Nevermore

Odin, Loki and Thor rode towards the Bifrost along with a company of heavily armed guards. Odin looked grave, an expression enough to make both of his sons nervous. Thor hid his feelings behind what he clearly thought was an expression of impressive strength...to Loki, it looked more like impressive constipation. “I do not like this, brother,” the god of thunder muttered, having carefully checked the Allfather was not listening. “Father looks perturbed...what could have discomfited him so?”
Loki shrugged. “I do not know,” he mused softly. “A frost giant invasion, perhaps?”
Thor gave him a long look before deciding he wasn’t serious. “You should not make jest of such things, Loki,” he chided. “But if the Jotun were to invade, I would route them from their city and melt the very ice caps of its foundations!” Thor had unwittingly raised his voice in his passion, drawing Odin’s attention.
“Thor!” the Allfather snapped. “You will not speak of the frost giants. This strange occurrence is not of their doing, of that I am certain.”
“If not the Jotun, then who?” Loki asked. Odin turned and looked at him as he always did – with a hint of, not coldness, but a detachment bordering on ice. The pain his father’s indifference caused him no longer pierced Loki’s heart like a knife every time he looked at him. He had learned to box away his emotions long ago, quell them beneath layers of silver words and guarder demeanour.
“Do not ask questions you know I will not answer, Loki,” the Allfather said. “All should be revealed in time.”
His youngest child fell silent. Every time he exchanged words with his father, he swore not to do so again unless addressed directly. Every time, he decided to try again, and was met with the same rejection.
Thor clapped him on the back, making him wince. Oblivious, the thunder god said, “Do not worry, brother! No matter who the enemy, they cannot stand against the might of Asgard.”
Loki looked at him, seeing the blonde hair, bulging muscles and blood red cloak. More than that, the proud bearing and expression....Thor was, every inch of him, the Asgardian prince. The young master of magic was none of these things, and didn’t he know it.
“What is it, brother?” Thor frowned, seeing his expression. Emerald eyes flickered away from him, hiding jealously as well as they hid all else.
“Nothing,” Loki said, with a slight smile. “I’m fine.”
It was a lie, but as they reached the Bifrost, it became clear that it would become even more so. The moment Loki saw the girl standing in the centre of their road, he knew that nothing would ever be the same again.
She certainly looked like she had been in the wars. Wild, dark hair tumbled down her back in untamed curls, matching the eyes watching them with amusement. She was slim and petite, clad in leather battle-gear bearing markings certainly not of Asgard. She leaned on a longsword which seemed too big for her, obviously waiting for them to arrive. Heimdell watched impassively from his station, not betraying any signs that her arrival heralded danger.
“Who enters the realm of Asgard without the acquiescence of the Allfather?” Thor boomed, as Odin’s nod.
The girl shifted her weight off her sword and walked towards them, showing no signs of fear. “Livia Dark,” she smiled, showing straight, white teeth. “Long have I been in my voluntary exile, now I return to Asgard as the stormclouds begin to move in.”
Loki didn’t know what she was talking about; nor did he hear Odin’s response. All else seemed to have faded from the world as her eyes happened to meet his, and he realised that she was the first girl he had ever considered beautiful.