Chapter Text
Odin All-Father was tired. The empty eye socket ached badly and the cold was threatening to freeze him from the inside. Even so, he made his way into the temple. In search of the Casket of Eternal Winter. The war against the ice people, the Jotun, the Frost Giants, were over.
Just as he reached out his hand to grab the Casket a weak cry caught his attention. It was feeble, waning. Small. Seeking the source, the old man came upon a baby. Laid out almost bare on the cold stone. A babe small enough to fit in his arms, despite his blue skin. Swirling patterns revealed the boy's identity. Odin knew what they meant.
Gently he picked up the child. The moment their eyes met, the blue skin faded into pink. Making the baby indistinguishable from any Aesir or mortal child. Holding the boy in the crook of his arm, he took the Casket and walked out of the temple.
Layfey, still nursing both his wounded pride and body, glared when he approached. "Haven't you had enough of my humiliation?" he growled. "Now you bring me this? The symbol of my shame?"
"I found your son abandoned in the temple", Odin said. "Had I not came when I did, he would be dead."
"Then you should have left it there!" The All-Father paused, shocked by the words. The venom behind them. "The shame of my loins! Me, the king of Jotunheim, having a runt! Death is all it deserves!"
A pit opened in Odin's stomach. How could anyone hate their own child like that? For something they had no control over?
"I understand", he said, turning around. Walking away. Behind him Layfey shouted angrily.
"Good! Return it to where it belongs! Or better yet, throw it out into the snow! A sacrificial death was too good for the runt of a king!"
Holding the now sleeping boy a bit closer, the king of Asgard ignored the absolute hatred he heard. Returning to the Realm Eternal, he told no one except Frigga the truth. Sentiments towards the Frost Giants was putrid to say the least. They named the boy Loki, and gave him the Rune for wildfire. Then introduced him to the Realms as their own flesh and blood.
Odin wanted nothing more than see both of his sons grow. Become happy. Confident and secure in their own power. He tried to treat them equally, no matter their differences.
Yet, he wondered as he saw the distraught look on Loki's face, where did he go so wrong. And how could he fix it?
A thousand or so years had passed since that faithful day on Jotunheim. Thor had grown arrogant, bloodthirsty. Surrounded by sycophants doing nothing to curb his recklessness. Taking an infant into battle might have been a bad idea. Now, the Thunderer was banished to Midgard for his actions. To learn the true meaning of strength and humiliation.
In his shadow Loki, brilliant and clever, had grown bitter. Turning to tricks and pranks. Constantly pushing people's buttons just to have them react. Even going so far as to cut off Sif's hair. Foregoing his powerful sorcery in favour of blades. Just to avoid the ridicule thrown his way. Ridicule than neither Odin nor Frigga could stop, no matter what they tried.
The very same brilliant and intelligent son now stood before him. Angry, confused, scared. And demanding answers. Tears in his eyes. Odin had to make him understand. Or his son would break completely.