It had happened many years ago.
As most stories do.
With a kingdom ruled by a family who split the opinions of those they loomed over.
The King was revered and feared among villagers and forced allies.
The Queen was adored and known as a peacemaker who would keep her husband in line, at least as best as she could.
For years the King ruled with an iron fist, acting without remorse to gain control of what was never meant to be his, while the Queen watched on with saddened frowns and distant hopes of keeping those who wished to revolt pleased.
As horrific and unspeakable as some of the King's actions were, they were needed for the sake of the people and progression of the land.
Only the people wouldn't take that as an answer for his cruelty, as they naturally shouldn't when wars were waged over the smallest amount of supplies that were near inconsequential.
Life went on tensely for years, the barrier between the kingdom and the villagers always thin and on the brink of shattering were it not for the equal balance between King Odin and Queen Frigga.
Frigga worked hard to keep relations as calm as she could.
Things didn't settle until the first son was born.
The change was incredible, not only in the King but in the land surrounding the kingdom.
It wasn't immediately noticeable, things changed over time and the atmosphere became less tense among the villages and then the people as new, better order came into view.
Resources became easier to access, requests would be heard and the new parents would visit the villages to meet their people and show their growing boy, though he was still terribly young, the lands that he would eventually rule over.
King Odin was still a grumpy old soul, but he had become more approachable as fatherhood took to him.
Queen Frigga beamed brighter than she had before and this only made the family all the more welcoming.
Then, short years later, a second son was welcomed, much to everyone's surprise.
No one had heard news of a second pregnancy and quiet murmurs started to whisper around the towns, though the royals themselves neither confirmed nor denied any of the rumours, instead choosing to brush off any questions as to where this young boy had come from so suddenly.
After the uproar of the second boy had died down, things returned to the new normal and life went on relatively peacefully for many a year.
Villages started to strive with better crop harvests and relations continued to grow closer as the royals opened themselves more to the needy, offering more charity and supplies with each passing year.
The two sons grew before everyone's eyes and became striking men, each with a potential that could benefit in the future upon taking the throne.
They would go to villages for lessons of varying degrees on how to work with those not of their status, learning both skills and humility through the villagers.
They formed bonds with the people and became well loved, especially Thor, the eldest.
All was coming together for a quieter life.
Until an attack brought sorrow and grief upon the kingdom.
One of Odin's old, more violent acquaintances had taken a liking to this new order, deeming it unworthy of the King and deciding to take it upon themselves to correct the King's ways.
In an attempt to lure him back to his cruel roots, they ordered an attack upon the palace and the destruction of the village that sat beneath it.
No one was to be left when they were done, only the King and perhaps the eldest boy, who had the potential to grow up to become a fierce warrior under the right tutelage, everyone else was to be deemed expendable.
Fire and carnage raged in the early hours of the morning, waking people with burning homes and terrified screams as armoured strangers ravaged the people and their sanctuary in the name of mindless violence.
The family fought back, even the Queen refused to be pushed into hiding and stood at her youngest son's side as they worked on protective magic, a barrier that would seal in anyone who dared enter the palace and stop them from retreating back to the village to cause more harm.
The eldest boy had taken to the streets, battling with pure brawn anyone who dared step into his path as he sought out those to attack in the name of protection.
The King held the palace grounds, using old weapons that had long gone untouched to take down those foolish enough to stand off against him.
It was a long, arduous fight that lasted many an hour.
Fighters tired and many more on both sides were taken down entirely.
Blood seemed to coat every surface and wails echoed in an unending cacophony of pain and anguish.
As the opposition's numbers dwindled, they called a hasty retreat and left the kingdom to deal with their injuries and fallen, the task of accounting for everyone and taking the numbers of the fallen just as long as the battle itself.
Foolishly, someone had dared to run the Queen through with their weapon during the siege upon the castle and she lost her life, protecting others as she had lived her time doing.
The sorrow following the Queen's death spread quickly and many villages celebrated her life in any way they could, some by holding lavish parties dedicated to her name and others by holding silent praying circles as day turned to night.
The loss was exponential to all, but some would argue that none felt it as harshly as their sons, especially the youngest.
Loki, an already reserved and quiet young man, retreated into himself further and hid away from the world, only to be seen on the rarest of occasions and never for long.
Workers around the palace would whisper among themselves of a change in the youngest Prince, while Thor wore his grief on his sleeve, Loki chose to shield himself with books, studying and learning more advanced magic than his mother would have ever dared to teach him.
Not because he wasn't skilled, on the contrary, Frigga had adored her son's natural ability to learn and use magic so easily, but it was more that she was scared of how far he would push his power and the harm it could cause not only to him but to those surrounding him.
By the time the circles around his eyes had deepened, his skin had paled to the point of looking sickly and his already thin face became a hollow shell of what it once was, it was too late.
Intervention was no longer an option.
The night when King Odin was to push his own grief aside and talk to his son about his solitude was the night everything changed.
No one knows the full details of what happened.
Some say it was a spell to shift reality to his whim.
Others say that an outsider snuck into the palace to take advantage of the family's sorrow.
The darkest rumour was that the Prince was working with the blackest magic imaginable and was attempting to raise the dead.
There was only one thing all stories agreed upon, no matter who was asked and what story they believed to be true.
Every account told of a magical surge that ran throughout the kingdoms, one powerful enough to knock people off stable feet and to rattle valuable crockery in their place.
Things had changed dramatically across all kingdoms Odin ruled over, a strange fog descended and darkness reigned for three consecutive days.
When the darkness finally lifted, the King and his sons had disappeared entirely.
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Edderkopp - Drider!Loki
FanfictionDeep in the forest where the hidden creatures reside, is one such creature to instill fear on all who lay eyes upon it. One day, I stumble into the home of this creature, looking for shelter but leaving with an adventure.