Trickster of Ice

Ice In My Veins

(Narrator POV)
To say Loki was tired, would be an understatement. He was exhausted. Emotionally, physically, mentally, and any other way you can think of.

He'd been doing the research for almost two weeks and had only found one answer. Sleep was rare, food was often forgotten, and showers were done magically in seconds. Hours and hours of reading and re-reading and still, only one answer remained.

He was a Jotun. Not an Asgardian. Not Frigga and Odin's son. Loki was a Frost Giant, a monster in the eyes of the Aesir. Not Thor's brother, not an Odinson. Maybe not even a prince, which was honestly the least of his worries at the moment.

He'd already thrown the book that was in his hands when he came to the conclusion, across the room. Because, why not? What has he got to lose now, right? Certainly not a stupid book that was currently ruining his life.

Him being a Frost Giant would explain so much. The blind hatred from almost all Asgardians older than him, the hatred from everyone in general, the slightly colder core temperature, the blue skin incident on Jotunheim, how he was never allowed near the Casket of Winters, how he was always less than to Thor, how he was never considered for the throne, and so much more.

Why though?! Why would Odin Allfather, the King of Asgard, who already had a son, take in a Jotun baby?! Odin had a reason for everything he ever did, so there had to be an explanation now.

Also, why wasn't he blue?! A question he never thought he'd have to ask, but nevertheless. Odin. He had to have put a glamour on Loki. That was the only way he would have looked like this for so long without purposely shapeshifting. Or maybe Loki had shapeshifted, but just doesn't realize it because he's been this way since a baby so he doesn't really have to actively think about it anymore.

This room was suffocating him and he needed answers. There was only one way he could think of that would answer his questions for sure.

Loki stood from where he was sitting against the wall and then quickly made sure he looked composed. Slamming his door open and briskly walking out had literally never felt so good before.

He walked toward the vault with purpose and used a secret entrance to get in and avoid guards. His determination did not waver as he walked up the steps and came face to face with the Casket of Winters.

Only Jotuns could use it. So if he was able to, he would have 100% proof of what he was. No doubt would be left in his mind anymore. He grabbed it by both handles, and was shocked that he didn't flinch when his hands turned blue and the color seeped up his arms.

He put the Casket back down before the azure could rise higher. He knew now and that was all he wanted, but now he had so much rage that he wanted to blow up the entire castle.

There was still one more question he needed answered first though.

Why in world, would Odin do this?!

Loki goes to turn, but stopped. Stealing the Casket would be child's play right now. He stared at the alluring blue of the artifact before grabbing it, throwing up an illusion of it, and putting it in his pocket dimension right next to the crystal he stole weeks ago.

He was tempted to steal more, but he shouldn't push his luck too far when he's already on borrowed provisions of it as it was.

Leaving the vault through a secret passage, he goes back to his room. It felt like letting Odin win by not confronting him, but there was no way to go about it that wouldn't get him killed.

Loki took a deep breath because right now all he wanted to do was pack up and leave, but he was angry and he'll never get anywhere if he's not completely composed.