A M O R A

As soon as Amora saw the white walls of the cell appear before her, she whirled around to face Lorelei. "Did you have a hand in this?" she demanded.

Lounging on her small cot, the collared redhead tilted her head innocently. "Have a hand in what?"

"Do not play dumb with me, Lorelei. We are the only sorcerers in Asgard that know how to conjure portals between realms."

Lorelei barked out a laugh. "Not anymore," she teased.

Amora was practically trembling with anger. "What did you do to Loki? Did you manipulate him? Enthrall him?"

"Oh, please. Your prince came to me in and of his own accord. And besides, I thought you would be pleased with the result of his little scheme."

The brunette furrowed her brow at both Lorelei's nonchalance and her comment. "Why would I be pleased with my friend's banishment and the guarantee of war?"

Lorelei looked at her as though the answer was obvious. "With Thor out of the way, Loki will be Odin's heir. And that practically guarantees you the throne."

Opening her mouth to deny it, Amora suddenly felt sick. She had always known of Loki's jealousy--he often ranted to her over the foolishness of Thor's ascension to the throne--but never thought that he would act on it. Especially in any way that would harm his friends or family.

Lorelei added, "And we both know that deep down you crave power."

"I am not power-hungry," Amora gritted out.

"Really? Then why do you still have that?"

Amora followed the redhead's pointed gaze down to the necklace that hung from her neck. The soul crystal from Karnilla's treasures.

"That gem is from the Norn Queen's treasure room and allows you to siphon the power of a fallen warrior. How does that not suggest a desire for more?"

Shaking her head, Amora hesitated to explain. The crystal had been a source of concern for her for some time. "I can not get rid of it," she admitted, "Any time I have tried, it...reappears."

Humming in interest and staring at the stone, Lorelei stood and slowly walked up to Amora. "Well, let's test that."

In one swift motion, she reached out and snatched the necklace from Amora's neck. Immediately, the brunette fell to her knees, overwhelmed with both weariness and pain. The dull throb from her leg grew in fury and intensity as her whole body felt a weight fall over it.

"It looks like you have been using this stone without even realizing it, sister," Lorelei's voice seemed slightly distant as Amora struggled to return to her feet. The brief moment on the floor had provided some relief, but she knew that she could not remain in the cell while in such a vulnerable state.

"I...I need to go." She reached out weakly towards Lorelei. "Give it back...please, sister."

"Oh," the redhead held the necklace out of Amora's reach, "not so sharp-tongued now, are we?"

A cruel smirk grew on her face as the healer leaned heavily against the wall. "You need to rest, sister. I would advise returning to the healing halls. You obviously cannot teleport back in this state, but the walk will help you build your endurance."

Casting Lorelei a pained glare, Amora disappeared and reappeared on the other side of the cell's golden barrier. "We are not done here, Lorelei. I still have questions."

With that, she began to trudge through the dimly lit halls of the dungeons. Luckily, it was late so most of the prisoners were asleep and never noticed her weak figure slowly walking by.

When she reached the guards standing by the main doors, Amora mustered all of her strength to hide her presence. However, as soon as she was around the corner, she collapsed to the floor and dropped her spell. Scooting closer to the wall, she leaned back and tried to catch her breath.

How can I be of any use while in this state?

There were too many issues to deal with: the Jotun's threat, Thor's banishment, Loki's possible treachery, Lorelei's possession of the soul crystal. With a helpless sigh, Amora closed her eyes. She could feel the panic begin to grow as the day's events overwhelmed her mind.

What am I going to do?

But the feeling was fought away by a sudden burst of strength that bloomed in her chest. Amora stood carefully and looked down. You have got to be kidding me, she mentally groaned.

Nonetheless, she was still filled with relief upon seeing the green gem once again hanging from her neck. It came back.

Using her newfound strength, she returned to her trek back to the healing halls. With so many issues at hand, she could only focus on one at a time.

It seemed like fate when she turned the corner and saw her most immediate problem walking down the hall away from her. What is he doing in the lower halls of the palace?

But her curiosity was quickly replaced with frustration as she increased her pace to catch up to him.

"Loki!" she barked.

The prince flinched but refused to look back at her as he walked. "I cannot speak right now, Amora," he said quietly.

Amora frowned slightly at the break in his voice, but she was not going to fall for his act. "Well, I am not giving you any other choice."

She finally was close enough to grab his arm and turn him around to face her. But as soon as she did, the fire in her died.

Never before had he looked so broken and distraught; his glistening eyes refused to meet hers and were full of such raw pain.

"Oh, Loki," Amora whispered softly, the prince's schemed temporarily forgotten, "what is wrong?"

She lifted a hand to his cheek but he jerked away from her touch. "Nothing," he clipped.

"You may be the god of lies, but that does not mean you are a perfect liar," she teased lightly before imploring, "Please, tell me. You can trust me."

With a sigh, Loki hesitantly met her gaze. "I do trust you, Amora."

Seeing him glance around the hall, she grabbed his arm even though he tried to avoid the contact. In an instant, they were in the privacy of her bedroom.

Loki stared intently at where her hand touched his arm before suddenly wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. As he buried his face in her neck, a choked sob escaped his throat.

Taken aback by the magnitude of emotions he was expressing, Amora ran a hand through his hair. "Loki, what happened?"

Hesitantly drawing away, the sniffling prince placed both hands on either side of Amora's head and rested his forehead against hers. Suddenly, she found herself standing in Odin's vault.

Turning, she gasped. Loki gripped the Casket of Ancient Winters with his bear hands, his face contorted with horror and confusion. What was most shocking was, not just the mere fact that he was not severely burned, but that his skin was beginning to take a blue hue.

Oh, Norns, Amora thought, He is a Frost Giant.

"Stop!" Odin's shout startled Amora but did not seem to phase Loki as he stared at the Casket.

"Am I cursed?" he asked, both his voice and hands shaking.

Please say yes, Amora silently pleaded for Loki's sake, Please say yes.

"No."

"What am I?" Amora almost shivered at the menacing edge in Loki's voice as he returned the Casket to its stand.

"You are my son," the king's voice was gentle but Loki's face remained cold as he turned to reveal his Jotun appearance.

"What more than that?" As he stalked closer to his father, the blue fled from Loki's complexion, leaving his normal pale skin. "The Casket was not the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day, was it?"

After a pause, Odin admitted, "No. In the aftermath of the battle, I went into the temple and I found a baby. Small for a giant's offspring, abandoned, suffering, left to die. Laufey's son."

Amora could only stare despondently with her mouth agape as Loki looked despondently down at the floor and repeated, "Laufey's son?"

"Yes."

That is his name, she thought as her heart broke for her friend, Laufeyson. What did this mean for Loki? What did this mean for the future of Asgard?

Loki's eyes darted about in confusion as he asked hoarsely, "Why? You were knee-deep in Jotun blood. Why would you take me?"

"You were an innocent child."

"No," Loki corrected roughly, "You took me for a purpose. What was it?"

Odin only opened his mouth, unable to speak.

"TELL ME!" Loki's desperate cry ripped Amora apart. She wanted to reach out to him so badly, but could not.

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

"What?" Loki breathed as hot tears formed in both his eyes and Amora's.

"But those plans no longer matter," Odin tried to say dismissively.

A shaky breath escaped the observing brunette. If this and Lorelei's claims were true, then Loki had just destroyed his own destiny through his schemes. His attempt to gain the throne, and glory, had ruined his biggest chance at receiving it. This was to have been his birthright, and it was now lost.

"So I am no more than another stolen relic locked up here until you might have use of me?" The anger was practically radiating off of the prince now.

"Why do you twist my words?" At first, Amora admired the Allfather's cool-headedness, but then she froze upon realizing why his defense lacked its usual vigor. He was weakening, rapidly.

No, Loki. Stop. If he was not careful, this would go too far.

But he remained oblivious and he pressed with a cracked voice, "You could have told me what I was from the beginning. Why didn't you?"

"You're my son," Odin was growing weaker by the second, "I wanted only to protect you from the truth."

And Loki was growing angrier by the second. "What, because I-I am the monster parents tell their children about at night?"

"No," Amora rushed to Odin's side as he sat heavily on the stairs.

"You know, it all makes sense now, why you favored Thor all these years," Loki was practically snarling with fury, "because no matter how much you claimed to love me,"

Odin reached up weakly to his son but Loki was too blinded by rage to notice, "you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne of Asgard."

Amora stared in horror. This was not the beloved friend that she knew; this was someone else entirely. Someone cold and merciless, driven only by rage.

As Odin collapsed weakly on the steps, Loki's dark appearance seemed to dissipate into one of fear. The hurt prince, her friend now returned, leaned down to touch his father but seemed too afraid to actually do so.

"Guards!" he cried desperately, "Guards, please help!"

With a gasp, Amora was pulled out of the scene and back in her room. Both she and Loki were breathing heavy and shaky breaths. Before she could reach out to console him, he turned his back to her.

"Now you know," he said quietly, his voice distorted by soft sobs, "I am a monster."

"Loki," she slowly drew near and placed a hand on his arm. He tried to jerk away but she was faster and already had a firm grip. "I am not afraid of you," she assured with a gentle smile.

"Come on," she urged, "You need to sit down."

Amora maneuvered to lean back against the pillows of her bed and allowed room for Loki to sit. But when he came down beside her, he immediately wrapped his arm around her torso and rested his forehead in the crook of her neck.

Pausing in surprise, she reluctantly ran one hand through his hair and the other up and down his arm.

"What have I done, Amora?" he despaired.

"Nothing that cannot be undone," she assured, "It is alright, Loki. Everything will be alright."

But her mind was screaming at her. Everything was not alright. Thor was still banished, war was still at their doorstep, and now Odin had fallen into the Odinsleep with no proper warning or preparation.

And she could not question her distraught friend over his involvement in the situation for fear of sending him deeper into an emotional spiral. He was on the brink of being taken by some darkness that lurked deep within his mind. She could only do her best to comfort and save him.

"Why are you not repulsed by me," he asked quietly, "after everything that has happened?"

Amora stiffened briefly. Was he just talking about his true parentage or his recent actions, as well?

Collecting her thoughts, she answered, "Because nothing has changed, Loki. You are still the prince that I stole from and befriended."

A small chuckle shook Loki's shoulders, but it was a weak and empty one.

Amora continued, "And we cannot change what we are, but we can determine who we are."

There was no response from Loki, only shaky breaths. With a small sigh, Amora shifted and said, "Loki, look at me."

Reluctantly, he complied, propping up on his arm to look at her with weary eyes. She placed a hand on his cheek and gave him a pointed look. "Are you looking at me?"

His brow furrowed slightly. "Yes," he said, confused.

"Because I am still here," she said intently, "I have not run away or abandoned you, Loki. Do you understand?"

Tears welled up in his eyes once again as he gave a slight nod.

"I am still here," Amora repeated softly.

Sniffling, Loki slowly returned to his original position, only now his hold was tighter, as if he was afraid to let go. Amora continued to run her fingers through his hair until his shaky breaths became even and steady.

Then, resting her head on his, she fell asleep.

* * *

I just have to say THANK YOU to everyone who has taken the time to read my junk! This story has really taken off; I could not have hoped for more!!

You guys are awesome! :)