Lokison

Chapter One

LOKI ODINSON had everything he ever wanted, he had a wife, and a child on the way. But he should have known that it was to perfect, that it would not last. The universe would never let anyone have that much peace, that much Serenity, especially for someone like Loki. That's why he was sitting there in shock in the healing wing, stunned into silence, and staring unblinkingly into the abyss trying to wrap his mind around everything. His wife, his beloved was dead. Dead because of childbirth. His emerald green eyes were filled with tears of grief, pain, and torture. The woman the put her heart in his hands for safekeeping, to give him her loyalty and love. Even when he was positively sure that he wasn't even worthy for one ounce of her love. She had convinced him otherwise she loved him. And now, she was gone. The newborn was healthy while his wife laid dead, one of his daggers in her hand, so she could make to the halls of Valhalla, where the worthy dead stay forever, drinking and laughing. Celebrating the life that they had and beginning a new one.

 He was filled with pain, grief, and hatred. Pain and grief for the loss of his wife, hatred for his own child who was the reason that he was feeling what he was. Loki looked down at his wife, her soft blue eyes were shut and would never open again. Her beautiful platinum hair was spread around her head like a halo, her skin was cold, lacking the warmth that Loki had come to crave as a very part of his being. 

 "Oh my sweet Sigyn, what am I supposed to do without you?" he asks, placing his own hand on top of his wife's. He was half expecting for her to twine her hand in his. Like she always did when Loki was stressed, nervous, angry, or agitated. But her hand laid motionless at her side, dead and cold. He finally let the tears fall, no longer able to hold them back, and he stood. The child was cooing gently at one of the healers, grabbing onto her finger. The healer had a smile on her face as she rocked the baby in her arms. How dare she smile, when that monster was the reason that his wife was dead. The baby was no child of his, his chid was supposed to bring happiness to him and his wife. Not take the happiness away as well as his wife. He remembered when his wife used to sing some old Midgardian song to the child, while the baby would push its little hand into her stomach to the beat of the music. It used to make him smile and now it filled him with anger just like anything now, relating to his child or his wife. "Get rid of it." He spat coldly, never looking away from Sigyn.

 "Your highness, you son has no name, and no mother. You can't just abandon it! I understand that you are grieving, your loss affects us all but you can't just leave your child out to die. You can't just disown him, he is only a couple minutes old!" The healer protests. Loki glares at the child, but studies as well. The baby's pudgy hands were still wrapped around the healer's fingers. Loki was able to make the connection between himself and the child with the jaw and cheekbones, which were currently rounded and and soft with baby fat. The boy had Loki's soft, silky onyx black hair, as black and as pure as the darkest night. But what made him hurt the most was the sea green eyes that his son sported. They were the exact replica of Sigyn's innocent sea green.

 "Get rid of it! I want nothing to do with that abomination. That monster is the reason that my wife is dead!" Loki growled, angrily. "And the only thing that it will receive from me is a name, Lukas. I don't care what you do with it, just get it out of here, I don't want to see it. That is a direct order from your prince. I expect for you to obey or face punishment."

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 Lukas has been without his parents for all five years of his life. He had grandparents, and an aunt and uncle but no parents. His baby cousins were no fun to play with because well they were babies.His baby cousins were no fun to play with because well they were babies. Lukas knew who his father was, he knew that his father hated him. He had tried everything he could to impress him, to gain that affection and praise that a son wants from his father but it never worked. He never had any resentment, probably because he was a chid and though that he could change his ways and maybe be his father. It never worked.