LOKI
One week earlier...
"Honestly Brother," I remarked as I was forced toward a horse, the snorting stallion tossing its head majestically all the while. "I don't understand why you're so upset. The Midgardians would've been lucky to have me as their leader!"
"Loki," My brother, Thor, said calmly as he pushed me towards the animal. However, underneath his emotionless facade, I could practically see his anger building. "Get on your horse and be quiet, or I put the muzzle back on."
My hands cuffed and feet shackled, it was tempting to laugh at his instructions to mount the horse. Although if I complained, I didn't doubt that he would make me walk all the way to the palace, so I made my best effort.
I curled my fingers around the leather of the saddle, and by some miracle jumped high enough to get one foot in the stirrup.
"Thor," I said flatly. "I can't get my other leg over with the shackles."
He laughed, amused at my struggle. "Well Brother, that isn't exactly my problem."
I grumbled a series of curses as I awkwardly positioned myself so I could steer the animal. "And if you even think of trying to escape," he threatened, easily climbing atop his steed. "I beat you upside the head with Mjolnir." At this, he effortlessly tossed his beloved hammer through the air.
A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. "You've bound in chains, and you're still afraid of me."
"I'm not afraid of you." He muttered as we began to trot down the glowing bridge beneath us. The bifrost was one of those few things that combined performance and design, form and function. You could either admire the glowing, rainbow bridge or travel the nine realms at your leisure. It could take you anywhere you wanted to go, and still looked good doing it. In that way, it was a lot like myself.
Ahead of us, the city of Asgard glowed brightly in the setting sun, painting everything a pale orange. Tall buildings stretched their fingers toward an apricot sky, but all of them were dwarfed in comparison to the palace. White marble shimmered in the dying light, almost as massive as the mountain range behind it.
I glanced at Thor, who was riding eyes ahead with a scowl on his face. "Oh, but you are afraid of me." I insisted, grinning with malicious delight as he glared at me. "You have me captured and have a small army walking behind us." I inclined my head toward the squadron of soldiers escorting us. "And yet you worry about me escaping."
"You unleashed a Chitauri army on a city of innocent humans!" Thor bellowed, finally fed up with me. "I have every reason to be paranoid!"
I shrugged and opened my mouth to speak, but just as quickly, Thor reached over with a metal object in his hand. Before I could move to stop him, he rather forcefully slammed it against my mouth.
Small metal bands shot around my head, gagging me before the words could leave my mouth. I tried to call him a rather rude name through the muzzle, but it prevented me from speaking at all. As uncomfortable as it was, it was worth it to see the amusing sight of Thor's anger, however temporary.
We rode in silence, the only sound being the shuffling footsteps of the soldiers behind us and the clink of horseshoes.
Civilians stared at us in awe as we passed them, looks of joy and wonder at the sight of Thor and of horror and disgust at the sight of me.
Typical, I thought bitterly as my brother waved to the masses. Cheers erupted around him, the people simply thrilled that their beloved king-to-be had returned. Thor gets all the glory while I'm stuck here in chains.
This continued up until we were about a block away from the gates to the palace. The change didn't happen suddenly. It was gradual. As we neared our destination, admiration turned to bitterness and cries of joy became angry shouts.
Asgardian citizens wielded torches, swords and miscellaneous equipment as they cursed the names of Thor and Odin. Hatred rolled off of them in waves. Hatred towards their king and crown prince.
They're rioting. I realized as the guards pressed closer to the two horses, keeping the angry mob at bay.
I glanced at Thor questioningly, but my brother appeared just as dumbfounded as I felt. Someone threw a rock through the air and it hit him in the forehead, not hard enough to hurt but enough to be annoying.
The last block to the palace was arduous and involved many threats, insults and airborne projectiles. I was given the pleasant gift of an apple to the back of my head. The entire situation was confounding. Asgard adored Thor and Odin! Why the sudden change of heart?
What is going on?
After what felt like an eternity, our horses pushed through the mob, we passed through the gates and a moment later, we were safe inside the palace walls. The familiar domed ceiling and huge tapestries felt surprisingly good to be around after so long away from home.
This isn't home. I reminded myself firmly. You're a Frost Giant. Asgard can never be home.
I mumbled something incoherent around the mask. Thor raised an eyebrow but reluctantly removed my muzzle after I stomped on his foot as hard as I could.
"Thank you." I said, taking a gulp of air. "Now, care to explain what just happened?"
"Brother, I know as little as you do." Thor admitted. "I'll ask Father later. Excuse me."
With that, he disappeared down a hallway, leaving me alone with a squadron of guards.
"So, now what?" I asked, swiveling my head to look at them.
Without answering my question, or even so much as acknowledging that I asked, they prodded me ahead down the hallway, the only sound being echoing footsteps and the rattling of my chains. The metal that bound my hands, feet and neck severely restricted my movements.
Down the halls we went, and I felt the first flicker of worry since my capture by the wretched Avengers on Midgard. Odin was bound to be furious, of that I was sure.
As we approached the throne room, I did my best to steel myself for whatever came next.
The first thing I saw as a pair of guards pushed open the doors was my mother, Frigga. Her golden dress and hair almost blended in with the rest of the room, but I would never miss her face in a crowd, much less an empty room.
Clank, clank, clank was the only sound as I came to a stop in front of The Allfather, King of Asgard, and my adoptive father. I wasn't all that surprised that he didn't speak first, Mother did. "Loki."
My name, simply my name, was all she said and it brought on the first wave of guilt since I fell into the void around Asgard all those years ago. The hurt in her voice made me want to give her some consolation, but I showed no emotion.
"Hello Mother." I said as I turned slightly to face her. "Have I made you proud?"
"Please," She begged, and the pain in her tone made my heart crack. But, as always, I held it together. "Don't make this worse."
"Define worse." I replied flatly, keeping my voice monotonous. This would not be a great moment to be sentimental toward her.
Odin interrupted us. "Enough. I will speak to the prisoner alone." At his command, Frigga turned on her heel and exited the room, leaving my father, myself and ten or so guards. Hardly 'alone' but I suppose it wouldn't do to leave me unguarded.
I strolled closer to the throne, moving with slow, lazy strides that made the metal links of my chains rattle. When I was a few feet nearer, I loudly clanked the shackles on my ankles together, standing at a sloppy attention.
The clash of steel on steel echoed noisily through the chamber, and I could sense Odin's disapproval.
An awkward moment passed before I chuckled. "I really don't see what all the fuss is about."
"Do you not truly feel the gravity of your crimes?" He asked firmly, sitting as rigid as a statue up on his seat of power. "Wherever you go there is war, ruin," He paused for a breath. "And death."
"I went down to Midgard to rule the people of Earth as a benevolent god." I argued, the faintest hint of a smirk on my face. "Just like you."
"We are not gods," He corrected. "We are born, we live, we die. Just as humans do."
I tilted my head. "Give or take 5,000 years." I flashed an innocent smile. However, it was saccharine sweetness. In reality, I would love nothing more than to snap the neck of the man on the throne before me.
"All this," Odin taunted. "Because Loki desired a throne."
"It is my birthright!" I snapped, fury seeping through my apathetic charade. All my life, he had told me I was destined to be a king, and now he turns around and says I was wrong to want to rule.
"Your birthright was to die!" He thundered, now yelling. His voice echoed through the chamber. "As a child. Cast out onto a frozen rock." His volume lowered back to a reasonable level, but his words still cut as deep as any stab wound.
My brow furrowed slightly as he continued. "If I had not taken you in, you would not be here now to hate me."
"If I'm for the ax, then for mercy's sake just swing it." I said, tired of his pathetic excuse of a heart-to-heart. "It's not that I don't love our little talks, it's just... I don't love them."
"Frigga is the only reason you are still alive, and you will never see her again." Odin said, ignoring my previous remark.
The news felt like a punch to the stomach. My face fell and I physically had to stagger backwards a few steps. I could handle being thrown in a cage, tortured, executed. But... The idea of losing my mother? It was worse than anything else Odin could have thrown at me. She was the only one who ever truly loved me.
Odin continued, oblivious to my reaction. "You will spend the rest of your days in the dungeons."
"And what of Thor?" I asked over the clinking of metal as I shifted my body. "You'll make that witless oaf king while I rot in chains?"
"Thor must strive to undo the damage you have done." He said matter-of-factly. "He will bring order to the nine realms and then, yes, he will be king."
I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Not only would I never see Mother again, but I would be left to suffer while my idiotic brother rose to power. Power that should be mine.
I was dimly aware of Odin dismissing me and my guards, who used my chains like a leash as they half led, half dragged me from the throne room. At this point, I was beyond angry. I was livid.
The palace passed in a blur as I was led deeper and deeper into its winding halls. I could have fought my escorts simply for the sake of having something to fight. I could've tugged on the chains and thrashed about like a cornered animal. But I was too numb to even make the effort.
How dare he.
However, as soon as I entered the dungeon, the numbness was pushed away and sheer terror took its place. A single, long hallway was lined with cells. Illuminated yellow barriers separated pristine white prisons from each other, housing inmates of all kinds. More often than not, there were multiple captives in one room.
My guards led me down the hall, passing under the gazes of the wretches imprisoned here. Eventually we halted in front of a cell empty of prisoners, but it was different from the others in more ways than just the fact it was uninhabited.
Instead of being completely barren, it was adorned with furniture. A small side table, a chair with a velvet cushion and matching footrest and a plush bed with silken white sheets.
"This is it then?" I asked my guards as they unshackled me. "I am supposed to waste away the next five thousand years in a closet?"
They gave no answer, instead silently turning and exiting my cell, the rattling chains that once weighed my body down falling to the floor now that I was locked away.
The barricade once again took its place, and for the first time in a long while, I was completely alone. I could hear my blood pumping in my ears as I stood there with my hands on my hips.
"Exactly what I wanted to do with my day." I said aloud, a cheerless smile on my face. In reality, I wanted to kill something or someone.
Calm yourself. I instructed mentally, assessing my situation. How much freedom exactly did I have in here? I tried to summon my two daggers, which I had concealed with a spell. It didn't work.
The strange thing about magic is that every spell works differently. Concealment, which hides an object of my choosing in a kind of invisible locker, was completely out of the question. It was as if they never existed to begin with.
When I tried to use my telekinesis though, the pillow of the bed flew straight to my hand. When I attempted to create an illusion, it worked just fine.
Interesting, I mused. Most interesting.
The first effect of the cell that seemed to kick in was the boredom. Around twenty minutes after my arrival, an all-encompassing boredom began to incessantly pester me with it's only goal being to drive me mad.
"There is nothing to do in here!" I shouted to no one in particular as I paced in agitated circles around my enclosure, hands clasped behind my back.
Nothingness threatened to swallow me whole. The white room seemed to shrink more with every passing second.
This is accomplishing nothing. With a sigh, I ceased my pacing and collapsed in the comforting embrace of my new bed, burying my face in the pillow. It didn't take long for sleep to claim me.
I wasn't sure how much time had passed when I awoke. There were no windows, and no clocks. I was completely in the dark in regards to time of day.
Standing sluggishly to my feet, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes as I staggered over to the entrance to my cell. A large group of prisoners were being led past me, with five guards accompanying them.
Ignoring them, I let my gaze drift over the hallway until it landed on the two guards barring the entrance to the dungeon. They were different from the guards there when I first arrived, so I had been here at least long enough for them to change shifts.
I let loose a yawn, sitting upside down on the chair with my legs kicked up over the back. My hair splayed out on the footrest as I laid my head down and stared blankly at the ceiling.
For the love of all good things, I internally begged. End my suffering!
It was then that I became aware of someone opening the door to my cell. I raised my head just enough to see two soldiers walk in. One carried a plate of food, and the other an absurd quantity of books.
"What is this?" I demanded, swinging myself into an upright position.
The guard glanced up at me. "Dinner and a gift from Lady Frigga." With that, they deposited their burdens on the table and left.
"A gift from Mother, you say?" I hummed, even though they had already left. Temporarily ignoring the meal, I picked up a book. It was leather bound with worn pages, and it looked old. The scent of its years reached my nose, and a wave of nostalgia hit me. Memories of days of my youth spent in the library resurfaced for the first time in years, and a small smile flickered across my face.
Then my stomach rumbled, and I quickly rethought my priorities, dropping the book and attacking my food with ravenous hunger.
By this time, I had abandoned manners. Mother would be mortified. I thought with an amused chuckle as I ripped apart a chunk of meat with only the help of my teeth and fork.
After devouring my meal, I began making my way through the stack of books. Titles from authors both of Asgard and Earth showed up, and I burned through about twenty minutes divvying them up by genre.
After all, I had no idea how long these books had to last me, so I may as well make them take up as much time as possible.
I selected The Complete Works of Shakespeare from a pile and ran my index finger lightly down the spine. I had no idea what it would be about, having never been too intrigued by mortal writings.
Maybe this one won't be too bad.
Sighing, I laid down on my stomach on my bed, my beloved literature propped up on the pillow.
This is my life now. I told myself. Get used to it.
And with that, I began the first day of my new life. Not as a prince. Not as a Frost Giant. Not even as a villain. Now, I was a prisoner. Just like the world wanted.