Loki's Daughter

The Mischief Maker's Mind

Before this chapter begins, I'd like to say that, although I didn't want to and had no intentions of writing this, this chapter is in Loki's point of view. A lot of you have asked for it and I find myself with a bit of writer's block. This will most likely be the only Loki P.O.V. in this story, and one of the main reasons I write this one is so you can all know where he is now. He is definitely not out of the picture and will return, but please have the patience and let the story unfold. ;) I hope you enjoy, and thank you for your support.

"I don't have to go anywhere, I'm not the one in a cell."

"Why? Why would they kill her?"

"Was I hit by a truck or something?"

"I'm sorry."

"Daddy, I didn't want to do it."

"Am I evil?"

"Daddy, don't let them take me..."

His daughter's voice echoed in his mind as he paced the cell. It drove him mad. Everywhere he turned, he heard her giggling and saw her grinning at him. In his dreams, he would see her. She would scream for him to help her, but he was always there too late.

Always too late.

Loki knew Hela was safe. Thor would never let harm come to his niece and he knew that those Avengers did care for his daughter. They had taken care of her for seven years now. Those seven years should have been his, though.

Safe or not, she was safer with him. Hearing her scream for his help had hurt him more than the demigod would like to admit. He remembered a time when he would have scoffed at himself for falling victim to such petty emotions.

But now he was different.

Through all those years in prison, Loki had time to reflect. He had been alone for so long. Ever since her death, nothing had felt the same. He had become distant and cold. And while in that prison, he had broken.

His family was all that mattered. His children were all he had left.

When he had seen Hela in S.H.I.E.L.D. all of the anger and desperation had returned to him. He felt the need to get her away from there. He felt the need to protect her. So he took her from that place and kept her in that forest.

He had to marvel at how much she was like her mother. Defiant in every way and stubborn. She had refused everything he told and gave her. She only spoke when she found it beneficial to her own situation or when she thought of some snappy remark to make at him. She only ate when he forced her to.

She purposely did things to irritate and infuriate him. Loki ran a hand through his hair as he remembered waking up to vibrant pink hair. He could have killed her that day. And for a split second, to his horror he had wanted to.

Loki had taken care to stay in complete control of himself after that.

But she simply wouldn't let it go. She was never still, and Loki soon found out that to keep up with the girl was like trying to catch air. Hela hardly ever tired out and was always up and running.

Loki sighed and tugged at his hair. He was staring directly out of his cell now. It wasn't like the ones he had been moved to and from for the past seven years. He was deep, deep into the depths of Asgard. There were no other prisoners. No guards around him. Only himself in one small cell.

Alone again.

Something felt wrong to God of Mischief. Something wrong in the air. He felt uneasy and ill. Something terrible was going to happen.

Loki scowled. He couldn't let himself think like this. He shook his head and sat on the bed in his cell. There was silence in the long hallway. The hall itself was dark, but light came from his cell. The light was a warm, golden color, and illuminated around the area. Farther out there was nothing but darkness.

There were times that he was sure he could hear his daughter running toward him. He could hear the padding of her feet running toward the cell and calling out for him. As he would watch the darkness, though, no person came. It was his imagination.