Loki's life and future

Chapter 1

I walked along the corridors of the palace as the sounds of chanting filled outside. My dress flowed with elegance around my ankles. The sound of boots, heels, and sandals pounded on the polished floors. Since Thor's return a celebration was held tonight. However, my family would not attend the large, extravagant feast. We would attend my brothers memorial that our family put together.
My brother was younger than me only by two years. He was the light of every day. To me, he was the Sun that woke me at dawn. And he was the howling wolf that filled me with joy in the night. My eldest brother, Tavyr, and young sister all loved him. He had just turned 20. (in Midgardian estimation of age) My little sister, only fourteen, had never seen death and knew the devistation of it. She had not been in the room when our father had passed. But she watched as Eric ,our brother, had passed from our lives.
Skye, my sister, walked by my side as our procession of family moved on ahead. Tears fell down her cheeks and fell onto the floors. I took her hand and gave a smile of sympathy to her. She smiled and looked at my brother to my right. Tavyr was raised and reared like me. Not to cry at silly things like death. Father reared us to accept death as a friend...for one day he would come for us all and we would not have time to cry out. When he died ,when our baby sister was four years old, he had been greeted by death. Even on death bed he scolded us when we cried. I was twelve, Eric was ten, and Tavyr was sixteen. Mother then reared us up to who we were now, but failed terribly when she tried to tell us we could cry when a loved one died.
Mother was up ahead at the front of the line with my great-grandmother; the matriarch of our family. My mother wailed into her handkerchief while great-grandmother carried the sword Eric had failed to defend himself with. This was a sight that made my eyes burn with the sensation of tears, but I denied myself the satisfaction of such a thing. What face my father would have if I were to cry like that? It was fine to cry when hurt or when afarid ,but never at a loved one's death.
We wandered to my brother's boat that would send him off to oblivion and up to Valhalla. Father would most likely be there to greet him with a scolding. Great-grandmother halted us at the edge of the river. She began the hymn to Hela. A hymn that begged her not to take our soldier away for her own battling pleasure. We all sang along until she stopped. The sword was lain in his arms and he was pushed off to his ascent into Valhalla. This was all I could take, the barrings on my tears were slipping. I let go of Skye and strutted with grace-how my mother taught me-and into the palace.
The celebration would be held in the western courtyard ,so the great-hall would be empty. My sandals slapped against the bronze shined floors as I approached the large golden doors. Before I opened them, they were swung open. Prince Thor swaggered past with ease; not even taking notice to me. I walked through the open doors and into the golden room. But, I was not alone.
"No. Thank Odin," a deep silky voice replied meniacly.
I approached the dais with caution. My eyes must be deceiving me, because he's dead. Thor said it himself to my uncle that he was dead.
"Oh my gods." I whispered.
He must have heard me because he turned around to see who had seen him. His emerald eyes bore into my blue ones and caused me to shake with fear. His glare could possibly send Hela back to her throne in Hel.
"Oh no," he growled in annoyance.
"Thor pronounced you dead. How in the name of Hela did you return?" my voice shook with fear.
He waltzed down the dais and in front of me. The shock clearly gone from his face. He made a quirk of his lips before replying: "I have my tricks." He whispered into my ear. I jolted back with the sudden closeness.
"Why would you trick Asgard like that?" I must have looked like a tiny piece of filth by the way I cowered.
"To test something," he said with mystery lingering on his lips.
I pulled away to run,but he had my wrist in his grasp and drug me into him. His hand clamped around my mouth before I could exclaim.
"Easy now," he purred in my ear. I tried to fight, but was constricted in his muscled arms. "If you scream you will pay with a life. Not your 's ,but maybe a family member of your 's. " he hissed, then released me.
"Please no. I have lost a brother and a father. I can not deal with anymore loss. I swear I will not scream," I pleaded him.
I had told myself not to cry, but by now it was too late. Tears fell down my cheeks and hit the floor. He frowned and furrowed his brow. He walked over and took my chin in his hand. The contact of his cool fingers sent chills down my spine and forced me to shiver.
He gave a simple nod and turned away. The doors opened with a sudden boom. The Allfather entered in his golden glory.
"Well have you received your answer from T-," he stopped abruptly at the sight of me. "What is the meaning of this?"
"A simple mistake, O--father," Loki replied.
Odin glared down at me before sighing a heavy sigh, "She will tell every man, woman, and child of your return. "
Loki thought before replying. "Then, we don't let her. We have to tell Thor before anyone else," he began to mull an idea over in his mind. "We could hide her here until tomorrow night. Lock her up until everyone knows."
I had such hopes Odin would disagree. But instead he nodded in agreement.