long.
For Loki, though, his silence was one of awe. In all of his centuries as a ward of the king, he had never seen this part of the palace before. The boy was accustomed to the gilded walls of the palace from what he had been allowed to see, but as the group moved further along, the golden walls adorned only by metal sconces gave way to giant, brilliantly colored tapestries that stretched throughout the hallways.
As they walked, Loki absorbed the sight of the tapestries as much as he could when he realized that the weavings were telling the story of the nine realms. The dark weavings began with the endless void Ginnungagap, bordered by the realm of ice, Niflheim, and the realm of fire, Muspelheim. Moving along he saw the giant Yimir and his son being nourished by the cow Audumla. From Yimir’s image, there came more large creatures, blue in their skin tone with eyes the color of blood. Loki knew them to be the Frost Giants of Jotunheim, but Kvasir and Mimr had always been vague on their lessons of that particular race. The group moved along and the weavings depicted three men killing the giant Yimir, using the giant’s body to create the glorious Yggdrasil and the remainder of the nine realms. Loki recognized the figure of the young man seated on the throne of the newly constructed Asgard, though in this picture, the king had possessed both eyes.
The boy’s eyes grew wide with wonder as the histories were laid out in such exquisite detail. The creation of Askr and Embla, the first humans of Midgard; the three wells of the Norns at the roots of the world tree; the creation of the Bifrost bridge which connected Asgard to the various realms; on and on it went until the weavings began to tell simpler stories. Loki once again saw images of the Allfather seated on his Hlidskjalf, though this time he was accompanied by a beautiful woman seated equally at his right side. It took Loki a moment before he recognized the woman to be Frigga, as the image was so old, she looked to be barely older than Loki himself. The remaining tapestries focused more on the royal couple, some with them seated in their glory, others with the two holding up a child with golden hair… Loki never knew that Frigga had a child.
Suddenly, the images grew darker in both color and depictions. They portrayed the humans of Midgard being slaughtered by the giant blue creatures, one of whom bore in his hands a large casket. The Allfather appeared later in the tapestry, seemingly challenging the giant who wielded the casket. A great battle was portrayed for several yards of the weaving, until finally the giant was shown in a pose of supplication underneath Odin who was brandishing Gungnir. The Allfather was then shown to be standing victorious, flanked by the soldiers of the Aesir as he held high above his head the blue casket of the giant. And then… the tapestries ended. Not for lack of space, though, as the entourage was still making their way through the large corridor. Rather, it seemed that this story was not over just yet. Idly, Loki wondered if it was Frigga who had made these beautiful tapestries. He had seen her at her craft before, and she had promised to show him how to do it as well.
It was several more minutes before they reached giant double doors. More of the Einherjar were waiting for them there, but they said nothing as they fell into line behind the current procession. Only two remained to open the doors for the group, and when they had, Loki was blinded by the intense light of the room. Loki almost fell back from the awful glare burning into his retinas, but Hulda was there to catch him, whispering in his ear that he would be alright. It was a long time until Loki’s eyes adjusted to the light, but even so they had still burned. The room, much like the other halls of the palace, was made of pure, polished gold. However, on the left, the wall of the great throne room was removed, leaving nothing but an open courtyard that let in both the blinding light of Asgard’s suns, as well as thousands of its inhabitants who had come to witness this day.
Loki was terrified by the sight of so many people after so long in his isolated childhood. Though he had always wished to see more of the palace where he was kept and discover the realm which he called home, he was suddenly wishing for nothing more than to crawl back into his bedchamber and believe that it was only he and Hulda in the world. His nurse, however, had other plans.
“You must walk, Loki,” she told him firmly. “You do not have to look at them if you don’t want to, but you must walk forward. The Allfather is expecting you.” She motioned forward where Loki saw Odin standing before Hlidskjaf, looking down over his public.
Loki swallowed down a lump in his throat and gave the only reply he could, a simple nod of his head. As a child, words were never his strong suit; that would come later in his life. At that moment, though, he was just a frightened boy trusting in the only mother he had ever known and the royal couple who had given him shelter for all of those years. So Loki takes a brave step forward, then another, and another still, until he is walking mechanically at a steady pace towards the Allfather.
From all around, Loki could hear whispers from the many witnesses surrounding him on all sides. Words like ‘small,’ ‘graceful,’ and ‘fair’ were intermingled with words like ‘giant,’ ‘whelp,’ and ‘monster,’ leaving Loki more confused than any other event that had transpired. The boy just remembered to keep breathing steadily like Hulda showed him how to do whenever he felt overwhelmed. Whenever he felt frightened, he just remembered to breathe and focus on what was important, and then nothing would seem so scary. At that moment, what was important was just making it through the throne room and up to where the Allfather was waiting. When he looked up towards his end destination again, he noticed that Frigga was there as well. The queen smiled warmly down to him, and he felt that perhaps he could make it through this after all.
Loki kept his breathing steady all the way to the steps of Odin’s seat, where Frigga stepped down to greet him. She kissed both of his cheeks lightly before taking him by the arm gently to lead him up. Odin, for his part, remained standing where he was, his one eye looking out straight.
“You look so lovely, dear Loki,” Frigga whispered gently to him. “Asgard has been waiting so long for this day.”
“Waiting for what, exactly?”
“Silence, dear,” she shushed. “All will be explained momentarily.” Her words did nothing to lessen the boy’s confusion.
There was the sound of a thundering crash and the crowd exploded in a roar of applause. Loki jumped at the deafening noise, his heart beat wildly in his chest as the people began chanting a single word. “Thor! Thor! Thor!”
“He always did like to make an entrance,” Frigga said close to Loki’s ear.
“Who?”
The queen smiled and pointed towards the entrance way that Loki had just come through. Walking towards them was a young man dressed in silver armor and a flowing crimson cape. The man was waving and smiling brightly to his adoring crowd as he raised a large hammer above his head. Loki didn’t know who this man was, but the audience most certainly seemed to love him. The man continued his march towards the throne, not once looking up to the king and queen, but rather waving his arms and strutting about like a bird displaying its plumage.
As he got closer, Loki took the chance to take in his features. He was a large man, his body comprised mostly of muscle mass, giving him a more aged appearance. His face, however, still had the round cheeks of a youth. His jaw was pointed and would no doubt become more prominent with age. Light stubble littered his jaw-line where soon a beard would begin to grow, but for now it would be some time before it came in fully. Beneath his silver helm, Loki saw golden hair that reached down to his shoulders. Golden hair that was the same color as the queen’s.
It is only when he was standing at the base of the steps of Hlidskjaf that he gave one last bow to the public and turned to face Odin and Frigga. Only then did the familiar hush return to the crowd and Odin took a step forward.
“Citizens of Asgard,” the Allfather’s voice boomed out, vibrating through the throne room. “It was not so many years ago when all of the nine realms faced a threat like no other. Laufey, King of Jotunheim, with the Casket of Ancient Winters set out to conquer Midgard, threatening the lives of the defenseless mortals. Laufey sought to make himself and the frost giants supreme rulers of Yggdrasil… The Frost Giants had forgotten their place.”
The crowd cheered at the king’s words while Loki simply watched, trying his best to take it all in. He only knew vaguely of the war Odin was talking about. Kvasir had mentioned it once in his tutoring sessions, but he had never broached the subject further than that. The boy wondered why this was relevant now, and what this all had to do with his morning blood.
“Through much suffering and death, mighty Asgard prevailed in the war against the Frost Giants and exiled them back into their realm of ice and darkness.” Another loud cheer erupted from the crowd, causing Loki’s ears to ring.
“In his defeat, King Laufey gave over his two most precious possessions. The Casket of Ancient Winters and his first born, the crowned prince of Jotunheim, Loki Laufeyjarson.”
Loki only vaguely remembers what the Allfather said after that. His heart had stilled in his chest and his thoughts began racing. Frost Giant. Son of Laufey. Prince of Jotunheim. Loki’s first reaction was to look down at his hand. The skin there was a pale white, free from any single blemish or freckle. It didn’t make any sense. In the tapestries, the Frost Giants were shown to be blue and scarred, with eyes the color of blood. But Loki’s eyes were green, his skin was the fairest of anyone that he knew. He couldn’t be a Frost Giant. He couldn’t!
It didn’t even register to Loki that the young man in the crimson cloak had moved until he was standing directly in front of him. Bright blue eyes bore intensely into Loki as they raked over the boy’s body. Loki felt a tremor go through his body. The young man began to smile at him, tight lipped and forced, showing the wrinkles of his dimples which any other person would have found charming, but Loki remained tense. The young man’s hand reached forward and Loki flinched, but Frigga’s firm hand on his back kept him from retreating. The young man took one of Loki’s hands in his own before he raised it to his lips, placing a light kiss on his knuckles. Once again the crowd cheered their approval.
“Thor Odinson, crowned prince of Asgard,” Loki’s head jerked to the side when he heard Odin’s voice. The king had stepped forward, a warm smile gracing his features as he placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder-- on his son’s shoulder. “It is through the princes of this realm that an eternal peace will finally be found.”
The young man-- Thor, smiled brightly at his father before he pulled Loki forward out of Frigga’s embrace to stand beside him and face the adoring crowd. Loki simply stood there frozen in his shock as the prince raised his arm high in the air as a sign of triumph, eating up the crowd’s applause. When he released Loki’s hand, he stepped behind the boy and Loki felt something being placed over his head. Thor was placing a necklace over him. The cool feeling of metal hit his sternum. Looking down, the boy saw a metal pendant dangling around his neck from a silver chain. The pendant was intricately crafted with knots and whorls that Loki swore he saw glowing with a faint green light. The pendant itself looked reminiscent of the hammer that the other prince was seen carrying. It was a symbol of his chosen weapon. Loki’s eyes scanned the people around him before they landed on Hulda. The woman simply gave him a resigned look and a thin lipped smile, and suddenly, everything fell into place in Loki’s mind.
All of the things he never questioned in his life suddenly began to make sense. His isolation, his tutoring of the histories and politics of the realms, Frigga’s lessons on keeping a household and weaving, his inspections by Odin, every little part of his life that led to this moment began to take on a much more important meaning. That combined with the new revelations concerning his identity helped Loki to realize what was going on, why he had been treated so differently that morning and paraded out to the people of Asgard. He was not a ward of the royal family; he was their captive and he had been groomed for this moment, the moment when he would take what was seen as his rightful place. As he began to comprehend exactly what was happening, all of his confusion gave way to an intense anger, coiled into the pit of his stomach like a hissing snake. The scenery around him-- the people, the noise, all of the golden glory of Asgard-- faded away from his senses and all he saw was red.
Loki had finally learned his purpose. And it was horrifying.