Baldur Odinson:The light of Asgard

Asgard stood in all its golden brilliance, stretching endlessly beneath the eternal sky. From the high balcony of the royal palace, Baldur looked out over his home, taking in the sight that had once filled him with pride. It was beautiful, yes. Grand and powerful, the shining beacon of the Nine Realms. But now, it felt small.

It wasn't Asgard that had changed. It was him.

Behind him, the celebrations continued. Warriors drank and feasted in the halls, reveling in the hard-won victory against Loki's treachery. The echoes of laughter and the clinking of golden goblets rang through the corridors, but Baldur wasn't celebrating.

Because he knew something the others did not.

Loki was alive.

His brother hadn't fallen into the void by accident. Loki never did anything without a purpose, without a plan. And if Baldur was right—and he knew he was—then someone had caught him.

He leaned against the railing, golden eyes scanning the stars beyond Asgard's borders. He had always loved the cosmos, but now, it called to him in a way he couldn't ignore.

"Baldur."

Thor's voice was steady, familiar, and Baldur didn't turn immediately. He knew that tone. It was the one Thor used when he was trying to understand something he couldn't fight.

Thor stepped up beside him, mirroring his posture as he gazed at the horizon. He was calmer now, wiser in a way he hadn't been before his exile. He had learned humility, learned what it meant to fall and rise again.

But Baldur had not fallen. And he wasn't sure what rising would look like for him.

"You've been quiet," Thor continued. "Even more than usual."

Baldur exhaled, running a hand through his golden hair. "There's nothing left to say."

Thor frowned, turning to face him fully. "We won. Loki's schemes failed. Asgard is safe again."

Baldur finally looked at him. "Is it?"

Thor hesitated, and Baldur knew he had struck a nerve. Because Thor was thinking it too.

"Loki isn't dead," Baldur said, his voice quieter now. "You know that, don't you?"

Thor was silent for a long moment. Then, finally, he nodded.

Baldur folded his arms. "And yet, we act as if this is over. As if nothing waits beyond the edge of the realms."

Thor sighed, gripping the handle of Mjolnir tighter. "What would you have us do, brother? Scour the void for him? He is beyond our reach now."

Baldur's gaze didn't waver. "That doesn't mean he won't return."

Thor studied him, his expression unreadable. "You are restless."

Baldur smirked. "And you're just now realizing that?"

Thor exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "I should have known."

Baldur turned back toward the stars. "I can't stay here, Thor. Not anymore."

Thor's grip on Mjolnir tightened. "Where would you go?"

Baldur's gaze was distant, his voice steady. "Out there. Beyond the Nine Realms. I need to see what's waiting. To find what I am beyond Asgard's walls."

Thor didn't argue. He could have tried. Could have pointed out Baldur's place, his duty. But he didn't. Because he understood.

Thor had found his purpose when he was cast down to Midgard. He had learned who he was when everything was taken from him.

Baldur had never lost anything.

And that was the problem.

"You seek battle," Thor finally said.

Baldur smirked. "I seek more than that."

Thor sighed. "Odin will not approve."

Baldur laughed, shaking his head. "Odin never approves."

There was silence between them then, not heavy, but not light either. It was the silence of brothers who knew they were parting ways.

Finally, Thor placed a hand on Baldur's shoulder. "Then go. Find what you must. But know that Asgard will always be your home."

Baldur nodded. "I know."

He turned, leaving his brother behind as he walked back through the palace. This time, the halls seemed even smaller than before. The laughter, the drinking, the revelry—it all felt so hollow.

Frigga was waiting for him at the entrance to the Bifrost ruins.

His mother had always seen more than most. She had always known when something in his heart had changed before he had even realized it himself.

"You've made up your mind," she said softly.

Baldur swallowed. He never liked disappointing her. "I have."

She stepped forward, cupping his face gently, her eyes sad but understanding. "You were never one to stand still."

He exhaled slowly. "This is the right choice."

Frigga nodded. "I know." She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "Then go, my son. But do not forget who you are."

Baldur smiled faintly. "Not even if I tried."

He turned and faced Odin.

The Allfather stood tall, his hands folded behind his back, his one good eye locked on Baldur with that same unreadable expression. There was no anger, no disappointment. Only acceptance.

"You were never meant to remain here forever," Odin said.

Baldur blinked. "That's the closest thing to approval you've ever given me."

Odin's lips quirked slightly. "Then do not make me regret it."

Baldur nodded, then stepped toward the edge of the ruined Bifrost. With Heimdall's post destroyed, there was no one to open the bridge.

But Baldur didn't need the Bifrost.

Golden light flared around him, bending and twisting, warping the space around his body. The energy hummed, resonating with the very fabric of the cosmos.

He felt the universe stretch before him.

One last look at Asgard.

Then, with a burst of light—he was gone.

A golden streak vanished into the stars.

Baldur Odinson had left Asgard.

And the universe would never be the same.

————————————————————

Darkness. Endless and vast.

Loki had fallen into the void, his body weightless, suspended in a realm between life and death, between existence and nothingness. The cold wasn't just physical—it was absolute. It gnawed at the edges of his mind, whispering of eternity, of oblivion.

And then…

Something caught him.

Not with hands, not with magic, but with a force far greater than anything he had ever felt.

A presence loomed in the abyss. Immense. Overwhelming. Ancient.

Then the darkness shifted.

Loki landed—not on a surface, because there was no surface—but he felt grounded again, as if reality had chosen to hold him in place.

A throne.

A figure.

The air was thick with something he couldn't name, something beyond magic, beyond power. Loki had spent his life learning to read people, to decipher the language of body, of speech, of intent.

But this being was unreadable.

Thanos.

The Titan sat upon his throne, massive and unmoving, his skin etched with the weight of countless millennia. His presence was not just seen but felt, pressing down on Loki like an invisible weight, demanding submission without a word.

Loki forced himself to stand.

No weakness. No hesitation. If he faltered here, he would not leave this place alive.

A new voice, silky and smooth, interrupted the silence.

"So, this is the Trickster Prince."

Loki turned, his sharp gaze landing on a figure standing beside Thanos' throne.

The Other.

Loki did not flinch, though he recognized the creature's energy—alien, ancient, dangerous.

"Your fall was unfortunate," The Other continued, tilting its head. "But not… unexpected."

Loki raised an eyebrow. "And what, exactly, do you want with me?"

The Other's lips curled in amusement. "It is not what we want. It is what you want, Prince of Asgard. You have lost your throne, your birthright. You were cast out, just as your brother once was."

Loki clenched his fists, but his expression remained composed.

"You desire vengeance," The Other continued. "You wish to claim what is rightfully yours. We offer you the power to do so."

Loki inhaled slowly, then exhaled. His mind moved quickly, calculating, analyzing.

He had known powerful beings existed beyond the Nine Realms. Odin had never spoken of them, but Loki had found fragments of knowledge, whispers of entities that predated Asgard itself.

And now, he stood before one of them.

Thanos had yet to speak, but his gaze alone made Loki feel as though he were being studied, dissected.

Loki straightened, smoothing out his robes. "If you are offering power, then I assume there is a price."

The Other chuckled. "Of course."

Thanos finally moved. Just the slightest shift in his posture, yet it carried more weight than an army.

"You will bring me the Tesseract."

Loki's breath hitched. He knew of the Tesseract—knew it had been hidden away on Midgard after Odin had taken it from the Frost Giants.

He also knew it was no ordinary relic.

"The Tesseract is more than you understand," Loki said carefully. "Why do you seek it?"

Thanos' lips curled slightly, a shadow of a smirk.

"That is not your concern."

Loki swallowed his instinct to argue. His pride screamed at him to resist, to push back, but something deep within him recognized the futility of such an action.

Thanos was not someone he could deceive. Not someone he could manipulate.

Loki had spent his life playing the game of gods and kings, but this was something far greater.

"And what do I receive in return?" Loki asked, keeping his voice even.

The Other smiled. "A kingdom."

Loki felt his heartbeat slow.

"A throne of your own," The Other continued. "Not just Asgard. Midgard. The realm your father has so foolishly left unguarded. The realm your brother has grown attached to. We will give you an army, and with it, you will take what is rightfully yours."

Loki tilted his head slightly, considering.

Earth.

A kingdom untouched by divine rule. A world still ripe for conquest. A place where he could rule as he was meant to.

He exhaled slowly.

"I accept."

The Other smiled wider. "Then it is done."

But Thanos was still watching him, still weighing him.

"You hesitate," Thanos rumbled.

Loki met his gaze. "I do not."

A low hum of amusement vibrated through the void.

"Do not mistake my patience for mercy," Thanos said, his voice deep, the very foundation of this place seeming to tremble with his words. "I grant you this opportunity. Do not fail me."

Loki bowed his head slightly. "I will not."

Thanos' smirk deepened, but there was no warmth in it. Only expectation.

"One last thing," Thanos murmured.

Loki stilled.

"You Odinsons are fascinating creatures," the Titan mused, almost to himself. "Thor, reckless and strong. You, cunning and ambitious."

His gaze sharpened.

"And then there is the third."

Loki's breath caught in his throat.

"Baldur."

Thanos leaned forward, his presence pressing down like a great storm. "He is stronger than you expected, isn't he?"

Loki kept his expression neutral, though his pulse quickened.

Baldur had been a variable in all of this. He had always been different—too unpredictable, too quick, too sharp. Loki had always assumed Baldur would remain a distraction, never a threat.

But something had changed.

Baldur had seen through his illusions. Had struck him. Had made him bleed.

And now… Baldur was out there.

"He is of no consequence," Loki lied smoothly.

Thanos chuckled, a deep and knowing sound. "Then let us hope you are right."

Loki forced himself to remain composed, forced himself to suppress the sliver of unease curling in his chest.

Because for the first time in his life, he wasn't sure if he was right.

And that was terrifying.