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Chapter Text

The skirmish outside Loki’s cell was rowdy and bursting with violence. Even with the annoyances of not being freed, he found the sight amusing and completely ridiculous, if not a bit lightening, especially after sitting in a dull cell for two years. He had had little company in that time and though he tried to allow the schedule and boredom meld into his being, he could not be content with living like this for the rest of his days.

Queen Frigga, his Mother and only friend had done all in her power to make him comfortable, despite the bitterness he’d displayed. He loved her dearly and was grateful to her, for she was the only one who cared for him, but he couldn’t show his emotions in such a raw state. After the cruel and impassive words that Odin had spoken to him he found himself even more guarded than ever before, his hidden soul shattered and torn by hurt. He had known himself to be unloved by the man he had called father, but he never expected such brutal things to come so lightly from the old man’s mouth. It ached more than Loki was willing to let on, having striven to please him only to be cast aside without a glance.

Indeed, apparently he was naught but a stolen relic locked away until some use might be made of him. He had been a fool to even imagine Odin capable of loving him. Such a fool. Born to die, Odin had said and he would have acted upon that fact if Frigga had not intervened. That too, stung his already bruised soul. Had Odin any idea of just what he had been through in the void, would he still speak so haltingly?

Most likely, for surely this is what he had thought all along and had merely kept silent for his wife’s sake. Now though? Nothing held him back to abuse his adoptive son with words that cut like knives and eyes that burned like heated irons of torture.

A man was flung screaming into the force-wall that kept him imprisoned and Loki cast his bothered gaze on the fighting idiots. Dolts of men clobbering each other without heed of whether the brawl would succeed or not, Loki sighed.

This distraction was steadily becoming a hindrance to his thoughts.

“Blunderheads, the lot of them.” The words spit between his lips like a snake’s forked tongue in a hiss.

He turned his gaze from the battle and walked away from the barrier, gently picking up the book his Mother had left for him on the small table he had been provided with. Closing his eyes to the muffled sounds beyond his cell, he ran his fingers over the firm leather binding. Her gifts had always been the highest of quality and often custom made to his likings. Had she been allowed, he knew she would have gladly stacked a library full of magic books and research for him to ponder through with joy. However, Odin had forbidden it and had probably caused a fit at her sending him mere stories to occupy his time with, just as he had been adamant that Loki never see his Mother again.

Of course, it had most likely slipped his mind in a fit of anger that Loki was not the only talented magician in Asgard. Frigga had visited Loki at every moment she could, projecting her image into his cell. But Loki could not touch her, feel her embraces or the gentle whisper of her breath and it was a painful thing. If Odin did know of his wife’s secret visitations to his dishonored son, he must think it a suitable punishment to add to the list.

Gracefully, as if nothing were happening in the dungeons outside his little prison, Loki sat down upon his bed, opening the book over his lap with careful fingers. He brushed the digits over the paper in a caress, running them over the inked words and then he began to read silently.

It was a relativity uninteresting story compared to many he had read, but Loki would not show himself ungrateful by turning it back to Frigga unread. She had done too much for him to be so picky.

For five minutes he read without disturbance, ignoring the shouts and cries. He could have gone on for much, much longer, since his freedom had been denied by the elven creature and he had no way of escape, however a loud shattering electrical sound caused him jump, head snapping towards the front of his cell. The irony of it was both amusing and shocking.

Thor had arrived a little time ago, but though Loki had indeed heard his voice, he did not feel the need to express the fact. Thor had made it quite clear after their return that he wanted nothing to do with him and the younger brother had not argued over it. If anything, the crown prince had stated that he hoped that Loki spent his caged time without any worthy company or chance of freedom. So the sight of Thor’s hammer, accidently or not, slamming through the barrier that kept him secured was not exactly to be expected.

The book in his hands snapped shut as he rose, the blockade of magic now disarmed and incapable of holding him captive any longer. Thor, the idiot, had not even paid attention to where his weapon had flown and was already beating another escapee to a pulp. He observed with a comical eye while his ‘not-brother’ preceded to then pounce to another desperate criminal without even so much as turning in his direction.

Typical of him.

No matter, Loki was no fool and knew that if he ever wishes to even have a chance of liberty he had to go and go now. Idle thoughts and contemplations on his liberation would only cause him to falter and maybe even loose his one crack at leaving his dreaded sentence. He laid the book aside with a grievous guilt and gazed upon it for only a moment before briskly turning about towards his newfound exit.

As fate would have it though, the moment that Loki stepped from his cell, Thor turned his eyes towards him and froze briefly, suddenly comprehending what has happened. The shining blue orbs widened and the escaping immortal wasted no time, casting a spell of transportation even as the thunderer jumped towards his figure. By the time the crown prince reached the spot, his brother was gone.

Loki reappeared on the level above the prisons, slipping behind one of the many columns within the hall. Heaving a breath to himself he smiled, closing his eyes at the mere thought of being freed from his infernal cell and cage. Who cared if Thor would rant and raze all of Asgard to find him, right now he was okay, right now he could breathe without restraint and he would do it proudly.

It took a good five minutes for the escapee to venture from the pillar, cloaked in invisibility and cautious as a wild animal in unknown territory. He made sure to keep his padding light and his senses ready in case of surprise or attack.

Idly, he wondered if he should just leave the realm before he was once again caught, chained like a beast and returned to his ‘showcase’. The idea was tempting, considering the fact that the last thing he wanted was to be bound again. But then again he really had nowhere to go, no place of refuge for the not-son of Odin. Every realm had a quarrel and personal vendetta against him in one way or another and stood on guard to catch and make the trickster pay.

Most of the realms really should be pointing fingers at Thor for all of his past feats and quests on their lands without warrant, however they just didn’t seem to be able to get it. Loki had only cause chaos on their worlds to save his brother in his ridiculously stupid action and now for those same situations he had to deal with no place of safety and recuperation.

But then again he could hardly stay within the halls of Asgard, hunted and sought after like a mere beast for the sport of….well everyone. While it might prove a interesting show for him, Loki wasn’t too keen on the idea.

He could go to the home of the Vanir elves, as they were really the only race capable of appreciating his magic and skills. However, considering the last visit ended up with a dual between Thor and their mightiest magician and ending with him intervening before the fool was killed and therefore breaking too many rules to count and then dealing with Thor’s rage of the unfairness of it all before being berated sternly by their father upon their escape and then being magic-bound for a month…

No, that wouldn’t do. The Vanir were not a people to face twice.

Well, that left seven other realms that would disembowel him on sight and one that would send him either packing back to Asgard or not even bother with the nonsense of his presence and shoot him in the head, as Midgardians seemed to be fond of doing. So in the basic outcome, he had nowhere to go and no one to run to.

Well…there was always the Queen.

Surely Frigga would aid him…right? After all, she had been the only one who visited him in his cell, alone and bored to death as he was destined to remain. His first reaction to her could be related to that of a cat threatened with a bath, but seeing as she still listened to him as her visits continued, he had accepted and even come to look forward to her presence. And he had told her much, though not nearly enough when the entire thing was laid upon the table. Besides, he doubted that she would believe him even if she loved him and looked for only the good in him.

The odds had always been against him in his life. Liesmith he was called, but that name was derived from the various times he told far too much of the truth and somebody didn’t like hearing it. Only later had he actually put use to the name himself, deciding that if that was their opinion of him, he could at least make it fact and therefore become that which was expected of him.

In the end, Loki decided his Mother deserved a last call from him in the least. Even if she refused him aid, he would bid her farewell because she was the only one in his eyes who ever stopped to recognize him. He would return the favor, if but only this one time.

Once again the master magician closed his eyes, his magic pulsing through his being as he directed himself to another place, another destination. It only took mere seconds and instantly he felt the change in the air.

He opened his emerald orbs, planning to cast a smile upon his Mother’s face in the sly greetings he was known for. However the sight that formed before him was not of anything he expected.

“Loki!”

Held captive in the arms of what could only be described as a berserker elf was the sweet Queen of Asgard and more importantly, his mother. Malekith stood by; his eyes widened a bit by the abrupt appearance of the darker prince. Loki knew him well from the stories he had been told and the records of magic regarding the defeat and destruction of the elven race. But never had he thought to be confronted by him.

Well, now that he actually thought about it, if he had not been so consumed by the bitterness of his thoughts, he might have questioned just why the elves had attacked in the first place which resulted in his accidental freedom. He may have even considered allying with them just to become clear of Asgard’s forces but now…

Now they held the only person he loved and willingly loved him back. Now they had crossed the line and he would tear them apart for laying a single hand on her skin. Nothing would be left of them to so much as twitch.

“Release her, Malekith.” Loki displayed his teeth through snarling lips. “Or I swear to the very fabric of your existence that I will kill you with means that would make death seem a gentle outcome.”

The dark elf raised an inquisitive eyebrow, taking in the hackle-raised prince before him.

“Of all those within this realm, I had expected you the least, Silvertounge.” The deep voice was straight to the point and as cutting as the eyes that glared upon the escapee. “But of all those in this place, you would be one to easily walk through my barriers.”

Loki hissed.

“You will let her go alive and well now.” He commanded, his voice dripping with threats. “Do not make me say it again, creature.”

Malekith stared at him, his gaze analyzing and calculating, but he made no move. The room was silent except for Frigga’s occasional sounds of distress by unneeded pressure place upon her by her captor. Loki’s eye did not leave the dark elves however, knowing this to be a simple tactic of diverting his attention or riling him. Neither would be acted upon though, but inwardly his soul was raging at the hurt placed over his Mother and he vowed to the very core of his being that they would pay.

Finally, after the rather dramatic pause that hung upon the air, Malekith straightened himself, interest sparked in his face.

“You are surprising, Liesmith, for a traitor.”

The elf rolled his gaze between Frigga and her adoptive son. How he had known anything of Loki was odd to her, for it showed plainly over her features, but the prince only filed the fact away.

“Of all the things I am, a traitor is devoid of being pinned.” Loki stated, his face hard. “You avoid the matter at hand. Let her go.”

“You can do naught to me while I hold her in my grasp, little giant.” The smooth words rolled over Malekith’s tongue in an accented tone. “She keeps things hidden from us and I will have them known.”

Loki looked to his Mother.

“If she finds you unworthy of this information then I don’t doubt that you are just that.”

The Queen took on a pained expression at the double meaning of the words, but her son did not hold her eyes and directed his attention completely to the elf.
“She will speak no words she does not wish you to hear. Release her and perhaps I can aid you instead.”

Malekith gained a ghost of a smile over his lips.

“You care for your Mother.” He spoke the fact carefully. “The sentiment is mutual then.”

Loki made no comment, disliking the calmness of the elf and the next few words hit him hard and suddenly.

“You will come with us or we will kill her now and find what we need without her.”

Green eyes grew large at the sudden demand and his first instinct to reject, run and oppose can ravishing over him like a waterfall. How dare they threaten him! He had to find another path, another bargain to present, one that left Frigga free and him able to eliminate this threat.

“Take me alone and I shall have little hardship finding what you want. Lay so much as a scratch on her and I will not comply.”

“The terms I have spoken will not change, Liesmith.” Malekith tilted his head back. “You will come or I will have her slaughtered. I will do no other rout.”

Magic. Maybe he could blast the berserker from his mother with it. If he aimed well he could avoid having her throat slashed by the blade guarding her vulnerable skin. He could do it, if he was careful. His vision was tunneled on his Mother. He could….

The sword at her neck suddenly moved and drew quick, ruby blood causing Loki to take an urgent step forward as it trickled over the smooth whiteness of the Queen’s complexion.

“Stop that you infernal beast! I will come, I will come!” The angered shout escaped him before he knew it and he stood shaking in rage even as the blade stilled, but released no tension from the small wound. “Remove your weapon from her! I have said I will come!”

“Loki no!” The Queen’s cry was raw and worried. “You must no-ah!”

The pained sound that escaped between his Mother’s lips as her shoulder was cruelly slashed was enough to make Loki flood with desperate want for vengeance. He turned on Malekith, eyes boiling with molten emotions.

“Take me then!” He held out his fisted hands shaking with rage and the wrists exposed for simple binding. “But you will harm her no more! Those are my terms if you want my cooperation!”

His heart hammered in his chest. Loki knew he had no means and certainly no grounds for bargaining, but he considered this a necessary step and truthfully, who wouldn’t? He held his breath, waiting for the cold-eyed elf to answer. His insides quivered and shook, but he did not back down the ferocity of the determined glare he held with Malekith.

In the distance, Loki could make out the distinct shouts of Thor as he bounded through the halls. Odin too, was no doubt on his way and would arrive soon. They only needed time and then they could save his Mother and himself, regardless if he was once again cast into a cell. She would be safe and he would know that neither his once-father and not-brother would be more careful then to let the Queen alone again.

They only needed time….

Malekith smiled a thing that did not suit his face and gave his features a crueler tint.

“No restraints will be needed for now.” He waved a hand in the air and the room suddenly began to fade, the elven magic cast ready to pull them to another place of Malekith’s choosing.

Just the split second before the walls of Asgard’s palace dissipated into nothing, Loki witnessed Thor burst into the chamber, his hammer pounding through the weakening barrier. He rushed into the chamber, frantic and searching.

Their eyes met a miniscule of a second passing as they held the gaze.

Then everything was white and the room was gone, Thor’s enraged cry still ringing in Loki’s ears as he realized just what Malekith had done.

Chapter Text

The moment they arrived within the elven vessel, both Loki and his Mother were immediately confined. With their forces steadily being destroyed, Malekith and his people were forced to flee Asgard in order to regroup and the disgraced prince knew that they’re put-off interrogation would come in only a matter of time. The legends of the Dark Elves relayed them to be a race that was hardly committed to keeping prisoners. They would come soon, he knew, and they would bring their rage with them.

Loki had placed himself by the wall where he knew the door to be only hours before. After clamping him in magical restraints and shoving him after his Mother, the passage had all but melded into the wall, leaving not even a crack to escape from. And while the air was stale, Loki was simply glad that the blockage had not taken their supply of oxygen with it.

He traced the unseen opening with nimble fingers, blatantly avoiding any confrontation with the woman who watched his back from the floor, her own wrists restrained like that of her son’s. She would have heard and analyzed his words before their captivity. She had seen his reaction to the spilling of her blood and she knew, she knew that there was more to his burned heart then he let on. No doubt she would start digging through him to find the missing piece that was to be found, the part of the story that changed him so.

His emerald eyes slid shut. She could never know, none of them could lest they become distraught and look at him knowing how he had failed so devastatingly. How he had sullied his already tarnished name in ways no prince ever should.

“Speak to me.”
Loki’s head twitched back toward her, but he did not look at her directly.

“Something goes on within you, Loki.” Frigga’s gentle voice coaxed the darkness of their cell. “I will not leave you to suffer it alone. Not while I am here.”

Loki turned, hands falling to his sides as his gaze was cast upon the sightless ground.

“There is nothing I desire to share with you.” He let out a heavy breath through his nose, looking to the ceiling, determined not to see her face. “Your sentiment is misplaced.”

There was the rustling of fabric as the Queen rose from the floor, stepping to cover the space between them. Her shoed feet made a comforting clack over the marble ground and when she came to stop before him a wisp of flourishing roses caressed his senses. It was a scent he had known even as a child, cradled to her bosom after running to her for comfort or love. How he craved to be held in those arms once again, untouched and naive to the cruelties of the harsh world.
Her hand came to rest on his cheek and Loki nearly flinched at the soft contact, lost in his mind.

“I know my son, Loki, do not try to hide yourself in the safety of your crude shell.” Frigga’s voice was tense, but true. “You have said I not your Mother, but your own actions contradict you. It was I who coddled you as a babe, little one, and you must know that your name is imprinted forever on my heart.”

Loki’s hand came slowly up to hers, pausing over her skin. It hovered there, unsure. He knew that what she said was truth, but he could not allow it. Already he had displayed too much to her. He had to cut the string before the knot was tied. No amount of love could justify what he would bring upon her if he enlightened her. Never did he wish for disgust to be directed upon him from the one person he held more precious than his own life.

Carefully, he clasped her hand in his, met her eyes evenly, and pulled it from his face with a cruel gentleness.

“Do not waste your affections on one such as me, Your Highness.” He brought her hand to his lips and delivered a formal kiss to her unblemished skin. “I could not let the wife of my captor die within my presence. We both know my death would have been long and filled with agony had I not intervened when possible. Do not think it an emotional attachment between us.”

“You deny your own actions?”

Loki smiled at her.

“I deny what you believe to have read and analyzed in my actions, dear Lady. You dig too deep and yet there is nothing for you to find.”

The Queen straightened, not giving him any leeway in his implied words.

“The boy I raised, Loki.” She stated. “He lies within you and I will find him.”

The young man sighed, the tone of his exhaling breath pouring out a bitter sound. He looked at the woman before him, the one he had considered solitude his entire life.

“He is dead.” Loki spit out emotionlessly. “Gone. Fallen into an abyss with no way of returning. You would have better luck looking to your golden son rather than digging for the silver outcast. He was always the more precious of the two.”

“Not to me, never to me, Loki. You were both equal pieces of my heart, always.”

“Always?” The dark prince demanded. “Always equal? Even before you were forced to take me in? When there was only Thor?”

The Queen did not hesitate in replying to the questioning of her affection and answered him truly.

“Even after Thor’s birth I felt an empty spot in me, a desolate place that lacked the ability to make me feel complete. I could have no more children, I could not fill the desire to give life as any mother would and I was destroyed.” She paused, eyes closing as if remembering something. “When you were brought to me, you made me whole and you made me see that though I could have no more children of my own, you had no family to call yours. I knew I had to try for you and for myself. I wanted to give you everything a mother could.”

He stared hard at her for a few intense moments, soaking in the raw feeling her expression told of. Her words struck him deep and hurt him physically. Had he been so ungrateful of her in his younger years? Why had he accepted her motherly ways without question, yet had truly yearned for Odin’s attention, the man who never paid him mind and had cast him away without a second thought. Why had he sought to be like his arrogant brother whose friends mocked and laughed at him? Why had he looked for his own friends, only to be scorned for his efforts? Why had he looked to others when his dearest and truest friend had always been her? He had asked himself these questions over and over, only to feel more depressed and bitter. Her blooming love was a sword in his heart and he couldn’t allow it to affect him, who deserved nothing of her kindness.

He tore his gaze away from hers, determined not to reveal himself again.

“It seems that your efforts were not enough, Allmother. The beast you see before you is all that came of your toils.”
His mother frowned, her orbs earnest.

“That is not-“

“I do not wish to speak of it anymore!” Loki snapped at her, snarling slighting with the words to define his point.

Frigga’s lips thinned and her eyes sparked flames that came from the maternal instinct all mothers hold. However, she did not reply to his words, obviously taking the hurt and sorrow quietly. She only stood there, hands clasping the sides of her skirts and her head downcast and in Loki’s eyes, she was as beautiful as ever, even in her anger and frustration that she contained. Even in the dull darkness of their prison, she lit his world like so many times in the past, being the star of his days and the center of his heart, but so, so looked over.

The present was a vicious monster and Loki understood that the past was written and would not be repeated. Now she was the just Queen of Asgard, not his mother or comforter, and he was nothing but a convicted criminal, trapped with her in the captivity of elves until they were rescued and then he would be returned to finish his life-sentence in prison.

The relationship of mother and son was gone now, and no matter how desperately either of them wished it back, it would remain shattered with no hope of being fixed.

“What do they want from you?” Loki asked in a collected tone, breaking the silence between them. “What is it that causes a supposedly extinct race to reappear so suddenly? What has Asgard, which could call Malekith’s presence once again and induce the kidnapping of her Allmother?”

The Queen’s shoulders slumped, the tension draining from her form as she looked upon her adoptive child through watery eyes.

“Jane….” Her voice trailed off as she regained her composure. However before she could continue Loki’s face scowled and he cut her off.
“Thor’s human?” He bit out, making his disgust known. “What has she to do with any of this?”

Frigga adapted a scolding look and her cool eyes berated her youngest for speaking in such a manner. Not that Loki felt any remorse for the words, or how they were spoken so carelessly. He had only seen the girl, this Jane, through the vision of the Destroyer and he had been repelled by the sight of her. She, the woman who took the credit for changing his brother and teaching him a lesson in the art of peace. She had stolen the products of his deeds and had named them her own, leaving Loki’s involvement to be seen as villainous and wicked. The plan he had set to instruct his brother had worked, but the credit was once again slipped from his fingers by ignorance and stupidity.

Let the elves take her, for all I care. He thought angrily of the young woman. There are plenty of other women Thor could swoon and wed. He’d get over it in time.

“She uncovered something that should have been destroyed long ago.” Frigga continued gravely. “Her body is holds the Aether, Loki. If it is not released from her soon…she will die.”

Loki’s eyes widened, his mouth dropping slack as he gaped at her. He had to admit, he had not expected that kind of news when it came to the mortal. The image of Thor being an oaf while visiting her and causing this mess came to mind first. He had had not idea to consider Jane the main factor of Asgard’s destruction and his Mother’s captivity.

“The Aether?” He shook his head, disbelieving. “That is not possible. Bor…he had it broke, demolished. How could a lowly human find that which is no longer?”
The Queen sighed, clasping her hands before her, her dress rippling with the movement.

“It seems that it was not as broken as we believed. Jane discovered it by accident, through a portal that should not have been easily discovered.” Her face hardened. “Bor was an outrageous fool not to be rid of it when he had the chance. He held the power to do so.”

Loki’s brow creased in slight amusement, a small smile creeping onto his face as he listened to his Mother’s condemning tone. Had Bor still lived, no doubt she would have given him a vast piece of her mind. The image was a curious one to behold.

“You would call your husband’s father and your former King a fool?” He cocked his head to the side, the grin widening. “What happened to believing that such people have their purposes for doing such things?”

“He most likely did have a purpose.”

Loki grinned.

“But to call one a fool?”

Frigga pursed her lips in a displeased manner at the tease.

“Even a King can be a fool at times.” She stated sternly, her eyes boring into his with something that could only be described as rage.

Loki recoiled mentally at the sight, his brain making calculations.

The amusement he held vanished suddenly with her words and instead there settled a crude understanding. His hands clenched into fists and he turned briskly once more to the wall, his back all his Mother could see of him.

“I see.”

The words were clipped cleanly as they left his mouth and he once again began to trace his fingers over the surface before him. Behind him, Frigga was staring at her boy, wondering what had turned his mood so flippantly.

“Loki?”

The dark prince made no response, firmly acting as though he may have found an escape route for them and putting all of his attention there. He ignored her, letting an impassive mask fall over him as she rounded to his side, concern glistening in her eyes. The rage was gone now, but the echo of her words and the look in her eyes remained planted in his mind.

“Loki….” She rested a hand over his moving digits, once more making contact with him in a maternal way. “What is wrong?”

He ground his teeth but did not look at her.

“Am I truly such a mistake?” He hissed out bitterly, though his reason was telling him to backpedal, that he could not make it seem like he wanted her love. “Was he a fool to take me? You say he had purpose for me, but you also say that Kings can have foolish purposes. Do you…am…am I one of those? Was my birth right truly to die?”

Frigga adapted an expression of pure shock as she listened and quite suddenly wrapped him in her arms and pulled him close. He made no resistance to the action, letting him be drawn near to her limply and rested his head against her shoulder. He closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of being held by her once again. He knew he was wrong for leading her on again, making her believe that their bond could be saved, but…a few moments would hurt nothing, right?

“Did Odin tell you this?” The Queen questioned, her heart pounding. Loki made no comment, and she knew that it had been so. She brushed her fingers through the dark locks over her son’s head, lamenting at the cruelty he’d been shown. He didn’t stop her, though his duty was screaming at him now. For her safety, he could not allow this....!

“Odin was a fool when it came to you Loki, but not in the manner you think. He was a fool in his treatment of you and he should have been more kind. But the day he put you in my arms…” She moved her hands to Loki’s face and held it between her hands, their foreheads touching. “The day he placed you in my arms was the day he did his most glorious action. I have loved you since that day and every day since. Thor is my child of flesh and blood, but you are the child of my heart. You and your brother are my whole world and I would crumble without either of you. Remember what I just said moments ago? You both make me whole and nothing can change that.”

Loki kept his silence as she placed a kiss over his brow. She would not stop trying to make him open up, regardless of his avoidances. And he, even with the knowledge of why he had to push her away, was pained at the idea. He knew it, knew it was necessary, yet he could find no strength to do so.
“I…” Loki stopped, eyes snapping towards the hidden entrance in alarm.

Cracks that had been magically welded shut suddenly reappeared and bustling noises were coming from the other side of the passage. The elves were there and they were opening the door.
Without a second thought, Loki had an arm around a wide-eyed Frigga and was pulling her back from the wall. He pushed her behind him in a protective instinct as the passage was opened and a dim light poured into the cell. He felt his Mother’s hand grip at the back of his shirt, whether to confirm to him her presence or from fear he did not know but it was reluctantly comforting and he was grateful.

Loki squinted at the new addition of light, watching as the form of Malekith and four other elves enter the chamber. He tensed as his vision adjusted, waiting for whatever they were to do. The silhouettes stepped over the passage and halted there, the frightening eyes of their leader boring into the prisoners.
“Where is the human?” Malekith demanded, cutting straight to the point with his attention entirely focused on Frigga.

Loki felt a gentle tug on his shirt as he mother calmly stepped more into their captor’s sight from behind her younger son. He wanted to conceal her completely, hide her from the horrors of being under another’s mercy, but her action displayed her fearlessness of the elves and if made Loki feel ashamed. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Malekith, he had faced far crueler beings then he, but he had once been held imprisoned long enough to understand that one did not provoke those above them too much. At least not if you didn’t want to be hurt.

Bravery, defiance, determination…they were all things that more often than not, riled the ones who had the power to make life miserable for a captive. He knew this from a horrible firsthand experience, but how was to make his Mother understand this?

Frigga’s move, though flushing with all the might and boldness of a Queen of Asgard, would not please the elves. The last thing Loki wanted was to be left in the darkness of this cell, tearfully holding his not-Mother’s corpse in his arms and wondering what Odin would do to him.

Regardless, she had made her move and Loki knew that there was no drawing back from the situation now, or ever for that fact.

“She is within the safety of my eldest son. You cannot hope to find her.”

Asgard’s Queen stood tall, his sharp chin raised royally as she stared down the creatures who had taken her and her son. Even in a bloodied blue dress and her hair slightly messed, she was regal to Loki. No doubt the elves saw this as well, but they were not a race to be easily swayed by the fierceness of a female rebel from another race.

“The Aether will be returned to us, your world will be returned to darkness and my kin and I will no longer suffer your parasite kind to linger.” The unmasked elf to Malekith’s right was the one who had spoken. “You had no right to take what was ours and we will have it returned to us.”

“You killed your own people to ensure your own survival and yet you name us the parasites?” Loki scoffed at the elf, pulling the attention towards him. “Clearly you are confused in the mind. Only the humans imitate your destructive nature in such a manner.“

The elf bristled openly at the words and opened his mouth to counterattack them before Malekith’s hand rose to signal his silence. Smug, Loki watched as the elf shut his mouth and glared with icy blue eyes at the prince. It was not hard to see that he was young for his race, foolish and tactless. He was easy prey and practically blind in heavy matters like the one at hand.

Malekith leveled Loki with a glare.

“Your tongue suits you ill here, Liesmith.” His tone remained ever impassive. “Do not make it necessary for us to cut it out.”

“My son shall not be harmed in any manner, Malekith.” Frigga spoke fervently. “Not if you ever wish to gain the location of the girl.”

The elf turned to her, staring.

“You seemed to have it confused, Allmother.” He signaled to the elves behind him with the wave of a hand. “I know you would never relay to me the information willingly, now or ever.”

The elves moved forward and Loki’s heart spurred in terror at the idea of them dragging his Mother away for torment. His pulse quickened erratically and he once again pulled the Queen behind him, concealing her completely from view.

They grabbed him by the arms with their frosty hands and began to pull him away from Frigga, who cried out against the action. He fought against them, not willing to let them hurt the Queen. They disregarded his struggles though, two of the creatures twisting his arms behind him on either side and yanking him away from his Mother.

“You would never give the location, Lady Frigga.” Malekith continued tonelessly, watching as Loki thrashed. “Not through pain or desperation of any kind for you own sake.”

He slowly turned his head to face the Queen, her complexion going completely white as she realized what he meant. Anguish sprang to her eyes and she drove forward, only to be held back easily by the two remaining elves.

“You will not touch him!” She shouted angrily, scratching and fighting the elves like a feral feline. “You will not!”

Loki looked to Malekith at his words, mouth slightly agape with shock as he was pulled bodily from the chamber, his mother crying out in rage and yelling his name. He battled to be with her, to ease her worries of what was to come but it was no use. He was dragged out of the cell with the echoes of Frigga’s anger rattling his ears.

He wanted to let him know everything would be okay and not to fear for him.

But how could he tell her that when he already feared for himself?

Chapter Text

It took all four elves to hold Loki down against the stone slab he’d been dragged to. The entire way to the wretched chamber he now struggled in, he had fought with all his might to get free. His efforts had been futile, however, and had left him weary and bruised by the impatient fists of his captors. Now he lay pinned helplessly, awaiting whatever torments that would be inflicted upon him as they clamped him to the surface of the rock. The restraints bit into his limbs, slicing his delicate skin without difficulty. Even as they lifted their hands and backed away from him, he writhed in battle with his bonds, unwilling to submit without putting up a fight.

It mattered little in the long run. His straining became weakened with his state and the elves did naught but watch him thrash uselessly on the slab, their faces betraying nothing of what they felt. Malekith stood further from them all, grey hands clasped behind his back and cool eyes never leaving Loki’s form. Not one of the creatures made so much as a sound and only the captive’s tired heaving could be heard in the chamber.

Even so, the disgraced prince was ode to stop testing the clamps. However in the end he was forced to let his aching body rest, ceasing his wild movements and rolling his sweat-covered head away from the eyes of the elves. His emerald eyes closed with exhaustion and he went completely limp, finally coming to terms with the fact that he could not slip away and that he was glued to his position. He hated being at their mercy, replaying the role he had escaped a little more than two years prior. Their silence was pounding, screaming in his ears and he shut himself out from their grating muteness.

Well, perhaps they would keep their distance then. After all, he could hardly complain if his own torture was being delayed by their awkward ways. However Malekith shattered those desperate hopes by stepping forward, the sound travelling swiftly through the air to Loki’s ears. Inwardly, his let out a traumatized screech that burned at him to flee, reliving things that never should have even occurred.

An elven hand came to rest carefully by his head, drawing an unwanted flinch from his body at the radiating darkness that came with the being.

“You have finished your pointless writhing then?” The elf’s question was spoken slowly, factually and with barely any tone whatsoever and Loki was surprised by the lack of taunting that usually came to one in his position.

The elves were unique, that he could not deign, but that did not make his response to Malekith mandatory. For all of their superior technologies and wisdom, they lacked the humanity to be considered likable. A race of beings with hardly a sliver of true emotions that they developed, the feeling being more ‘implanted’ than truly felt. So the trickster held his tongue still, unwilling to be intimidated by the very creatures who imprisoned him once again.

“This will not succeed, Malekith.” He snarled out between his teeth. “Frigga will not risk the universe, let alone Thor’s lover, for the sake of her criminal second child.”

The elf merely raised an eyebrow, keeping his gaze ever down and upon his victim.

“A Queen might be willing to hold fast for her kingdom in the face of another’s agony. But a mother? There is not a woman in existence that would willfully subject their offspring to torture without cracking.”

He waves towards one of the elves behind him, signaling him with the dark words of their language. The elf promptly murmurs back and bows, leaving the room quickly to do whatever he was bid. Loki watch him go, nervousness creeping up his spine and making it a difficult task to remain from twitching in anticipation. He didn’t know what Malekith had in mind for him and he couldn’t help but feel a sliver of terror.

Inside of his weary frame, the fallen prince prayed that his mother wouldn’t implode with grief at whatever the sight of him returning would be. She had to remain strong, for both of them. There was no doubt in his mind that she would hold against the bribes their captors sent her way for a while, but for how long? Frigga, though empowered with the stone will of a monarch was not prone to bending her stubbornness. But as Malekith had stated, Frigga was also a mother and took her children to be her light. Even with Loki’s consistent failures to her, he knew that her undeserved love for him could very well be their undoing.

As the thoughts raced through Loki’s mind, the head of his misery and the leader of the elves was watching his turned face with interest. He knew that the blasted and thrice-cursed elf found him to simply be an obstacle in the way of his race’s survival; he did not seem to begrudge himself the chance to look over his prisoner with a contemplating gaze. The disgraced prince could almost feel the emotionless eyes analyzing every aspect of his expression. The silence of the chamber made the situation even more awkward and uncomfortable for the captive and it everything Loki had to keep himself from squirming from the sheer oddness of it all.

Then the elf returned and the prince found himself stopping a relieved sigh when Malekith turned away from him. However, the prospect of promised pain so soon to become truth stopped him from fully enjoying the moment.

“What Asgardians believe of my race is naught by foolish tales for children and the unstable in the mind.” The dark creature spoke suddenly, his back blocking Loki’s view of what the subordinate elf had handed over. “Contrary to your beliefs, we are not beings that survive off the pain of others. We do not take prisoners unless absolutely needed and we dispose of them as soon as convenient.”

Loki piled up the fraying remnants of his courage in places like these and spoke clearly, his voice resounding in the room.

“That information is useful, considering that I am the current prisoner under your power.” He looked to the blackened ceiling and swallowed, putting aside the anxious feelings that bubbled inside of him. “Am I to be slaughtered then? Will you present to my mother the bloody remains of her troubled child and expect her to babble out the words you seek so that you might kill her also, allowing her to know the fate of what lies for her last son after her death? She may mourn me creature, but she will not give what you demand in a last revenge against you for what you will have done to me.”

Malekith turned back to him, meeting his green eyes dead on and holding the path between them effortlessly. His eyes were pits of nothingness, only ambition for his race gleaming in the hollow orbs within his pale skull.

“Another misconception of your.…’kind’, if that is what you claim them to be, Jotun.” He raised his chin, tilting his armored head back. “My ilk does not practice the gruesome torments the other and more ‘lightened’ peoples of the universe do. Your Mother shall tell all, but your lifeless and tortured corpse will not be needed for the means of persuasion.”

Loki watched with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as the elf reviewed to him a syringe, made and formed with delicately blown glass. The sharpened needle was produced between two curled ends of shining crystal, the pusher at the end forming a beautiful loop where Malekith’s finger was lightly placed. Within the container was a glistening yellow substance, swirling wondrously and waving within its confinements. He didn’t need to look twice to understand what exactly the fluid was.

It was magic, a liquefied spell to be injected into a subject to work at its fullest and to bring about the most efficient results for the wielder. Loki knew its ability and had even studied it within the healing arts of magical properties in his learning as a young and naive boy. The healers of Asgard often wove complex medicines for suffering and dying patients, diverting the need for surgeries and the long, tedious treatment for sicknesses. The style of recovering a patient was quick and most effective, bypassing many deaths to people of terrible injuries. He had been told Frigga herself had been given one after Thor’s difficult birth and when she was believed to be close to the fatal tip of life. It was the only reason for her still having the use of oxygen in her lungs and a heart that pounded love into so many. It was the reason he had ever experience the joy of seeking out his maternal parent and telling her of his issues while she listened carefully to him.
Yes, liquefied magic could be good, a useful things to those with no hope of living. But to a prisoner? Loki knew instinctively that whatever Malekith had woven into that syringe, it was not meant for aiding him with anything other than a very unpleasant experience.

“You recognize it, this magical form.” The elf said, nodding with approval. “The spell I have concocted for you is called Veritas in the elvish tongue, a difficult creation.”

A cold hand came to rest on Loki’s upper arms, resulting in a violent flinch from him as the elf touched the tip of the needle to his arm. A shiver wracked his frame and he looked away from the scene.

“The effects are not immediate, however they repetitive once they begin.” The sharp point was pushed, breaking into his skin and forced into the muscles. As the substance was slowly injected, Loki gaze a long hiss of pain, his eyes shut tight and teeth grit. “Firstly, the magic within the fluid itself is limited, though the spell will remain. It will feed off your own magical force and therefore block it from your capability to use.”

As Malekith handed the syringe back to the subordinate, Loki could feel an invading tingle travel up his arm, teasing and prodding his body as it moved relentlessly through him. As the elf said, the feel for his magic steadily began to dwindle, leaving him even more exhausted and heavy, as though large weights had been placed over his ribs and limbs. He fidgeted under the influence, wiggling vainly to stop the sensation from taking over.

“Secondly, you will become hypersensitive.” Malekith lay his hand over his victim’s arm again, his facial expression never changing as Loki moved frantically away, his nerves acting raw to the touch. “However this is the one effect of the spell that will not last. But the third aftereffect will be the most persistent. It will act as a random switch, draining you in the process.”

Loki cast an eye on the elf, trying desperately to keep his fear at bay.

“You will see things that are not, experience things that are not and you will be put through memories of the past as if they were repeating themselves.” The prince’s eyes widened in terror that took grasp of his very core, understanding dawning on his face as Malekith continued. “The final point will be death, resulting from the continuous shock your body and mind will suffer. Without the counterattack on this spell, you will die.”

The carefully laid dam he had built over the course of time, protecting him from events and immovable fear shattered, leaving Loki exposed before the elves. Even as Malekith gazed on the stricken victim before him, the prince’s mind drew blank from reality, dragging him to remembrances long due to be forgotten and discarded. He recalled the terrible emotions desolation, abandonment and ultimate betrayal, their situations bouncing violently around in his skull. He thrashed in his bonds against the waterfall of horror that poured over him, growling and spitting as a last defense against what was to come. It was a valiant attempt, but overly vain against the might of the overpowering shadow that took his senses.

A face appeared before his eyes, large, terrifying and grinning down upon him with eyes that burned into his very brain, a voice echoing in the past with beckoning and promise of rewards and punishment. In a unhopeful attempt, Loki tossed his head wildly side to side, begging his mind to clear and leave him in peace.

He could not go through it again…he couldn’t….

Watery emerald eyes pried open, looking to Malekith’s expressionless face, wondering how, how he could have known!? He closed his lids again, knowing he could not suffer through the past a second time without losing himself once again and this time for good. He would give anything, take anything, even die over reliving that what once was.

For a brief moment his façade cracked open, a split of the burning he felt coming to light in his eyes as he once again gazed at the elf before him, a crazed desperation coming over his features. His sanity felt as though it was on a thin fulcrum, tipping much too far to the acid on one side and preparing to roll him off.
“Don’t do this.” His voice was rusty, not begging or pleading, but simply asking the impossible of those who did not care and never would.

In Loki’s life, he had been lied to and his loyalties taken advantage of by those he had been willing to give his all for. It had been those in his own family who had worn masks and false demeanors against him, his ‘friends’ outright showing their bold disapproval and disgust for him without heeding the damage they caused. But he had also had many enemies, some so much more hating then others and so, so brutal in their actions towards him.

Brutally honest of their death wishes for him, their cruel plans for him and their opinions of his longing for admiration. They had shown him more truth of themselves to him than those he had always cared for, desired to please. In the end they did not care anymore than his foes and he would rather plead to his tormentor than ask of his family. Because at least then there was no means of him having his heart hurt deeper than already expected.

In response to his words, Malekith merely stared, holding the look for various seconds before signaling two elves over to unbind the suffering trickster. They didn’t handle him too roughly as they pulled him from the table, nearly limp and quivering in their grasp. As they moved him from the chamber, following their leader back to the cell, he found himself curious towards his captors with a new light. They were strange in their beliefs and their actions certainly displayed a different picture to that which the Asgardian bards and books painted for entertainment and lore.

When Malekith touched the door, opening by the simple friction of skin, Loki tried to squirm from his holders, not wishing his mother to witness the state he would soon be in. However his resistance was dealt with quickly and Loki soon found himself thrown to the floor of their cell, the door closing behind him and sealing as if it never existed. The hypersensitivity of his skin had toned down since his injection, but the crude landing upon the marble ground caused him to cry out in pain, clenching his fists and snapping his jaw shut to fight it off with the meager tool of sheer willpower. He could deal with it…he just needed to be calm, breath evenly and focus on something other than the pain…other than the pain….

“Loki!”

With the gentle perfume of roses about her that Loki could not help by feel grateful for, Frigga was soon kneeling by her dejected child’s side, carefully scooping him into the safety of her soft arms. She held him to her breast as he lie still, panting and thankful that the illusions of his mind had faded before his arrival back into the cell. His mother’s loving hand was brushing strands of loose hair from his face before looking him over for injuries of any kind. Loki let her, too worn out from the magic sucking at his reserves to tell her what Malekith had done to his weary form.

Her slim fingers prodded him smoothly over his body, being sure not to cause him any sort of discomfort. However her thorough examination showed no signs of beatings or other agonizing practices, much to her relief. She sighed with the stress of being separated from him waning, but when she met his eyes, she must have seen something that frightened her terribly. Loki hoped he did not seem weak or easily read into like an open book on display. She could not see his terror; he could not allow it to be for he knew that she would surely break over the things she would see.

Silver tears slid over her cheeks despite his hardest efforts to shield his inner self from her in his exhausted state and she held him tighter to herself in an attempt to hide him from all the world.

“Oh poor, sweet child, what did he do to hurt you so?” The Queen lamented, weeping into his black locks after finding not even a small wound to tend to. “What has caused such fear to surface in your precious eyes?”

Loki looked away, heart heavy with the idea that he could not even save her from himself. She would see him for what and who he was, the shambles of a once bright garden in bloom, reduced to dried leaves and unfertilized soil. She knew him far too well, leaving him no chance to shell himself completely from her piercing gaze. At one point, as a small boy, he would have loved the attention directed on him, willingly leaving himself open to her with a large smile. But now the thought only brought an agonized ache to his chest and he had to force himself to look away.

However, Frigga’s persistent spirit would not allow such a shutdown to occur and she gently tipped his head towards her once again.

“Loki, please.” She insisted lightly, rubbing two of her fingers across his cheek before leaning down to kiss his forehead. “I must know.”

He blinked, the mysterious sting unwilling to fade that seemed to have suddenly come. He would not speak of anything to her. She was far too dear to be lost, too motherly to be hurt and too kind to be torn apart by raging and vengeful things that haunted his every moment. She was his everything and all he had that remained and linked him to who he had been before. If he was to die soon, from the horrifying shock of being put through all the past torments he had suffered, he wanted her to be safe. It was a sacrifice towards his own joy of halving his burdens, but he could cope as he always had.

She deserved a better son and if he couldn’t give her that, he would not harm her with things that would only make her weep for him after his soul departed from his body. When the memories of his pain came, he would not let it be known to her, ever.

So he merely stared at her longingly and overflowing with the want to embrace her, a single tear running down his cheek as he kept his silence.
And Frigga wept for him, hugging a boy who dared not return the gesture, telling him there was nothing to fear and that she would always remain by him. In Loki’s mind he cursed Odin for snatching a runt from a defeated race of monsters for himself, allowing him to believe that this beautiful woman was he maternal paradise when hurt.

She cried upon him and he knew that everything would have been better had he been speared through as a babe, never to know the pangs of believing one thing, when the exact opposite was truth.

Chapter Text

Thor was on the rampage.

From the moment Malekith and Loki had vanished with his Mother he had been cracking skulls and pounding elf-like nails right and left. Even after the elven forces had fled Asgard in haste the golden prince was not to be calmed. He had gone from corpse to corpse, checking to see if all his foes were indeed dead. Any elf found living and wounded was immediately shaken vigorously and questioned on where the others had taken his Mother to the point of traumatizing the dark creatures.

None could answer him completely in their fear and therefore they proved no worth to him.

In his rage he would have murdered the helpless captives at his feet had Sif not interfered in due time. She argued with him to get his head level and eventually she had prevented him from brutally beating the frightened elves to death.

Since then however, he had been moody and completely absorbed in the defeat of the revived and ancient enemy. His phrases and sentences were clipped or snapped through his lips, daring any to challenge him. His blue eyes radiated anger, hate, misery and ultimate determination like well-kindled flame in the night. He had slept little and had eaten less, his mind far away.

Odin too, had been nothing but bitter and more standoffish than usual towards his son and everybody else. When he wasn’t retired and cut off in the solitude of his private chambers, he was a cold figure, giving harsh, crude orders and listening to little advice whispered into his ears by eager councilmen.
With a mere warning tone he sent them quivering from his presence.

Both remaining royals when met in the same room, would clash violently in heated arguments or mutter to themselves about plans and ridiculous notions. Thor blamed Odin for not containing Loki better when the demand of the public made it an outcry and Odin blamed his blood son for not disposing of the disgraced prisoner on earth; instead bringing home shame and humiliation to the Royal House of Asgard. In the King’s mind, the humans had contained the right and deserved to punish the one who reaped havoc on their realm without mercy or compassion. Surely they could use him for learning and knowledge, as they were such primitive and wanting creatures. The fact that Loki had been prince and Frigga’s beloved child, he had been forced to show some merit of clemency where he felt none should ever be given.

Both Crown Prince and Allfather King agreed where the common problem laid and both wanted it taken care of by any means possible.

Loki, Lord of Mischief and Tricks had played his final round.

The moment he had left his cell he had overstepped his already restricted bounties and every chance of redemption or forgiveness from Thor was completely ground into dust. What little consideration for Loki’s wellbeing that had been left over from before was now nonexistent. The final act of betrayal had gone with the kidnapping of Frigga and if Thor ever found the escapee he had once called brother, he would show him his wrath without any form of mercy. He had had the chance to give his due, to serve his prison time and show his regret. By escaping, he had ruined even that.

Thor had spoken out against the death sentence for his once-sibling with dutiful loyalty for the remnants of their dead relationship between brothers. He had saved Loki from becoming little more than a test subject for the Midgardians and he had fought fervently against the more bloody punishments handed out to criminals like him. No once-brother of his would be mutilated and tortured, regardless of his crimes. Thor had stood as Loki’s only defense and had stood proudly.

In the end his brother had been condemned to serve the rest of his drawn out life in a cell, never to be granted leave and with only the minimum of things to do. He would not be harmed unless needed and his powers were to be contained within the restraining boundaries of the prison, not stripped completely. Frigga would not be permitted to see him however, and Odin had known it would affect Loki the most. Still, it was better than a timeless execution.

Then the mighty Allfather had ripped the Jotun runt of any ties to the royal family, naming him outcast and casting him from all that he had once clung to with hopes of exceptance. By the end of the formal sentencing, Loki had stood silent and pale, greeting no eyes besides a glance at his ex-mother as he was dragged forcefully back to the care of the jailers, compliant and never to see the light of day again.

Thor had stopped them before they left the main hall, telling Loki he may have rebelled against the counsel’s wishes for his fate, but that he hoped that the rest of his days were spent lonely and painfully foreboding. He wanted Loki to understand that all he had was ripped in twain, never to be mended. Too much suffering had come from his selfish deeds and Thor would not partake of the company of a murderer. The dark-haired prince had closed his eyes at the cruel words, too much a coward to face the mess he had so vilely created.

And the golden prince had made his point further aware to the prisoner by abandoning him to rot away in his cell until death.

From that day Thor had spent his days in making merry for the time lost in grieving and fighting. Sif and the Warriors Three had been his amusement and companions in that period, making the months pass by with ease. He had ventured to many lands and made new enemies before gaining more allies. Blooming laughter drifted from them and their tales grew longer and more were collected over the course of time. Together they feasted, travelled and forgot the past, as well as the unruly misfit they once knew as a tad-along eyesore of Thor’s.

The wicked presence of Loki was all too soon erased from their lives.

And while they forgot, Loki had been left alone, desolate and cut off from all he had known and may have loved. No one asked after him, no one inquired whether he was still alive and no one even bothered to utter his name. Nobody felt regret for these things either and Thor was included with those people. He was done protecting a vile creature that showed little to no empathy or guilt, incapable of being normal and true. It was only a surprise that it had lasted so long before the real colors of his brother’s demeanor were exposed.

So long had he shielded a monster in his midst.

The only gut-wrenching feeling Thor got when thinking of the sentencing was the fact that he had stopped the counsel from actually teaching his ‘brother’ a well-deserved lesson. Now, because of a lessened punishment, the fiend was liberated and working with the aid of Malekith and the only person who had shown the mangy rat any care was now held captive to them. Their Mother, the last who displayed any form of attachment to Loki after his deeds was now a wounded subject to his betrayal.

Thor had never thought himself capable of hating and being disgusted of Loki to the fullest extent until he had seen him disappear before him, kidnapping their mother and aligning himself with elves as allies. When he had raced across the marble floor to the place they had once stood, the golden prince had given a cry of anguish unmatched and bleeding out pain, cursing the one he had sworn to always guide and shield to the very depths of the abyss.

Loki, former tiny sibling of Thor. Loki, once the master magician of all of Asgard. Loki, the one he had fussed over as an elder brother when hurt or sad. Loki, the small, green-eyed boy who came to him at night in fear of nightmares and expected protection. Loki, right hand of the crown prince, ever faithful and ready. Loki, ever eager to prove himself a warrior, even when he knew it was futile. Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard and second in line for the throne.

Loki the traitor.

Thor closed his eyes as he stood alone in the privacy of his room, contemplating the depth of the past few years and all the bitterness they had presented to so many. Three years ago, the elder prince would have meandered to his little brother’s chambers, bursting in without invitation and then ranting all his troubles into the ears of the dark-haired boy who had been forced to put aside a book for him. By the end of the whining trip, Loki would have outlined a simple path for his brother to take through his thought process. Thor would have dawned on the ideas presented and he would run off to fix what he could or stay away from the things advised. His younger would scoff in amusement at his befuddled way and return to his reading, turning each page with care and admiration.

Loki, traitor, murderer and liar, tyrant to an innocent world and captor of the Frigga, Queen of Asgard.

Never in all his years had Thor thought of his innocent Loki causing the hurt he did and it stabbed the thunderer in the heart to have to acknowledge the fact of what he had lost. Always he would love and admire the young boy and companion he had growing up, a small, dark-haired brother to protect. The creature that Loki was now…was not akin or alike to the one he had known through childhood.

Like sifting sand through fingers, he had lost his cheery counterpart, watched him slip and change with little chance to aid or stop it. And now he found himself alone, groaning and pining mentally over the fact that he had allowed he whom he had loved so dearly once to live.

Once again Thor buried his face in the cradle of his hands, unable to stop the tornado of emotions that swirled endlessly through his soul, flinging shards of glass into those places he dare not wander. He hated Loki with a violent passion, but even through that horrible sensation, he questioned himself on the very roots of the issue.

Why? Why had his brother done such demeaning things to others? Why had he cast himself into the darkness of the evil, embracing it like a long-gone friend, tender and heartfelt? His mother had said Loki had felt cast aside by his family, a mere shadow to that of his glistening brother. Desperation for assurance of their love had driven him mad, she said, and he had only wished to be seen. Thor had believed her, for he had seen the tears his brother had wept as they battled, he had heard the shrill note in the echo of his voice and he had felt guilt for it. He had been willing to reinstate his desolate sibling if they ever met again. He had vowed to try to be a better person for the one who was devoured by the void.

Yes, Thor had clung to hope for Loki, only to have it smashed to nothingness at the invasion of Midgard. An invasion led by the dark prince himself, wild and maniacal like Thor had never seen before.

Hope died when Loki ruthlessly stabbed he who thought himself to be his brother, mocking the sentiments he had displayed.

Thor wasn’t stupid enough to make the same mistake twice, knowing the consequences of the last action. He did not falter again and place his emotions open to be torn asunder, yet even then he had failed and his mother had been the one to pay the ultimate price.

“Thor?”

The golden prince jerked, casting a tired glance behind him from where he stood leaning against the railing of his private balcony. Sif stood quietly in the doorway to his chambers, her stance stiff and her eyes carefully drawing him up to be analyzed. He regarded her for a few moments before once again turning away, prickled and stern.

“Do the warriors require me, Lady Sif?”

A sigh came through her parted lips.

“No. However Odin calls for your presence and…I wished to speak with you.”

Thor tensed slightly, but did not turn to face his friend and inquire on what might be the subject of their conversation. Instead his glaring eyes only pierced the scene of Asgard harder, as if he hoped to vent all his rage and grief towards the helpless place he called home. He knew why she was seeking him out and it was not something he wished to discuss at the time.

“We have to do something about the Aetha that lies within Jane. It cannot remain any longer.”

“I know this, Sif.”

Thor made a displeased grunt, twisting himself around to look at her with icy blue eyes. However, the stony gaze did nothing to faze the warrior maid and she drew herself to full height, her chin jutting up to meet his challenging stance. If he thought to frighten her off it would take more than a glower and steel voice to do it.

“Then why has nothing been done to find a solution?” She demanded thickly. “Each moment that passes gives the elves more chance to retrieve their weapon. We can wait no longer! Something should have been done the moment Foster arrived!”

The crown prince slammed a hand down on the railing by him and thunder rumbled in the distance, beckoning to the feelings that rolled through him. His face was clouded over with many emotions that combated each other for the surface.

“Thor….”
“I know these things! Do not think me to be negligent!” Thor stepped forward, fists clenched by his sides and shaking with strain. “But we were not the only side to gain captives from the battle! Any move we make could spell death for Asgard’s Queen and my Mother!”

The warrior maiden nodded grimly but gave him no leeway.

“Every realm created is under threat and there is little hope for any if you do nothing.” She held up a hand to silence him when he opened his lips to speak, her voice ranging above his. “Your Mother would not wish for many to die for her sake and I know that she would tell you that if she could. She was captured to prevent the elves from acquiring the Aetha and save your Jane. What will you do with her sacrifice?”

She would battle, Thor thought as he looked to his companion who stood firm and unmoved. She would do what needed to be done and pity to those who stood in the path to her ultimate destination. She was a mother, yes, but she was also a queen. The actions of defiance she demonstrated to Malekith proved that. Frigga loved completely and ruled without question.

But in the end, her heart betrayed her and her status only made her a target to be used as leverage. Was it worth it? To cherish one who would only push you away? To protect and govern over those who would have you die for them? Both Thor and Loki had been taught that their family life was second to duty, but what person could willingly live such a way? His mother had claimed that this same ‘duty’ was only a sliver of the reasons why Loki fell from light and while Thor did not believe it, perhaps she had a point.

Royalty love, breath, feel and hurt like any other, but unlike their subjects, they are forced to contain their emotions to a certain degree and not allow them to cross the line of proper. Odin himself was a perfect display of the rule, so much to the point of being seen as stone-like.

Blue eyes cast themselves to Sif, and Thor wondered if, as king, he would be sorrowing and friendless. It would be a desolate existence, to bear such a burden with no shoulder to lean on now that Loki was gone.

“I will speak of the matter with Father.” Thor reassured his comrade with a weary smile, his past foreboding thoughts bidding him to do well by his companions. “We have been so busy collecting the captives and cleaning the mess made, we have nearly forgotten the most vital task needed to be done. Thank you my friend, for making sure I am aware of the situation. It is…Father’s wish to go about this slowly, so as not to jump into a rash decision.”

The dark-haired woman bowed her head in acknowledgement of his words, returning his smile gently.

“Usually it would be Loki to do so, discover easy routes to take in difficult spots. However, given that he is gone, I sought to ensure your position did not overwhelm you.”

The golden prince’s expression went sour at the mention of his not-brother, but he made no comment. The sight of his displeasure did not skip by Sif’s vision though, as the glance she passed him was inquisitive and watchful. Thor deflected the look quickly, gathering himself up and launching towards another conversation topic.

“Why does Father summon me?”

“He wants you to be present for the executions of the elves.”

This hit Thor and his eyes widened with surprise. The attack had not even been three days ago and yet already the prisoners they had secured were being swiftly dealt with. While the Crown Prince held no regard for the dark creatures and surely would have killed them himself, he had not expected the task to be done so soon. Especially since the Queen and disgraced prince were missing, one likely being subjected to torment while the other laughed at his wit.

“Now?” Thor asked slipping past Sif and heading into his chambers to prepare. “But surely he would want to wait until…”

“That is one of the reasons I sought you out.” Sif followed him in, keeping a good distance as he donned his cloak and the armor he had discarded. “You knew nothing of this?”

Blue eyes met brown as Thor met the warrior-maiden’s orbs.

“I knew nothing of this. Father told me he was considering on what path to take from here. I had assumed that he also meant that he was analyzing what steps to take on rescuing Mother and securing Loki….but this action will only prove to anger Malekith further.”

Sif responded with a grave face, her lips in a thin line.

“Her Majesty made her choice when she distracted the elves from Jane.” She swallowed, looking away with shame and admiration. “I do not think she expected to live through the encounter, let alone be saved from them if she did. I…I don’t think that the Allfather plans to go after the Queen.”

Thor froze, his brow scrunched in disappointment as he looked over his companion’s face. She was sincere and her features showed the worry she felt, but that did not mean her words were correct. She was confused, because of course the Allfather seek to save his left-hand, Queen and ultimately his wife. The mere idea of him not doing such a thing was too astonishing for Thor to comprehend and far, far too vile.

He let out a hot breath, relaxing his shoulders in determination.

“He will not abandon her.” He met Sif’s gaze, hard and filled with promise. “And if he does so, I would rather face his wrath and all that of the nine realms, than leave my Mother to such a fate. We will find her.”

The maiden nodded her approval as his vow, putting a fist over her heart to express her own seal into the promise.

“And I would follow after you, now or until I die, facing off the horrors of your journey.” She held up her chin proudly, smirking at him a little. “For someone would have to keep you from hurting yourself.”

Letting out a thick sigh, Thor returned her smile, placing a beefy hand on her shoulder, not as a prince to a subject, but as a friend to a friend. For Sif had been by his side for as long as he could remember. He owed her much and together, with the Warriors Three, they had seen many a battle and vanquished vast foes with naught but unity to stand by them.

Loki, too, had once been a part of this knitting of loyalty. However once the selfishness of being without glory, honor and victories had begun to settle, he had become too bitter for even Thor to handle. Many times he had sent his brother sprawling into the dust for his carelessly cruel words or crude pranks. When he had used magic ha had expected to be praised for his work on the field and when he was met with the scorn of other warriors, he had fled like a coward from their eyes. Thor had stopped the brash words of the fighters, yet Loki had been anything but thankful. He glared at everyone and everything, never laughing except at their expense.

Shaking his head of the thoughts of his once-brother, Thor set himself towards the throne room, his jaw tightly set and Sif patting dutifully behind him. What need had he for a sibling when he had companions far more reliable than the second prince had ever been? None.

“Thor, when you find Loki….what will you do?” Sif suddenly questioned her voice quiet and knowing, seeking after knowledge already understood.
Thor looked back to her in his firm stride, deathly fire burning in his eyes of ice blue and sending a shiver down her spine.

“I have finished with his nonsense.” He turned his gaze ahead again, teeth grit and eyes twitching. “When we find them…I will kill him.”

Chapter Text

Loki woke with a violent cry tearing from the soft flesh of his throat. Without conscious thought, his limps flailed to fight off an invisible monster, a wicked beast from the past that was determined to make his world a living hell. He clawed at the air like a crazed animal, trapped in his mind and the darkness it provided from the past. Shadows of things that should never have happened and had been placed in the dormant reaches of his mind, sprung out with horrible lash, leaving its victim shaken and terrified.
Even as snapped up from his position on the cold marble, his sweat drenched clothing sticking to his skin, his mother was scrambling over with worry in her eyes.

“Loki, my son, are you well?”

The look he gave her was of a shivering creature, hunted and swallowed in a pit of terror. He had not told her of what the elves had done, even with her insistence. Her ignorance in the matter made her on edge and fearful for her suffering second child.

“I…” He covered his eye with a shaking hand, trying to control his breathing. “It was nothing…is nothing. Just a dream, nothing more, only a dream….”

His voice trailed off with a hitch of air, his other hand clenching in his lap. Instinctively, Frigga moved closer to her child and she went to take those quivering fingers into the warmth of her own. However, when contact was made, she did not expect the shrill shriek of panic that erupted from Loki.

“Don’t touch me!!”

He scrambled from her reach and onto his feet, hands clutching arms as if he was trying to keep warm. He looked upon his shocked mother, gulping down the bitter taste of bile that swelled on his tongue and took a deep breath. At the sight of her wide orbs and gaping mouth he quickly shuffled through his confused and terrified mind to apologize.
His fumbling words gave fact to his distress.

Oh, such a monster was he.

“I’m sorry.” He tried to collect himself and his stop his voice from its unsteady rattling with little success. “Could…could you not do that again….please. Just…not now.”

“Do what again, Loki?” Frigga’s voice was calm and her firm gaze remained ever on Loki. “What do you wish that I don’t do?”

He was crumbling from the inside and that was something that he didn’t know if he could handle again. Once had certainly been unsatisfying for himself and yet enough, but to go through it one more? The torment, the blood and the fear of uncertainty for what was expected of him, those where things he could not face, they were enemies that needed to remain in the past. But no, instead they crawled from their twisted nest and into his dreams, leaving the echoes of his own sorrowed weeping ringing through his eardrums and re-awakening emotions that had taken long to overcome.

He clenched his eyelids shut.

Don’t thinkdon’thinkdon’think….!

He felt a gentle touch on his face and flinched but thankfully did not screech and flee from the feeling as he had before.. Instead he found himself leaning into it, searching for warmth and a kind sensation in the sudden increase of gloom that had opened above his head. Now, drenched in its terrible rains, he only wanted his mother. He was like a desperate child, alone and mentally abused by those he loved. Only the sheer force of will kept him from moving forward to be enveloped in the sense of joy and hope she provided.

But alas for things that cannot be!

He remained still under her soft caress, waiting and unsure of what to do.

“My child, open your eye so that I might see them glisten as they always have.”

The command was carefully spoken, yet Loki could not find it within himself to disobey and soon raised his lids, relief flowing through his being at the sight of his mother. However, his green orbs no long shown with happiness and mischief, but were dimmed and Loki knew the proof would sting Asgard’s Queen to the core. How he had changed from a sweet boy to an empty man was surely the dominant question in her mind and Loki was not inclined to answer it.

However the smile she gave him left him confused and wondering. He saw the silver drops swelled in her eyes that were determined not to fall and he wondered why she suppressed them, for there was no one here to remind her of her status and her supposed regal posture.

“Come.” Her hand slid down from his shoulder to his hand, only to enrapture them in her fingers and coax him towards the wall. “Sit. I would speak with you while we are undisturbed and alone.”

Loki did as she bade of him, silent and solemnly sliding to the floor in a graceful yet shivering manner. Frigga settled herself beside him, their hands ever clasped and her smile never wavering in the slightest.

“Tell me…” The Queen patted his pale skin and called for his attention. “How were the books I sent you? You never told me if you were pleased or not. I acquired them for you from the Light elves. I thought you would enjoy them. Did you?”

Loki turned his emerald eyes on her, thoughts whirling through his head like an untamed whirlwind of anger, despair and envy. He knew not where to direct those emotions and therefore held them at bay, but he was not clear on what she wanted of him. To talk of books at such a time as this, surely she was not serious?

He cast his gaze away again, brow furrowed as he sorted through his brain.

“They were entertaining.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.”

The Queen’s look was slightly displeasing but she made no note of it in her tone. Instead she kept with the inquiring questions, curious to what he thought.

“You seemed to enjoy the works of the Light Elves whenever we ventured there together. I wanted you to have something to do and I thought to look towards your interests.”
“I read them all within the week.” The dark-haired prince stated blandly, closing his eyes and he waved his free hand in a swooshing motion as he continued. “And thus went my time-killer. I had started through them the third time when the brawl in the dungeons occurred.”

“I see.” Judging by the sound of her voice Loki could tell that her lips were curled up. “It seems I should have given more thought to how quickly you devour any reading marital like a starving panther.”

Loki shrugged slightly, noticing that his trembles had begun to slowly still and level out. The Queen knew her boy well and had seen it fit to distract him from the nightmares that wracked his mind. He was grateful to her for yet another thing and thought he knew it would not be the first time, he felt a little lighter in spirit.

“I will admit that when you have little to do but lounge alone in a cell, reading anything and everything could tend to be even more addictive than ever.” He sighed, looking over to his mother. “I was thrilled to receive your books and thanked the heavens for a distraction from the everlasting schedule I was forced to endure.”

A spark lit Frigga’s eyes and her features softened.

“I am pleased.” She looked down, rubbing her fingers over his knuckles slowly and releasing a small sigh. “I did not agree with your incarceration, especially not when we distanced ourselves from you further. You need aid, understanding, not locking away to wither in on yourself.”

Loki frowned at her words.

“You never needlessly kept yourself from me.” He tried not to sound comforting, but he would not have her blaming herself for his outcome. “Odin is guilty of this, but you did naught but accept me, even when I deserved less.”

Frigga raised her head, a watery smile over her lips and eyes filled with a deep, hidden pain that Loki knew not the cause for. His mother had never been anything but cheerful, joyous and ever ready to spend her time to patiently watch or assist her sons whenever they came tattling over. Of course, in their elder years neither Thor nor Loki waddled any longer to her, but had instead sought her out, one subtly and with a soft budge, the other loud and demanding.

She had shown him a purpose to live up to, given him dreams to accomplish when no other would and he could never begrudge her for slights because of this.

“I was selfish when it came to you, Loki.” A shamed blushed brushed the Queens cheeks as she spoke. “In your joys, your intelligence and your magic, you always sought me out and I wanted no other to hold the brightness that your eyes held for me. You needed the attentions of a father, and even knowing this I wished to hold you to myself alone.” She drew a shaking breath. “By doing so I hurt you and left you wounded beyond measure and I am so sorry.”

Loki made no comment of her words because he knew it already. Each and every time he had gone to her about Odin’s disapproval, Thor’s rejections and his complete lack of friends, she had clung to him and told him she loved him more dearly than any of them. He believed her and still did, for at least her honest pride was not a cruel blow to him.
He had known even as a boy and he had forgiven her and had even loved her for it to a certain degree. For it is far better to be over-cherished than not to be thought of at all.

Though despite his approving and dismissive thoughts, Frigga took his silence as a negative emotion towards her and tried instantly to sooth it over.

“Thor was such a wild child.” She commented suddenly, eyes filling with memories of past days and times during her younger years of motherhood. “He never contented himself in my embrace and ever looked to find adventure elsewhere. He never needed me for anything other than as a listening ear and a person to nurse his battle wounds.”

She reached up and gave Loki’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, yet even as she spoke the pangs of the fluid in his veins pecked at his mind and clawed for freedom.

“You were the magnet of my joy.”

Once again, Loki found himself unable to respond to his mother’s words. Even with the dull pain that he suppressed within the bosom of his heart at all the cruelties he had suffered, all the rejection and aching want to be accepted, he saw how much he had forgotten he had. With all the secrets that he kept encaged and hidden from sight, he found himself with the realization that the one he trusted most; he would always harm the greatest.

And that person he found he devoutly wished that it could be Odin or Thor…anyone but the person before him. Magnet, Frigga had said. If any person were the magnet it would be her, always returning to his side and never, ever giving into the screen placed before her eyes. She saw through him now, just as she had when he was a child, pranking with magics and showing them off to her.

And that was a dangerous thing.

“I am no Thor, seeking to conquer and destroy the foe for glory and honor’s sake.” Images flashed before his eyes with colors of purple, ruby and the chalk-screeching sound of screams. He closed his lids, fear tingling up his spine. “Even in the passages of my life the times I sought for such things were denied and mocked. I have seen things….felt sensations that reveal to me what I truly am. A monster, as Odin was reluctant to actualize with words, but not to imply.”

He drew his hand away from the Queens, not even being able to look upon her face. This was for them both…he had to do this, to say these words. He could let none get close to him again, for the shadow that followed him, when it came, would hurt any and all he held dear.

Frigga could not be among those numbers.

“Even with the love you passed down upon me, I was a lost cause.” The agony was returning, biting into the skin at the base of his neck and slithering to his brain like a hungry worm to dine. “Flipping the pages of a written book was my life, drawn out and carefully crafted to be of good use. I was to be recited, not read, not looked into, only dictated and expected to obey. I was never meant to question or try to make a place for myself. Ever did fate seem to work against me. So I will be as I am written out, a monster, a shadow….” The venom lashed out briefly and he saw a haunting picture, one that left raw terror over his feature and a single tear left his eye, trailing over his cheek to fall to their clasped hands. “…I am no more than a tool for others, never to be more. For all my cunning and wit, I am alone and should remain so.”

Silence followed his subtle rant, falling upon the cell with a frightening understanding of pure emotion. He had spoken truth, contrary to his namesake and known trait. In the past, it had been his lies that had been heeded the most and this unaltered words shunned. Many called him wicked for his prone ability to manipulate and twist, but what did he have to offer when that which they called for was claimed unworthy when given?

He could say no more, not even a trickle of wholesome words to spill from his mouth after his confession only moments ago. His inner soul was like a chaotic ocean, untamed and if one was caught in the foamy waves of the terrible thing, their ship would surely sink.

Yet Frigga cast off from shore without fear, launching into the stormy blue of his mind and breaking the silence between them. She rowed alone, but with a faith stronger than that of steel or iron, the maternal bond she shared with the younger son she hoped to yet save from himself.

And so she spoke, her voice quivering despite her strength, her heart laden with the woe of watching her child suffer.

“Midgard, why my son?” Her tone was pleading and completely exposed. “It was Asgard that burnt you, even when you cried out against the flame and begged to be heard. Why reap bleeding to a realm with no guilt towards you, a world primitive to our own?”

Loki closed his emerald orbs, taking his hand from her gentle grasp and turning his face away, fighting the pangs of pain that attacked him and the memories that were following dutifully after with a cruel vengeance.

“Midgard is dear to Thor…perhaps I meant to hurt him by smiting his beloved’s home.”

The Queen hummed knowingly, smoothing out the wrinkles and folds over her skirts as she responded.

“With an army of nearly idiotic minds and lacking prowess? You are not one to lead vast numbers to death, but rather to preserve life through more intriguing means.” The disgraced prince clenched his jaw shut, going stiff from more than just the venom. “The Chitauri are beneath you, tools you would not use when you silver tongue could gain nearly any prize on its own.”

Loki snarled, snapping a vicious gaze towards his mother. She had hit far too close towards home for him to remain comforted by and that made him fear. She could not know of him what he sought to kept concealed, never for a lifetime and a thousand years.

“Perhaps I cared little for the death of such worthless creatures, insects of the universe that needed wiping away.” His words were whipped out, too quick to be taken as whole.
Frigga only shook her head at his answer, reaching up once again to lay a smooth palm over his cheek and to force their eyes to meet.

“Oh, my little trickster, you can fool many but you cannot hide from me.” He tore himself from her, terror betraying him in his features, etched clear as day. “Always you felt compassion for those that no other would. You begged to spare the life of a child goblin, do you not recall? You were little more than a boy yourself, yet you saw innocence in that babe, laying amongst the slaughtered who dare challenge the might of Aagard. You cared for all life, ugly or wretched, it mattered not.”

“Perhaps I abandoned those ideals like my own sire did unto me in the frost of Jotunheim!” Loki spit out the raging fires within. “Besides, Odin had the baby killed ‘mercifully’ anyway. My word once again was unheard.”

His mother sighed and it was a weary sound to his ears. It was true. Even after the heat of battle, the blood of a warrior still pumps furiously through his body with rage. The goblins had been punished for the wrongs they had caused. They had only been a tribe, snatching gold and fine gems from the nobles of random worlds and crafting their own works with the stolen goods. The Elves of the light were not so bothered by it, the elven race being a kind for more poetic things than wealth. They mourned the loss of their jewels though, being the vain creatures they are.

Nothing was taken from the dwarves besides their custom tools, yet that caused a uproar as if it had been a sacrilege of the greatest kind. It was they who had come to Odin, demanding that he take care of the problem as protector of The Nine. The Allfather had refused, yet Thor had cried out in front of all that to do nothing would be cowardice.
So Odin yielded, taking his elder son to battle and his youngest son to watch and learn.

But the lesson Loki learned that day was not of mercy or compassion for a lower race. As he trudged through the aftermath of the bloodied fields, he saw no glory in the deed of murder, no honors to be sung won by the taking of another life. No, instead he found misery and dared to have pity on a helpless infant and Odin had had it killed. It had been swift, yes, but it was a horrible thing to behold.

That day, Odin taught his foster son that pity and mercy were not valued and that if he ever wished to be a warrior, he would never have compassion again.

“Perhaps?” The Queen shook her head. “You saw good where others saw only image. You saw soul and that is what defines us. We all wish to be beautiful, but we forget that we all are, to a degree, good, true and beautiful.” A smile curved her lips upwards. “Jotun, Elves, Men, Asgardian, Goblin, Dwarf….we all have the potential to be good, we just need to form a plan in making it into act.”

A shudder ran through Loki’s frame and he knew that the venom was once again sinking its fangs into his mind, seeping into the horrors he had locked away. Frigga’s words were left hanging in his ears, heard, but not understood. He was numb and his memory was turning in on itself, leaving him confused and weak. He would feel it again, the fear that left him cold and his mouth dried like a deserted man in the hot sun. He would be forced to endure it, the things past that haunted like a faithful ghost, tied to him by events of history.

His history.

A flicker to his side drew his fogging attention to Frigga, who still knelt by with devotion. He looked up, to meet the soft gaze that would no doubt be filled with sorrow for him, pity for his collapse of self. His whole being was once more being enveloped in the cruel embrace of pain and no longer did their surrounding seem to be that of their elven prison.

Frigga was speaking again, her lips moving slowly and he wished he would make out the words. He wanted to hear her voice in his world, easing the agony meant to come. He desired for her to hold him and nothing more.

Even as his mind created a new scene, he craved nothing more than his mother.

“Attached are we? You gaze with such stuffed love, begging to be taken notice of.” A laugh resounded through Loki’s skull and he went cold to the bone. “I do not have to remind you of my warnings do I?”

Widened emerald orbs looked up, his entire body trembling with the echo of the hideous voice, that demon that mocked his existence with his smile, an expression that promised torment and left his blood stilled in his veins.

He was here…standing behind his mother with a blade of gleaming gold, a blue stone glowing brightly on its hilt. All breath left Loki and he went into a state of petrifying shock, unable to move or speak. He could only stare on, his stomach an empty pit of pure terror.

Purple eyes flashed and looked upon the prey with a wicked gleam.

“Hello Loki.”

Chapter Text

Thor stood in full armor beside his King and father, watching keenly as the last of the elves were beheaded in the silence of the courtyard. The scene was not put on display before the public, as Odin did not wish for riots and angered civilians to storm the process with raging desire for blood. Only the King's counselors and a few of the high-ranking nobles stood present as each elf was forced to knees and bent against the stone block in a manner that left the neck exposed and prostrate to the blade of the axe. One by one they were killed, their ruby blood staining the ground as their bodies were carelessly tossed aside. Each death left the executioners tunic more soaked in the deep color of red life, but his aim never wavered.

It was a gruesome thing to behold, even for the eyes of a warrior prince, much accustomed to the ways of justice and the battlefield's merciless display. But Thor knew his place and understood the meaning of being cold when it came to death. If ever he was to be respected, he would have to order such things like this, just as his father did before him.

Impassive was to be his expression at the struggles of the condemned, his ears barricaded the desperate tones of their pleading and his voice was to be like thunder, unquestioned and firm in such undesirable matters. He was a leader, and as such he had to take on the dirty chore of taking a life when needed and sparing one when mercy was an ability to give. Thor knew that in the future, he too would have to order mass executions if needed and he knew that he would not be permitted to hesitate in the action.

However, when King he became, he would ban the practice of such a bloody death for his prisoners. For even he could admit that the thought of being decapitated was not pleasant thought, not a desirable way to die.

Watching as each head was separated from the quivering victim's body, Thor was steadily growing sickened behind his mask of indifference. His father wished to display the ruthless measures he would take to ensure the safety of his realm by this gushing picture of crimson, but Thor could not help bet imagine the feel of the a sharpened blade dividing his neck in two. It made him feel inwardly queasy and he found himself swallowing deeply as another head rolled.

Before the executions had begun, Thor had stomped challengingly into the throne room, his voice demanding an explanation for his father's decision in ending the lives of their captive elves. He had expected him to go on about duty and unravel the meaning of his Princely ways, but instead he had been presented a plan. A plan that made Thor feel more that a bit ashamed for doubting the love his father held for his mother. Odin would never abandon his queen and soft companion in life, the one who knew him best. Sif had been wrong and Thor had never been more pleased for it.

Even as he stood watching the horrible scene unfold before him, Thor knew that Jane was readying with the Warriors Three to leave Asgard by order of the Allfather. After the last elf was to fall, the Crown Prince was to depart with them and go to the very bowels of the enemy force. To the home of the Dark Elves he was to venture with little aid while Malekith's forces were flushed with anger towards the slaughter of their fellows. While Malekith himself would only hold their deaths as honorable and dutiful, his elves would feel the rage and therefore be vulnerable with emotions. Elves were a hard race to crack open and see the light, but once touched with any sentiment, especially at the death of kin, they burst into fits of terrible miscalculation for their own feelings.

Those who fail to display emotion will be lost in its vengeful torrents at a challenging time and will be lost at what direction to take. Odin Borson was no fool to how the mind worked and Thor trusted him to foresee the reaction these deaths would take.

The last elf was being dragged out, fighting and bucking against the two guards that held his bound arms on either side. Like the many who had gone before him he was dressed in dark colors, his tainted armor having been stripped from his form upon capture. But even lacking his protective metals, one could tell he was merely a common soldier, one not unlike the ones Malekith sacrificed so many years ago for his own escape and the pursuit of his plans. Pale skin was flushed with sweat and his dark hair gathered about his shoulders, effectively hiding the points of his ears.

At the sight of his comrade's piled bodies and the red, almost black blood that stained the ground, his form clenched up and his eyes widened with something more then but also akin to fear. His struggling increased and Thor found himself looking away as the young elf was forced to his knees before the stone. Instead, and to keep up appearances, Thor looked to his father's face as the executioner prepared his blade and the captive's head was brutally forced against bloodstained rock, his eyes shut with the foreboding understanding that he was to die.

Odin's expression was like that of steel, unmoving and straightforward. One by one, oldest to youngest the elves had met their ends and now, even understanding why it had to be done, Thor found himself wondering if there was no mercy to be had. Looking back to the elf he felt a strange sensation take hold of him as the helpless creature fought futilely against his fate. With the blade to his throat and the youthful face, the golden Prince felt himself going back to the image of a young, innocent Loki, lost and terrified as he stood amidst cruel advisories. The form of the elf was shaking and suddenly Thor found it all so very cold-hearted. He suddenly found his mouth opening as the axe was raised, his voice echoing through the courtyard in stark command.

"Executioner, hold your blade!"

Startled from the proceedings, the bloodied weapon was halted through midswing, it's sharp edge scraping violently against the dark stone of the yard. Everyone, including the condemned victim, looked to the Prince for his outburst as he turned swiftly towards his father. With an odd speed he knelt on one knee before his King, his words coming out evenly and without a hesitant note.

"I ask you Allfather, my King and sire, to spare the life of this last captive in my own name."

Odin raised a brow at his son's impulsive actions, the grip on his spear tightening.

"For what reason do you seek this one's life, Thor, when you have gazed upon the deaths of those before him without need to intervene?"

"Will not the lives of the others serve enough for our purpose?" Thor's voice was low, his eyes cast upon the ground at his father's feet. A clenched hand over his heart was gripped so tight that the skin had gone white. "This one is young, littler more then a child and probably led by those who he held as elders. He may not be drowned with the hate of his forefathers."

Thor knew not why it was so important to him that this single life be saved, but it was and he seemed incapable of being able to stand aside while he was decapitated. He understood that after Loki's treachery he wished only to be hard with his judgments and without yielding space, but the look that creature had was one that the old Loki had held many times in childhood. At night, when monsters lurked into the minds of children, the disgraced younger prince had sought out his brother with that face, the longing for someone to battle off his fears. Thor knew the weakness that his memory cast on him, the blinding of his decisions. It was that link that broke and allowed Loki to live and later take his mother.

A thing he swore never to be weakened by again.

The prince shook his head, knowing that his actions and emotions were hardly aligned. On moment he cared not for the lives of these prisoners and now he sought to preserve one of them for no other purpose then 'because'. Truly, he was lost within the maze of his mind.

"You are certain you desire his life to come under your word?" Odin questioned, his eye gleaming in the light of the afternoon sun. "Bloodthirsty he may not be, but even in the youngest elf there is a hatred from our kind that longs to blossom and grow."

Before him, Thor bowed his head, internally fighting with his soul that he simply could not do this, could not put his wishes on display.

Loki was gone now and he had vowed to take his life, no elf-child that resembled his little sibling's past self could stop the elder prince from doing just that. However, despite all his harsh foundations and intentions towards what was to come, Thor knew that he would always cling to the memory of the past in the secret of his shattered heart.

His sudden action would only nurse the hurt his being felt.

"Aye, my King, I ask for this life." The strong words escaped his lips, even when he sought to pull them back. "The young can be taught anew. I will find use for him."

Odin was silent for a moment, searching the features of his eldest and now only worthy child with no expression cracking through his planted façade.

"To allow him to live would show weakness, Thor, you understand this?" The king's voice was low, so that only his son might hear his words. "The life of your Mother may very well depend on the death of this prisoner."

Thor inhaled deeply, his thoughts and emotions racing in a contradicting whirl within his mind. Memories went back, taking ahold of his will and making him rethink. Boldly, he met his Father's gaze with the even and undaunted stare of a prince.

"No Father, sparing one life will not destroy our plans." He waved a hand towards the shivering captive whose neck was now soaked in the lifeblood of his companions. "Mother would stand against killing something that there is still hope for. I have lost Loki to corruption and perhaps Mother may not survive this situation." The golden prince bowed his head, his eyes clenched shut as he tried to control the strange feeling that rolled over him in waves. "If I am to lose both my brother and my mother so soon, I would prefer to have the satisfaction of living up to her ways and teachings. I cannot consider this weakness, but rather an honorable respect to the one who loved and bore me. Spare the elf and let us continue."

Odin's eye peirced into his son's bowed head, his mouth remaining in the same expressionless line. It almost looked as though the mighty warrior had not heard his heir's words, that they were simply breath in the wind, but he had. Thor knew he had heard him and now was analyzing how to respond.

"Very well."

A quick signal from the hand of the Allfather allowed the bound elf to be pulled from the block, his shirt darkened by blood and sweat. The young creature shivered as he was dragged before the King and his son, fear still evident on his face. He was once again forced to his knees at their feet, the tremors that ran through him so severe that Thor could see them rocking the elf terribly. The being had been brought out expecting death, only to be spared on the confused feeling of the golden-haired prince before him. Shock was only to be expected.

"Elf, only under the word of my son have you been granted your life. From this moment on you will serve him and understand that displeasing him would once again invoke the wrath that you have been spared this day." Raising Gungnir, Odin let the spear strike the ground in final proclamation, causing the captive to flinch. "You will be held bound within the dungeon until use can be made of you. Take him."

Without even a chance to speak the prisoner was hauled back up and pulled from the royal pair. Thor watched as he was yanked away for only a moment before turning back to his King and father. Odin was already turning from the bloody execution ground, his gait slow and like that of a weary old man. Thor followed him dutifully from the yard, coming to walk beside him as was fit for his rank.

"And now, Father?" He questioned.

"Now?" Odin repeated before stopping to look upon his only remaining child. "Now you must retrieve your mother with the aid of Jane and the Warriors Three. Malekith will not be overly concerned for those we have executed. However, though his elves be loyal, they will have felt the bond break and will be outraged, despite his intentions. They seek our blood."

"How will this aid us?"

"They will find you without difficulty once you arrive due to their alertness. When Malekith opens the Aether from within the mortal, you will destroy it with the aid of Mjölnir."

Thor's face contorted in a befuddled twist.

"But Father, this rage will only inflame the bloodlust within the elves further. I fail to see how the death of these elves has made our task more flexible. It will stop me from seeking Mother out for they will be craving my death."

Odin nodded his head in a dignified manner, agreeing with his son's observation of the plan. No doubt he had considered that point.

"You will not be the one to find your Mother due to your immediate need in battling Malekith. Had I the prowess and skill of my youth still I would go myself." He looked to his son with old eyes, weighed by thousands of years. "However, since I cannot I will be sending Heimdall and Sif to seek out your Mother's position. The elves may hide from my watchman's eyes but his senses are sharp to unnatural disturbances. You will prove a distraction for the elves as they do their own task."

Thor froze, his jaw tightening as he clenched his teeth together. The plan had it's risks but it was sound. Of course, the situation itself had many damning factors for all those involved. Death, injury, capture and failure plagued the mind of Thor as horrible outcomes that may prove to be possible. But there was one person that stuck out in the middle of the whole thing, one major character playing a important role that was currently unknown to Asgard.

"And what of Loki, my Father?" Thor kept his tone cold and unyielding when he spoke of his once-brother, his mind gushing with despising thoughts. "I have swore to see to his end for the pain and horror he has caused. But I do not wish to complete the task after returning him to Asgard. I would hope spare Mother the spectacle."

Odin also went stiff at the mention of his stolen relic, irritation and anger flooding beneath his kingly facade with a vengeance. It was clear that he regretted Loki for so, so many reasons.

"Do with him as you see fit. I am far beyond granting that disgraceful worm any compassion. I have no desire to see him again." He let out a rough sigh before drawing himself to full height. "Ready yourself to depart."

Without another word on the matter, the Allfather strode away from his son, his wrinkled hand holding Gunier in a fierce grip. Thor made no move to try and stop him in order to continue the conversation.

Chapter Text

As a youth, Loki had been subjected to various night horrors after retiring for the day. More often then not he had awoken with screams and sobs, unable to recall those things that frightened him and incapable of returning to sleep. When he was still considered too young to be separated from his mother, Frigga would come into the nursery that was connected to her own chambers when his distress awoke her. As the evening would progress she would distract him with a story, cradling him in her lap and hugging him to her breast with the protective aroma of roses swirling about the pair. When a nightmare would prove to be more horrible then usual, she would commence in teaching him little magic tricks. Illusions were his joy and he still remembered the first projection he had ever created.

A golden butterfly for his mother, matching her tresses and sparkling like sunlight on water. He still recalled her stunning smile at his fleeting gift, treasuring it within her heart. In that moment he forgot his loneliness, his incapability to prove himself to his father and was left with the warmth of the maternal bond he ever shared with Frigga. He had been content.

Of course, the illusion had faded quickly and it had taken much time and practice to make himself able to control his abilities and maintain the image. But as he grew he was taken from the comfort of his mother and placed within his own chambers, starting his life of independent solitude and silenced longing. He had been forced to accept it because of society, whether he wished it or not. Not longer did he and his mother make magic when the stars had twinkled in the twilight evenings.

Now, his heart gone cold with terror and his blood freezing within his veins, he found himself only wishing for the sight before his eyes to be one of his meager creations from his childhood, a wisp of magic that would surely flee.

But the detail, the utter and blatant truth of what had just occurred before him was enough for him to rationalize and know that his fears no longer held such a primitive nature. Now he was left with nothing but his trembling heart, clinging to his mother who he now could no longer see.

Before his peers and combatants Loki would never admit it, but his blood ran cold at the mere thought of perpetual blackness. The Void had sucked him within in with hungry claws and invisible but wicked intent when he fell from Thor upon the bridge. There had been no life, no voices, nothing that he could touch and confirm to be real. There had been magical swirls of color at times as he passed a world by, but when they drifted out of sight, he was left to the pitch darkness of space. The beauty was lost to him in the desire to feel again, the burning ache to

And he had learned to fear it through it's emptiness.

Was he truly worth so little in existence that he had deserved that bitter nothingness? As a young child he had been viciously subjected to cruel mockery by those he called-or devoutly hoped to call-friends. No matter how desperately hard he tried to make himself seem more likable to his peers, he was met with laughter at his efforts and was sneered at for the attempt. Odin did little to prevent the treatment he received and soon Loki stopped asking for assistance. As an innocent child, he had simply thought it his own failure to be normal and he had simply applied himself to stop crying and try harder.

But when Loki became old enough to understand the beautiful role of man and woman and perhaps try to find a girl for himself, he found himself once again met by scorn. By then he had passed his early teenage years and was nearly immune to the taunting of his fellows and Thor's companions, since such was the way of youth. But when the first maid that caught his eye insulted him cruelly and without hesitation of his rank, he knew something was truly, truly not right. When no one noticed him leave in silent tears from the feast, when no one came after him to see if he was well, when no one even noticed his absence, Loki knew that there had to be something about him that was not quite correct.

Even Frigga had not looked into his disappearance.

And so Loki had stuck to the shadows, knowing himself to be unwelcome and even unwanted in the presence of others. He had always been in the dark then. From childhood to the blankness of his eyes now as he resided in this elven cell, he had never had any light, any legacy that he could call his own.

Thanos had been the monster lurking in the corner of his blackened existence, snatching him up and tormenting him with pain and his insecurities, his utter starvation for acceptance that had been denied him for so long, a wish that would never be granted because of what he was.

Now he was lost in the dark, clinging to the only person he left to love him despite everything. He made no move as she gently moved her dainty fingers through his hair, trying to sooth him after the past few hours of terror-filled hallucinations of manipulated memories. His pale cheeks were covered in crusted salt from the tears that had run free in his vivid nightmare and his body lay in shock from the confused link between body and brain. What he thought he was suffering was not there, yet he could not help as react as if it had, for it seemed true to him. Now his nervous system lay raw and his eyes seemed to have quite suddenly decided to shut down. But right now he could not bring himself to worry over it and he wanted nothing more then to sleep.

To have a dreamless slumber for once...if only once...he would give anything...

"Loki?"

His battered body jumped at the sudden voice, his fingers clenching tightly around the cloth of his mother's clothing like a newborn, turning his sightless eyes towards the sound.

The scent of roses tumbled down over his face and the fallen prince inhaled the smell quickly, relishing in the proof that his mother was still present.

"Are you alright, my child?" He flinched lightly as two soft fingers brushed over his cheek in a gentle manner, as if he was made of glass and she did not wish to break him.

Loki made no response, merely letting out a contented sigh and leaning into her touch. He would have purred had he been a little black kitten, for his bones felt delicate enough for him to be so. An abused kitten, but a kitten nonetheless.

"Loki?" Frigga questioned again, her voice laden with aching worry. "My son, please say something, are you well?"

The dark-haired disgrace smiled, reaching up blindly to take her hand into his own and reassure her that he was well enough. She had witnessed him lose himself in the insanity of the liquefied spell, she had seen him curl in on himself and cry out with misery that no on should ever experience and now she needed to see him alright, or at least functioning.

"Mother." He stated simply, not even bothering to try to convince her that she was otherwise.

Not that it mattered now. She knew what had been done to him and she understood his reluctance to allow her near his heart. He could no longer hide from her understanding and decided that he did not care to, relishing in her company and motherly affection with a greedy hunger. What he had desperately tried to hide was discovered and his efforts had been made futile.

"Oh my child, my baby..." The Queen's voice trailed off and cracked, a sob catching her breath in her throat. Loki felt something warm splash onto his hand. She was weeping for him. "Why did you not tell me of Thanos' hold? I could have done something to aid you in your suffering. Your father-"

"Had already decided upon me, sweet Mother." Loki spoke quietly, but what he knew to be the truth. "He would have me condemned to a prison of much more strict precautions even now if I were to return. He cares not for my words, only my ensnarement. I am no longer his son and he is no longer my father. This is his wish."

Frigga instantly protested, her voice firm against his own.

"He did not know of your suffering Loki. He did not know of what Thanos had done. For the past four hours I have watched you writhe upon the ground in false agony awakened from your memories as I could do nothing but watch in horror. He must accept my word based on what I have seen."

"And what of the crimes I committed before my fall, Mother?" Loki sighed tiredly, closing his sightless eyes in weariness. "I was under no influence or threat of punishment then, I am a traitor..."

"You are no such thing! The things you did were well within your right as King!"

Loki raised a inquisitive brow, fondly enjoying her tone of violent disagreement.

"I let Jotuns into the vault. Such an act is that of treason. If for no other crime, Odin will see me locked away for betraying him so." The blind prisoner smiled bitterly at the thought of his adoptive father. "Well, until he can use me in some fashion to ensure peace with the Jotuns." He paused, thinking. "Or perhaps he simply plans to sell me off. I would be quite a 'useful' magician when in bondage."

Frigga's grip on her youngest son tightened about him, instinctively pulling him closer to her bosom as if to protect him from further harm since he was already hurting so much now. Asgard had failed him once and she would die before she let that happen once more.

"I will never permit such deeds to become act, Loki." Her voice was unshaken and determined, just a the Queen of Asgard's should be. "If Odin seeks to rip my son from me once more he will find himself short of a wife as well."

For a moment the disgraced prince remained silent, unable to speak against his Mother's fervent tone and bared heart. He loved her too much to inform her that it did not matter what she said to the Allfather, no action she could take would ever make Loki a son to him again. After so many long years of trying to please his father, the dark magician had been cast away and no longer felt the overwhelming desire to please that man. He wanted nothing from him, not even the name that held him tied to his Mother.

He did not wish to be an Odinson and that would mean losing the only person in existence who he truly never desired to be without.

Loki was faced with a choice. Even if he managed to escape with Frigga by his side he would be forced to decide between her and his very own freedom, knowing that Odin would never receive him into his home as one of his own again. To remain the outcast son of a King who cared nothing for him and keep Frigga close, or to flee, avoiding bounty hunters and those who would use him for their own gain without any person to turn to when his heart bled for company and affection.

Gently pushing away from the Queen and straining himself into a sitting position, Loki blinked through blind eyes, his body trembling from the exhausting experience he had relieved merely an hour ago. He heaved a sigh and brought his hand up to wave before his dulled emerald orbs with the hope of catching some movement, his mother steadying his quaking form with gentle hands. No light refraction occurred and his retina sent no confirmation of what he knew to be there to his brain to be visualized.

Blind. Completely blind.

What had that manipulated flashback cost him?

Thanos bending over him as he squirmed helplessly on the grimy floor of his prison, screams ripping from his throat as the titan tore viciously through his mind. His heartbeat thrummed loudly in his ears, mixed with the croaking laughter of the Chitauri as they gathered about to watch the master play with the fallen prince...the frost giant runt with no hope of escape...a weak monster...

"Mother." Loki whispered, his thoughts running frantically about in his head. He groped about for her hand, clutching it desperately when she place it in his own with care. "Mother, what am I?"

My child...the Tesseract whispered promise of a parent's care and the solitude from the titan's cruel claws. His body was no longer his to control, but he was hidden away from the pain that ever followed in his days of endless capture. He fled, too weary to fight, the task impossible for any under such strain...and the Tesseract...shrouded him in a soft blue light, imprisoning him with the tender movements of a mother...it had called him child...mimicked Frigga...

"You are Loki." Came the reassuring reply, no hesitation gripping it's fingers into the words. "You are both of Asgard and Jotunheim, of fire and ice and you are my baby. Never think less then this. Your sight will return in time, Loki. Sleep for now. I will be here."

Loki's grip on her hand tightened, his breathing speeding up as he felt his body's weak state betraying him, still in shock. Pain would be coming soon, this he knew from what Malekith had said. And then...

"I'm dying." He choked the words out with a mixture of a soft sob and a laugh, his eyes shifting to where he knew his mother to be. "So many times I begged for death to take me, so many times..."

Growing up, when he found no comfort given by any person, Loki had wondered that if he were to die, would any miss him? As he had floated meaninglessly in the void Loki had wished for anything to happen, hoping death would take him from his useless existence. With Thanos begging to die had been a daily routine, both forced and completely sincere. His being locked within the Tessaract's power had been cased safely away, but he had not been content. Beneath Asgard he had languished in his cell, hated and wondering if Odin would suddenly change his mind and sentence him to death. It would have brought him relief then...

But now, tucked near his Mother he found himself suddenly frightened by the idea of dying with her so close, of leaving her behind. He was used to pain, to the agony that would doubtlessly come, but this would be a cruel way to leave this world, with Frigga in vigil. He had just gotten her and now she knew the truth...to suddenly die...

"I-I can't...Mother!" Loki panicked, his blind eyes stinging. "Escape! You have to get out! Y-You can't be here..."

"Loki, I'm not going anywhere." The Queen stated kindly, but with a stern tone as she pulled her son into an embrace. He buried his face in her shoulder, breath hitching and skin hot. "I just got you back and I will not lose you again, you hear?"

The worn figure wound his arms about his Mother, inhaling the breeze of flowers and brushing his hand over the strands of hair that fell down her back. He lifted his lips to her shoulder, looking blankly into the darkness and just holding on as if she would disappear forever. She returned the gesture with the same amount of fervency and desperation that he gave, her heart probably breaking at his sudden collapse of sanity and the fear that he would perish.

Tears were shed between them, one sobbing for who he was and the other weeping for all he could have been. This was not the Loki who spit insults and kept others away with snarls and hate just so he could protect them. This was the Loki who yearned to be accepted and wanted. His shields had fallen during his traumatic reliving of memories. His wit was now fear, he cunning now a confused heap, his proud determination was now nothing but uncertainty and insecurity.

He fell into a troubled slumber within the sorrowing Queen's arms and she cradled herself over him, sure to keep this precious vulnerability to herself, knowing that Malekith would be arriving again for her child. She would keep safe Loki's dignity to the foe and when the time came for him to face all that he feared...

She would watch him tear his enemies to shreds with the bitter justice they so deserved for tormenting her baby.

Chapter Text

When Loki once again opened his eyes, he found that some of his vision had finally returned, but where clear images should be, he only saw blurred shapes that were meaningless to his brain in translation. Still, He could sense his Mother's presence without a doubt, but she was clearly not alone judging by the second voice he heard rumbling through his beating and terribly aching skull. He let out a soft groan, bringing up a hand to message his forehead against the wicked pain. It felt as though Thor's own hammer had been brutally smashed to his temple in a series of cruel blows.

He smirked at the thought bitterly, not putting the idea past Thor's capabilities.

"The Liesmith rises at the opportune time. He is as diligent as I was lead to believe."

Malekith's voice echoed through their prison with a resounding thrum, cruelly battering on Loki's heightened senses. The agony of hypersensitivity was returning once again, leaving him more and more weakened. Even as he struggled up from where he lay, he could not repress the sudden shock at the shooting fire in his limbs. Nevertheless, he forced himself to rise from the ground, from the level that so many thought he belonged when brought before them. He would face his captor, unafraid and the best of his ability.

As he clamored to his feet, harsh waves of pringling nerves attacking him with a consistent urge, Loki could feel the elf's cold eyes upon him, the scrutiny of the gaze piercing his shields. He raised his head and leveled his own orbs to Malekith, yet his body quivered with the strain of remaining silent to his pain.

Frigga returned to his side at once, a rush of air allowing Loki to be certain of the fact. With a bit of her aid he was able to hold his balance as he confronted the elf, knowing that if he were to fall as result of his feverish limbs he would be humiliated and though he had dealt with such a dilemma before, he did not savor the idea of another repeat.

"What do you want here, dark spawn. My mother will not reveal to you the information you want despite watching me suffer and you have all but named me dead, what more could you want?"

Loki kept his facade of fearlessness, though he could feel Frigga's finger sink into his arm with warning, no doubt concerned for his wellbeing. He gave her no attention, keeping his nearly sightless eyes upon where he knew his adversary stood.

"Odin returns the Aether home once more, in the company of your brother. They most likely believe that it's destruction lies within the world it thrived and knew to be it's own." Malekith's face made no change, but one could easily see the gleam that took hold of his eyes. Black and like ice, carrying a promise of destruction and darkness even as he gazed on his prisoners. "We know the location of the Aether and therefore have no need of that which your mother held from us. You are of no use."

There was the distinct slide of a knife leaving it's sheath followed by the clanking of well-molded armor as Loki watched a blur appear from behind his captor. With a instinctive growl of protection, the shamed prince forced Asgard's Queen behind him, the agony muted and unsteadiness forgotten in his burst of adrenalin.

Unseen by Loki, Malekith's brow went up slightly as he watched the not-child of Odin move to shield his mother with his own body.

"You are in no position to combat us, Liesmith." The taunt was all but sneered by the warrior who had stepped from behind the leading elf, though his face remained surprisingly natural. "You are weary from sights that are not present, sickly in the flesh and pathetically blinded by your incapability to resist your own magic as it eats away." He didn't laugh but his voice did rise to a higher level that may have been amusement. "You are helpless before us."

Loki stood unmoved by the crude words, flashing a wicked grin of his own to his fuzzy counterpart. He was not unused to this particular type of situation, having endured it many times in his life. Absorbing the cruel utterings of others only to spit them back with a vicious bite of his own creation was like a second nature. People were curious as to how he could manipulate

"Am I?" The dark-haired prince let the words slide slickly from his tongue without even a tremor in his tone. "I do not appear to be the one making a speech about how weak my potential opponent is. Are you trying to make your prisoner seem more like the victim to reassure yourself? Do I cast such violent fear into your scorched heart, beast?"

"Loki!" Frigga hissed into the ear of her son, trying to deter any further argument.

But of course, the warning went unheard and cast away in Loki's determination to protect and defend the last of what he could truly call his own.

No one would bring harm to his mother. Be it pain inflicted upon him or complete degradation, Asgard's matriarch would not shed a drop of crimson life while he breathed.

The elf visibly fumed and even Loki could determine the rage he had lit by the blurred movement of the warrior's body language. A sense of bitter satisfaction crept into his mind as he heard Malekith say something to the other in his birth tongue, obviously telling the creature to stay his hand and mouth if one could deduce anything from the tone.

Minions were entertaining to watch as they struggled between orders and the flooding emotions that always rang in a silent battle with a insulting captive and themselves.

Emerald eyes glazed with a light layer of smugness as Malekith once again directed his attention on the pair before him.

"You have misinterpreted my kin's intentions when he advanced." He stepped forward, his straightened stature like the famed and dangerous general he stood to be, towering over his prey to feed. "Your brother brings the Aether in order to see it destroyed. I cannot see this done. Your Mother will ensure his cooperation when confronted."

Loki's blood ran froze colder then the lowest temperature achieved on the planet of his conception and birth. He made no movement, only digesting the spoken words in his mind and feeling the gentle touch of his maternal figure upon his back, worried for his wellbeing. His brain dissected the issue, blatantly laying the results before his mind's eye without a complex need to explain.

Frigga. Thor. Leverage.

Anger burnt the ice and it began to melt as his dysfunctional orbs glowed resistance and plain denial at what he knew would come to pass. This was a scenario he would not accept, not now, not ever.

No.

An animal snarl left his throat, low and daring.

"You will not lay a finger on her, creature. If you even come close to her being I will tear you to shreds even if it results in my own death."

Malekith lifted his chin, observing that challenge before him with little to no concern.

"The effects of your condition are beginning to play upon your own body once again, young jotun. Even you cannot remain in conflict with the results." His head tilted to the side. "In any moment you will collapse once more, left incapacitated and unable to halt us."

Loki's body was indeed wrecked in unceasing bursts of brutal sensations even as the elf spoke and the cruel effect were coming closer and closer to being unbearable by him. Even in the state of possessive determination for his mother he could feel the inner force driving him towards the point of falling in a whimpering heap of hypersensitive nerves.

Stating the simple fact of what was to come for him to endure was a twisted move to take the silvertongue's mind off the present as he felt the exact words manifesting in his own flesh. Malekith was aware of his helplessness despite his striving to show bravery in the face of lost hope. While not taking an advantage of physical means, he was torturing the prince with the knowledge that he could no sooner protect himself then he could the person he loved dearest.

But that hardly meant that he would not even try.

"Take me instead." The sentence slipped out past his lips, catching him in a slightly vulnerable position. "She is not specifically needed to be the leverage you need. Take me, for as you said, I can hardly fight you."

The nameless warrior snorted in a blunt and arrogant manner at the hidden plea.

"Kurse informed us of your status in Asgard. You hold no sway over Thor, considering the fact that he is one of the owners of the very place you were imprisoned. You are a mere and convicted criminal, doomed for the axe should you prove uneasy to handle."

Refusing to be refuted, Loki swat the words away in his head, blurry eyes staring into the void of blended colors before.

"I can speak with him, convince him to hand over the Aether without trouble. I have manipulated him before, let me do so again!"

"Loki, calm yourself." Frigga's hand fell to rest tenderly on her frenzied son's shoulders, her voice coaxing and soft in stark contrast to the harsh conversation. "I will go with them, you are not well."

"Indeed." Malekith said, tilting his chin up. "Not well and in a situation that will not prove to be in your favor. Struggling is futile against what is written."

Sweat began to dampen Loki's dark brow, and his clenched hands shook with the effort to remain upright, his soul hating when the elf implied. Captured or free, the magic working within him would leave him ill and as easy to harm as a newborn kitten. There was really no escape for himself when it came down to it. There was no way for him to avoid that which was sure to happen with or without his consent. Written or not, the fates had never been kind to Loki, cursing his existence with trials and rejection from his birth.

And try as he might, his fighting always proved useless.

He glared molten emerald daggers at the elf, raw hatred oozing from his eyes. He was well aware of the fact that Malekith did not plan on his captives' survival. As he had said himself, his kin were not a kind to take prisoners and hold them longer then strictly necessary. This meant that both Frigga and Loki were marked for death, unless Thor was able to force a word of honor from their captor for their lives. But Thor would not spare his once-brother from the wrath of the elves, though bargain for his mother he might.

Asgard's Queen had more guarantee then surviving capture and being used as leverage then her disgraced and unwanted son. Thor would not allow her to wallow in a cell, imprisoned by the dark elves of old. With Loki, it mattered little if he was caged in Asgard or in a dead race's hands. Either way freedom was not something for him to be granted and though he craved it dearly he, no doubt like Thor, was not about to let Frigga remain in such care.

And it was for those reasons and those reasons only that Loki found himself gliding towards what he couldn't have avoided anyway.

Thor would see his Mother and Aether or no Aether he would rescue her from his kidnappers and then….and then maybe the Queen would commission her son to ensure Loki's release as well. He would be returned to the dungeons, but no longer left in the presence of those who would cut his throat.

Letting his tensed and aching shoulders drop a little, the tarnished Loki forced himself to yield to his next words, unwillingly placing his trust in a brother who now considered him no more than dirt.

"You will not harm her, Malekith." He threatened, trying to focus his poison eyes upon the filthy creature that would use his mother as a bargaining chip. "The smallest letting of blood or the gentlest of bruises will result in your head being severed from your neck and I will see your race to true ruin."

The cold brow rose on the elf's face and the suffering prince began to wonder if that was the only and complete outward expression he was capable of making.

"You are in a position of low regard for making serious promises, Liesmith." Malekith spoke quickly to his kinsman in their language before facing the agonized prisoner again.

Frigga, who had been strangely silent to that point, was now supporting her adoptive son as his muscles betrayed him and the pain rushed violently to his brain. She lowered him gently to the ground, ignoring the impassive gazes that were pinned to her movements. Even as the elf went forward again to take her from Loki's side, she kept silent but her tender actions remained focused on her trembling child as he tried to ride out the waves of horror in his body.

"Thor." Loki whispered to her, begging her to understand without revealing anything to the present elves.

Her eyes met his and she gave him a sweet smile, nodding to calm him. A soft hand brushed over his burning head, the coolness of it relieving him a bit.

"Thor." She confirmed, the message clear before her.

And then she was gone, torn away by the elves and dragged from his side. Slumped upon the floor, Loki barked a warning at her handling, quivering hands clenched into weak fists. He sat up as he watched his Mother pulled away and out of the chamber, leaving him in solitude with a dark-armored elf looking down upon him. He hissed at the creature, choking in his throat when a spasm of fire cause his back to arch and caused him to fall back once more. He clenched his eyelids closed, breathing roughly through grit teeth.

"And what of me?" The crumbled convict gasped out. "My use is over, my mother gone and my once-brother's presence ensures your victory. The poison in my magic leaves me an animal to be slaughtered." Loki peered at the elf with glazed orbs. "Will you be the hand that guts me?"

Malekith remained silent for a time, studying his captive as another swirl of pain resulted in tightened muscles and violent groans as he kept trying to keep control. Loki, sprawled upon the floor before him rolled his head to the side, sweat flashing on his skin.

His magic was indeed killing him just as effectively as it was meant to. Being born of frozen hills and icy skin, even in his Asgardian form Loki was victim to the heat. Now he felt lava within as his own source of power battered his frame in civil war, leaving him boiled and his sensitive nerves crying.

And yet the elf merely watched him, as if silently fascinated by his flat display of unwilling vulnerability.

"You have uses yet, young Jotun, even when your state is weak and your first purpose finished." Malekith crouched by the prince's side, touching his outspread wrist and inflicting pain upon him by the smallest of skin contact. "My knowledge of you is vast and your history is one of interest and mistake. From the moment of being conceived to this time you have been marked by others, a tool for so many different purposes. Odin sought to use you, but he is not the only one with power to seek to enthrall you. I have just done so as well."

The pale hand was removed from Loki's wrist, his fingers sliding away in a thoughtful motion. Jaw tight, the incapacitated prisoner remained wordless as the elf pierced him with a surprising and genuinely considering expression.

"But we are not the only two." Malekith's words struck Loki and instantly he felt fear, gliding down the path of understanding when he comprehended what the being meant. "My knowledge of you was not self-gained, Liesmith. My kin are not ones to gossip and I would have no desire to seek your past when the Aether is to be claimed."

Loki's delusional visions came to memory, recalling the cold terror he felt at feeling the presence of his famed tormentor being close. The chains, the tortures that no person could ever endure without releasing reason flashed back into his head as he lay there still. Mad, Thor had called it and Loki could not find himself arguing over that fact. Under the Titan's thumb and whim the fallen prince had indeed gone mad and now…now he understood that he could be facing this again.

He had been caught, retrained and sent out with one goal in his taken and agonized mind….

Do not fail.

Yet he had, even with the threat of eternal entrapment and slavery looming over his head, he had given over to the enemy, he had been defeated. Malekith's words awakened something within him, an animal instinct that cried for him to flee and yet he could not move. One word slipped from his lips, a name he dreaded when he knew the future would bring in the wake of that utterance. It was enough to stiffen Loki, sending him back to the time after his fall, where misery ruled over him.

"Thanos."

Malekith nodded wordlessly, standing once again with Loki still at his feet, his eyes widened in shock.

"Your use remains Liesmith, but I will not speak of how."

He turned towards the door, exiting without another sound, dramatic or otherwise, obviously going forth to confront Thor and his favored mortal. And Loki is left to himself, flesh burning, hurt, left alone and terrified but too proud to admit it.

Thanos…Malekith would expressively transfer him back over to his master when the darkness has settled on the universe and all of space. Once again would the slave come and go at the bidding of his owner, a beaten dog with little to no self-will. The nine worlds would crumble, billions of lives would be flicked out of life and Loki would kneel at the foot of the cause.

Once, he had had his heart burnt out with the tireless effort to be accepted only to be denied affection, another time when he sought to correct himself without noticeable presentation and yet again, upon the bifrost his heart roasted. When he fell, his life ended, his dreams, desires and ultimate pleas all ended without a drum beat or a trumpet, lost in a void of nothingness and awakened with torture inflicted daily.

His heart had died when he forced his mother back, witnessed his brother try to slay him and his father overly reject him as a son.

But now Loki's soul and breath would boil in blackness once again, but this instance with a permanent stain. His heart would be the only heart and Thanos would play at making it shut down in the crumbled remains of who he once was. Once he had been a serf, toiling over the Titan's wishes without the allowance of rest or sustenance. Promises of his family's destruction rained heavily on him without pause, beating into his brain.

Thanos promised him pain though the Other and Loki was all too aware of what that agony consisted of.

Chapter Text

In all his travels Thor had never seen a world so abandoned and broken as that of Svartalfheim, home of the dying race of dark elves. Often his travels would take him to all corners of the Nine Realms, defending, battling and making merry amongst the peoples of each new land was a trait he maintained happily. From the light Elves' Alfhiem, Hogun's Vanaheim and the burning sands of Helhiem, to the vast cold lands of Jotunhiem, the world of Niflhiem and Midgard's little people Thor journeyed and was familiar with them, his name well-known among the inhabitants of each. But Svartalfheim was different and where the land of Jotuns was bleak, it held life, contrary to the desolate plains of Svartalfheim that held nothing of animated existence.

Thor had found the planet neither interesting nor special in any means. He respected the dust upon the ground and the dark hills as the forgotten fields where many brave Aesir warriors bled and died in glorious battle, but he saw nothing further than that. There were no violent beasts to slay, no vicious quest to undergo, not even a plant to trample there. The only breath was that of the howling winds and foreboding breezes, carrying the captured voices of the dead and dying upon its voice.

No, the golden prince had never seen beauty upon this rock, as even the skies carried a murky yellow color, blotting the stars ever out. It was a place of rot and desolation, a wicked place where only the rejected and utterly outcast ones would strive to make livable. Mute and winded, the planet stood without purpose, no people, no conquests and no flourish.

A truly dark home for a darker race.

But in contrast to Thor's disgust, Loki in all the 1,048 years he had lived, had ever found the blank world to be a fascinating thing, speaking of the magical sources that harvested from the remains. He would ramble excitedly about the means of good production, unique elements and materials that could be used and perfected into beautiful and wondrous things. The raw minerals were bountiful there, he had often said, overflowing, unused and begging to be molded into something great. The adoptive prince would explain the advantage of having such an empty world, claiming so many things that it could be turned into for the benefit of Asgard and her people.

Thor had discouraged such ideas, telling him that though it may be uninhabited, it was sacred ground because of those who had fallen on its soils. He had told his little brother to cease trying to desecrate something so precious and to look into something of more use and interest, and never to mention the idea again.

But Loki, being Loki, had refused.

Even now, in his dusty and forgotten chambers, the young prince's plans for Svartalfheim's future use were safely packed away and easily at hand for when he would strive over facts and foundations, funds and means that could make his thoughts fact.

Still, Loki had never been able to change Thor's point of view on the planet. Try and strive as he might to show it's potential for magic users and construction materials, the golden prince had only scoffed, find it neither worth his time nor his attention.

Now, with Jane, Fandral and Volstagg by his side, the Odinson found himself mourning the lack of information for his surroundings. Every part of the planet looked almost identical, the hills all terribly frightening and the plains tossed with dark sands. The wind battered against the group, flapping their cloaks and rattling their armor together with its claws.

"Where are we and where are they?" Fandral asked from beside Jane, his hand gripping at the hilt of his weapon as he smirked. "And more importantly, what now?"

Thor had directly asked the swordsman to keep his main goal in Jane's protection and act as her guard. His skill with any edged weapon bested every creature and foe they had ever encountered, and his dexterity, speed, and agility ranked higher than most fighters, leaving him flexible and more than capable to give aid. Not to mention that Thor trusted him to respect Jane's person, despite his reputation for being flirtatious.

During any battle the dashing warrior would keep to Thor's lover, prepared to give his life for her's as was required of him and what Thor expected him to do.

"Malekith can sense the Aether and no doubt knows our location. He will come, but for now we shall prepare." Thor stated in a short tone, eyes fixed on the distant hills not unlike the one they now stood on. "We should take a good sight at where we are to battle if it be necessary. We know little of this world and surprises are not a welcome gift when in the heat of a fight."

Volstagg muttered his agreement, looking over the realm of the dark elves with blunt distaste.

"Such a task would have been Loki's at one time." His tone was clearly regretful.

Mjölnir hummed dangerously in Thor's hand at the comment, reflecting on the tense muscles of the prince. He turned toward his friend, teeth grit and eyes flashing.

"Mind yourself of what Loki has become, Volstagg." The Odinson spit out, starting forward with no direction in mind. "He shares no bonds with us any longer. If we are to face him, he will die. Do not let your weapon halt for things that no longer exist."

The heavy-set warrior scowled slightly.

"I am aware of it. He is beyond redemption now." He replied steadily, but with no bitterness tinting his words, only sorrowed truth. "But I cannot help but wonder if it is our own actions that have changed him so. We once played by his side, Thor. Let me mourn that which we once had. His skills were once vast and well-toned, a great aid to our adventures. But let me ask you this, did we ever thank him for his work? I will not stay my blade, but neither will I pass by what guilty part I may have had in his downfall."

No one replied to that.

Thor knew the answer though, deep within his chest, buried under the hate and anguish he felt towards his once-brother, that he had never shown Loki gratitude where it should have been given. Often the younger prince had sought him out for approval, only to be brushed aside and ignored. Yes, Thor had hurt him, perhaps even deeply. But Loki had aided in his own Mother's kidnapping and maybe even her death. Wronged though he may have been a few times, Thor would never forgive his brother for crossing such a sacred line. Frigga, who had only loved and wished well on Loki did not deserve to be the brunt of his pent up and childish anger.

And Thor had made a vow, and never before did he break a promise made.

The four companions began to search the area, upturning rocks and scouring the ground to be sure of its firmness. Their time on Jotunheim had taught them that sometimes the floor beneath your feet may not be as solid as you may believe. Sink holes were quite possible of the dying world they now resided on and none of them were in want to suddenly find themselves falling though.

It was as they searched that Jane approached Thor timidly, obviously wanting him to ensure her secutiry and tell her that all would be well. Even as she came beside him, he could sense her fearfulness and need for reassurance. He gave it to her freely, reaching out and securing her hand in his own large one, a smile on his lips, bearded cheeks rising at the motion.

She worried him, what with her skin rapidly becoming more pale, her lips less colored and her once bright orbs darkened. The Aether was killing her and that made him sick with concern. She was so delicate and fragile compared to his own people, unused to the harshness of space travel and foreign powers.

She needed Midgard and Thor regretted having to tear her from it so suddenly.

"What do they call this place?" The human asked, looking about with wonder in her eyes. "It's all so very gloomy. Not very beautiful, huh?"

Thor nodded in agreement, squeezing her hand lightly.

"This is Svartalfheim, home of the dark elves. I have been here only a few, undesired times. I found little adventure in the nothingness it holds. And yes, it is indeed full of gloom."

"Hm, well that explains why those elves like it so much here." Jane smirked, casting a sidelong gaze at the prince. "This is where the Aether comes from, right? I mean, it belongs to the elves, judging by what King Odin said."

The muscled Odinson thought for a minute before answering, trying to recall his lessons as a child regarding the subject. As a boy he had never really taken to learning as Loki, choosing to exercise brute force rather than collect information. Of course, he always was sure to understand the basics of every subject, so as not to appear completely unknowing, but for the most part he chose battle over brains.

But this lesson was one of the few his father had taught both Thor and his adoptive brother in person, making sure they memorized every important fact.

"There are six infinity stones in existence." The golden prince began, eyes scanning the rocks before him as he stomped down to ensure their security. "Both the Aether and the Tesseract are two, the Aether bing the power gem and the Tesseract that space. Each gem contains certain abilities, each unique and different for the other. Whoever wields their power, gains their abilities while it is in use. This is how Malekith would cloud the Nine Realms in darkness with the Aether and how Loki was able to travel with the use of the Tesseract. How the elves gained the Aether is unknown to me, but it's home is here and its purpose was anything but good."

Jane listened with vivid attention, biting her plump lower lip with anxiousness.

"That's incredible. But really, how can the Aether turn everything into darkness?" She shifted her weight to one leg, tapping her fingers against her thigh as she thought. "I mean yeah, it's scary looking and definitely can be defined as a weapon, but it's liquid. It has a certain mass right? It can't just…spread all over like that can it?"

Thor looked at her, willing her to understand that which was beyond her comprehension. She was but a mortal, short lived and while intelligent, with a timidly sized mind. The science she spent her life searching was mere child's play upon Asgard and there was so much more that he knew should could and would never grasp.

"The Aether accesses all power and energy that ever has or will exist, and can boost the other gems' effects. With this energy it can easily spread to every world without hindrance of shape and mass." The prince frowned. "It also allows the user to duplicate almost any physical superhuman ability, which would make Malekith near unstoppable. Once the Aether is unleashed, only by harming the host can you end its power."

Jane studied his face, and Thor could find himself unable to do anything but gaze back with full honesty in his crystal-blue orbs. Right now the scientist stood as the host of the Aether, giving her the power and the ability of superhuman effects. She could be as Thor, strong, firm, not vulnerable to weakness, but she also was very dangerous and could easily cause harm to innocents and other people who would not deserve the wrath of the Aether upon them. Even if they stopped Malekith, killing him before he could accept the gem within himself, it would seek a host to possess if not caged. Jane would be its first choice and if it made it back into her system, she would be forced to go through an excruciating extraction that could not guarantee her survival. Either way, the host would be harmed.

She could die and Thor would not keep that information from her. It was her life and no one had the right to withhold anything of significance from her knowledge if it involved her being. But Thor would still protect and try to keep her from harm, as she deserved his honor and he was willing to give it, not to mention determined.

He had lot Loki to wickedness and Frigga to Loki, he would not lose Jane as well.

She was watching him intently and he saw the faltering look within her face. Reaching out with his unclasped hand, he placed his palm to her cheek, giving reassurance he knew was needed. Jane smiled weakly under his hand, her pale skin heated.

"Thor! They come! The elves!" Fandral raced to his prince's side, face flushed and breathing deeply from the light run he had taken over the hill. His sword was drawn and sweat was beginning to shine on his fine brow, but he looked ready. Thor stepped away from Jane as he continued. "Their ship appeared just over the hill, Malekith is in the plain now, he came right out and looked to us. But Thor, the Queen is with him! Bound, but alive! She is here!"

Thor snatched Mjölnir up from where he had hung her upon his belt, gripping the handle in a tight hold, his mind upon the battle sure to come. Inside he felt a wild rush of relief upon the news. His mother lived! Perhaps hurt, but still within the realm of the living and that was a great thing to be thankful for.

"How many of his kin stand by?" He demanded, starting for the hill with Jane at his heels and his friend by his side.

"He had eight guards with him and that one berserker elf of his." The handsome warrior explained. "They seemed to be awaiting our arrival, simply staying put until we approach them."

Thor paused for a moment, looking into Fandral's dark eyes for something other than the information he had been given, a silent answer to the question he was to ask.

"And Loki?" He questioned deeply, his voice low and black. "Does he stand out with as one of his mother's captors, or does he hide away like the coward he had made us see him as?"

The blond-haired Asgardian frowned at the inquiry, lips tightening together in a thin line.

"He is not among them."

The Odinson nodded mutely, waving his hand towards Jane so that his friend might go stand by her.

When he approached the scene where Volstagg stood diligently by, he caught sight of his mother and was filled with rage. She stood, arms bound before her, gagged and in the arms of the horrid monster of an elf who had caused the chaos within the dungeons when the attack started. Tall and regal as ever, she kept her chin high and her piercing orbs met his, displaying no fear whatsoever.

Right now, in the captive of Malekith's elves, stood Frigga, Queen of Asgard and wife of Odin Allfather, not the gentle and sweet mother Thor had always known as a child. Her emotions were dressed for battle and not an eyelash would bat in terror or with lack of bravery.

Pride flooded Thor's heart at the wonderfully challenging sight before him, knowing her to be the woman who gave birth to him and who shared his blood with.

A warrior at the heart.

Malekith stood before his kin and prisoner, cool blue eyes settling on the golden prince of Asgard with no visible, but plainly understood, distain passing between them. Thor growled under his breath at the creature, hate bubbling viciously within his veins and pulsing with a demanding urge to kill. He stepped up, Mjölnir pointing threateningly towards his foe in his firm grip.

"Release her, creature, or you blood will stain the dead ground beneath your feet. You have no right to hold Asgard's Queen in such a manner and I demand her bonds be cut if you value your life!"

The elf merely raised a brow at the outburst of Thor's anger, but otherwise his face remained impassive and slack.

"And would you also seek your brother's freedom, Asgardian? Return the Aether to us and I will not allow my kin to shed neither the blood of your family just as the Allfather did to ours."

Thor snorted at the brutal offer with no intention of accepting it in his mind. He would not bargain for anything and the elf was due to comprehend that fact.

"Loki is no brother of mine and his chosen company is his own. He needs no freedom beyond that which he chooses for himself!" He snarled at the elves, his weapon humming with electricity, too focused to notice the look of utter anger that passed over his mother's face at his words. "I will not have leverage against me, Malekith. Release the Queen and battle me with honor! Are you but a coward who kidnaps women to get what you so desire? Fight me and I would see your skull shatter beneath Mjölnir's might!"

If Thor had not known the race of dark elves to be stoic and blunt, he would have thought that it was amusement written across Malektih's face at his challenging words. The elves behind him seemed agitated and all had their sights set upon the golden prince, their less disciplined emotions allowing raw hate to be seen in their features.

The deaths of those executed upon Asgard's world seeped into the remaining elves just as Odin had said it would. Being the last few of their dying race, these creatures stood tightly bound and vividly sensitive to their kin, blood and kind. The sudden killing of so many at once left them bruised inside, unable to digest the feelings in any other way but rage and by despising the cause. In plain understanding and statement, Thor was their available reason and target.

While not as strict in emotion as their leaders, the dark elves held a certain place where to draw the line at. They would keep focus, but with a determination to slaughter, allowing them to change their direct goal slightly, enough to keep them without complete unity.

And that was to Thor's advantage.

"Surrender the Aether." Malekith spoke directly, eyes frimly upon the prince. "Your world will burn, but the quick death of your mother is ensured with your cooperation."

This time it was Fandral to reply, his voice jovial and full of comical relief for the current situation and the density it brought.

"I say, good elf!" He grinned terribly, a twinkle sparking in his brown eyes. "You are the worst bartering scum I've ever come to see. For the cooperation of both parties, a somewhat equal amount is due to both dealers! No to mention the drastic-"

Mjölnir flew through the air with a sudden jerk, passing swiftly by Malektih's pointed right ear and shattering the skull of one of the guard behind him. From that moment, both elves and Asgardians clashed, weapons flashing in the dull light of the heavens with no compassion to the wounds and battle beneath her rays.

The elves were swift, agile and much lighter than any Asgardian could ever hope to be. They slashed their blades without mercy and with deadly precision, consistent in their attacks on the three warriors and their attempts of Jane's person. They never touched her though, being met with the violent and ready force of Fandral, stabbing and thrusting accurately as two advanced on him. Volstagg also fought his disadvantage with the lightness of his elven opponent. Still, he displayed only determination at the trying test, surely to see the color of the creature's blood upon his weapon.

Thor hammered at the three elves that cruelly craved for his death and suffering, readily dancing away from Mjölnir's pounding effects and leaving the prince stumbling slightly. He had never drawn weapons with an elf before, considering that Asgard's relation with Alfheim to be considerably good and level. He had gotten drunk upon their realm many a time, launching into fist fights and verbal abuses without delay, but he had never used Mjölnir on them and now saw the difficulty. Mjölnir was a heavy creation to bear, her might feared and her abilities envied, but heavy nonetheless, the complete opposite of his current foes. The elves dodged his blows and smite him upon the arms without fear of his customized hammer.

Yet the prince held out, knowing that sooner or later Malekith would have to try to ensnare the Aether back from Jane's person. He hated the idea of having to temporarily allow her to be placed in harm's way, but his choices were quite limited. Either his love died of a suffering death as host to the Aether, or she faced the elves' rage, even with Fandral fighting loyally by her side.

Either way Jane's survival was not insured, not to mention that of his mother's life.

"Thor!"

The cry came from Volstagg as he struggled, motioning for his prince to look upon their friend.

Fandral, speaking of the flirtatious warrior, dislodged his weapon from a screaming elf's shoulder before swiftly finishing it off with a harsh blow to the temple. Even while Thor and Volstagg battled the four remaining elves, the berserker moved quickly for the sweating Asgardian, who only avoided his blows by fast dodging. The golden prince watched as keenly as he might while fighting as the darkened elf struck his friend upon the hip with his mace, sending the man to the ground with a pained yelp. Yet still he fought, rolling from beneath the elf's weapon and snapping his own blade up and into the stomach of the creature.

The berserker roared in fury, swinging a violent backhand across the downed warrior and sending him sprawling into the dust. As he skidded to a stop, he laid still, breathing ragged and a moan escaping from his torn lips. A noble lion torn down by a bigger beast.

And Jane was left without protection, the berserker eying her helpless form.

That was all Thor needed.

In a fit of anger for the hurt his friend was caused and the attention now placed upon his beloved, the prince struck out, lightening crackling. It struck the four remaining elves with a vicious sting, halting their maneuvers and biting into their armor as they cried out. The cackling light also hit the large creature who had moved towards Jane, but the effect was not like those of his kin. While the others collapsed lifelessly to the dirt, the berserker let out a howl of unchecked hatred, charging the prince as he smoked from the strike.

They both hit the ground grappling and Malekith saw his opening.

He tossed the Queen aside from where he had stood observing the battle, making a direct stride for Jane's trembling form. Volstagg had taken to seeing to Fandral once Thor had taken down the remainder of his opponents, unwittingly forgetting the elven leader in his concern for his friend.

Malekith grabbed the frozen mortal roughly, dragging her to him and placing a dark elven blade to the soft flesh of her exposed throat. Jane let a squeal of fright escape as she was manhandled. Unfortunately the Aether did not react distressfully towards the elf's attack, as if sensing the presence of its foundations. The power rose to the mortal's eyes, blackening them as if they held the starless night sky within.

Malekith was summoning the Aether to himself.

By then Volstagg had noticed his grave mistake in turning his back to Thor's beloved and left his downed friend's side to face the creature.

"Thor!" The heavy-set warrior cried, advancing toward the elf with weapons brandished.

But the prince was still leaden with the task of crushing the berserker elf beneath harsh and powered blows and was unable to turn his attention from the challenging opponent intent on his blood. With Fandral wounded terribly and Thor otherwise occupied, the bearded Asgardian could only watch in raw horror and nagging guilt as the Aether became airborne, extracting itself from Jane's being as she lay captive in Malekith's grasp. It drained from her, floating above the battle scene until completely removed from its host, leaving the human limp.

Frozen eyes of steel looked to where Thor toiled, with the smallest scent of smugness swirling in its depths.

"Your world will burn, Asgardian. My kin have not been slain in vain."

Malekith went to slice through Jane's throat, to allow her to bleed freely upon the ground where his people had been sacrificed so many, many years ago, ignoring the warrior that made to stop him. He would reclaim the Aether and reap darkness upon all that had been known to these people, taking back that which was rightfully of the elves.

Yet as his thin fingers tightened to swiftly end the task, there was a sudden intruding presence of steel within his heart, cutting cleaning through armor and skin to his life source.

Rudy lips at his pointed ear, his last understanding was that he had been slain, far too easily for his rank and with the disgrace of having a woman to be his killer.

"You will never touch a child of mine again, filth." Frigga snarled, twisting her summoned blade and shredding the torn organ within the elf. "No magic, spell, binding or chains could have restrained me from delivering to you my wrath. Die knowing that there is no bond greater in all creation then that between a mother and her child, blood or not."

Asgard's Queen viciously pulled the weapon free, allowing the elf to fall without glory or drama as she caught her son's love safely within her arms. She gave no word to Volstagg as he came beside her as she cradled the young woman protectively in her arms. She merely sat still, awaiting the arrival of her eldest child as he finished off the monster, trusting him to complete the task without further issue.

Above them the Aether glowed darkly, hostless and controlled by the Queen's magic.

When Thor did defeat the creature, he made sure to sever the head from the body in fear of it reawakening. He made his way back towards his companions and mother, sweat gleaming upon his brow and muscles sore from the fight. Making a beeline for his mother, he stopped before where she now knelt, still holding Jane tenderly in her grasp.

"Mother, how is she?" He inquired, too afraid to touch her for fear of causing further harm. "Is she well?"

Silence greeted him.

He did not understand her lack of explanation and looked over to where Fandral was being tended by Volstagg. The large fighter shrugged, clearly not knowing the reason for the Queen's silence either. They had succeeded and she should be rejoicing in their victory.

"Mother?" He tried again, hoping to gain a reaction.

The one he received was not to be expected.

Upon her name being called upon once again Frigga stood, gently putting Jane down with a frame shaking with anger and she looked to her son, whose eyes widened at her rage. Instead of congratulating him and ensuring his health, the Queen raised her hand and struck him, hard, upon he cheek. He stumbled in shock, mouth agape as she hit him once more, lips thinned and without mercy showing in her eyes. The crack resounded through the dull air, leaving even Volstagg in shameless disbelief.

Never had the Queen raised her hand against Thor or Loki, leaving such to Odin to take care of. She was the symbol of safety and sanctuary to both her children as they grew and became young men. She was gentle, kind, serene, never hurting intentionally. Thor knew that all she ever desired was to be the soft to Odin's hard, the warmth to his cold and she had been just that to both her children. Loki had had more need of her company then Thor, but she treated them both with affection and love, never harming them in any way.

And she had struck Thor.

Frigga lifted her chin to her son, cold eyes displaying disappointment and hurt, clouded with burning anger. She was a lioness on the hunt.

"I had thought better of you, Thor." She snapped, fists clenched at her sides. "You shame me with your cruelty and heartlessness. Whatever happened to the boy filled with undoubting love?"

Thor only stared at her, unable to reply to the accusation.

Chapter Text

At the openly oblivious look her son wore, Frigga found it suitable to grace him with another blow, this time to his arm. It wasn't hard or bruising, but it was firm and made him rub it as it smarted. At his torn and slightly rejected look the Queen felt no sympathy for him, raising her chin a dominating manner as she looked over the prince. He didn't deserve her empathy, nor her assurances, not after what he had accused Loki of. After all her adopted child had suffered. What a thick-skulled son she had birthed!

The disappointment she felt in Thor stung and Frigga felt no need to keep from sharing it with him.

"Mother…" Thor's voice was filled with a lack of understanding that made the Asgardian Queen boil inwardly. "I…what….?"

She snapped at him, eyes narrowed. She was in no mood for his idiocy.

"You will be silent!" Thor obeyed instantly, clamping his jaw together as he and his companions looked at her in confusion. She waved them off, focusing only on her child as she spoke. "By what grounds do you abandon all acceptance for you brother? You believe he desires Malekith's treatment, the imprisonment he suffered to keep me safe? Who is this man who stands before me, pledging honor when he would cast away those who are most dear to him? It is not my son, not the boy I raised! Not the child who loved without measure!"

Thor looked horrified at the fiery words that slipped off his mother's usually gentle tongue, but Frigga showed him no mercy in her tone. Her lips were well-practiced in the art of negation and manipulation, just as Loki's. She knew well how to bite with venom, though it was not a widely known skill of hers. While Odin had been the fist and master of the kingdom, she had been the tamer and the peacekeeper, he in more so in brawn and her in brain. She knew well how to weave and spin textures of confusion and influenced emotions. Far from being a fool was she. Her one son left in pain, the other in denial and so she grasped at her skills, worry and hurt filling her mind.

She feared also, feared the destruction of her family's health, both mental and physical. Her maternal hackles were now raised and pity on those who defied her when she felt the urge to protect.

"Have you nothing to say?" She hissed, watching as Thor only stared at her, eyes wide and mouth agape. "Is your mind so set in stone that you cannot reply? Speak Thor, for my patience is gone for your foolishness this day!"

The prince stumbled over his lips in an attempt to form speech, sucking in a full breath of air to help him steady his mind. It was clear he was in shock of how he had been spoken to and was currently trying to absorb the information in a bundled attempt. He was unused to her treatment in this way and was unsure how to respond.

He gasped, finally forcing himself to talk, though he sounded far from confident.

"Mother…. I have not abandoned anyone! It…it was Loki who aided in your capture!" His brow furrowed as Frigga's lips grew thin with displeasure and suddenly anger seemed to hit him dangerously, his spirit rebelling against her accusations. "I only reacted due to his actions! If Malekith turned on him then it is of no case to me! He should have not thrown in his lot with him!" He hefted his weapon up, brandishing in rage. "In his cowardice he aided in your capture and my honor demands me to protect you, brother or no! I-"

"Damn your honor!" Frigga sizzled, effectively cutting off her son.

Now even Jane, Fandral and Volstagg stood by Thor gazing wide-mouthed at the Queen, whereas before they had control enough to show respect in a private quarrel. Never had they heard her speak with such disregard before, never had they seen her grind Thor to dust with language unfitting of a noble woman. Loyal and kind though she may be, she was not one to provoke to such a degree of viciousness.

Only enemies of Asgard and her family were greeted with such hostility from her. Not her subjects, not her friends and most certainly not her offspring.

"Even now Loki is tormented for merely being with me in captivity!" The Queen's eyes were hot with tears, but she refused to allow them to fall. "He did nothing but try to defend me against the elves who would have killed or tortured my person for information or some cruel satisfaction! They did something to him and pained him greatly as I could to nothing but watch!" Her features became rock-like and cold, eyes stabbing her eldest with precision. "And you speak to me of the honor of defending family when you do not? It is hypocrisy you preach, Thor!"

"Mother, please…."

Thor's face was only showing further incomprehension and it burned Frigga's heart to see it. How could he not understand his mistake? How could he stand there expecting his assumptions of Loki to be right? Her Loki, who held so many hidden secrets for fear of the opinions around him. Her Loki, smart, cunning and so, so wronged, by her and everyone. Her Loki who now was alone in his agony, once more left without anyone to challenge the nightmares and shadows with him. Thor knew little to nothing of the truth, his self-confidence far too great for seeing the whole picture, even after his banishment and it irked her.

Why must it always, always be so? After living so long, one would think she could see it….

Soul bruised, she pushed the prince away, furious and betrayed.

"He dies, Thor! He dies and I am not with him!" Her face crumbled suddenly, broken and sorrowed as the thought processed completely. "I…I am not with my baby!"

Hands at her heart, the salty tears slipped through, the purely orbs rolling down her cheeks to drop into dusty ground. Her elegant shoulders shook and a soft sob escaped her throat. Within seconds Thor's arms were about her, comforting and concerned. She fisted her long hand against his chest, weeping gently against the child who only moments ago had held her rage.

"His screams, oh Thor, your brother has endured so many untold horrors. He was so very afraid." The prince shushed her kindly, tightening his strong limbs about her with a surprising tenderness. "He pushed me away when he hurt, as if to protect himself. Am I so terrible a mother that my child fear to have my aid to prevent further harm? Have I truly neglected him to such an extent?"

"This is not your fault." Thor tried to reassure her. "You are my Mother and I have no fear to come to you."

Frigga cried, trembling fingers pressed to her lips as she squeezed her eyes tightly against her stress.

"But Loki would not come to me when it started. Only through coaxing did he find it in him to trust me enough. Is that not a sign of failed link between mother and child, when trust is absent?"

The prince frowned deeply, rubbing his mother's back as she confessed her worry, but he said not a word to contrast to her distress. The Queen knew that his soul lay in the right place, but at his lack of reply she felt withered inside, taking his silence negatively. His muteness spoke multitudes against her and left her ability to raise children in doubt. Had she truly been so neglectful of the pair as they developed into men?

Still, Thor shushed her sorrows gently though he did not answer directly, obviously desiring to calm her soul and understand what had occurred to make her so very upset. Still, it gave no relief to the Queen.

"Tell me of what has happened."

And Frigga did, baring all that had happened since her capture so that her son might see the side of Loki most thought he did not think he possessed. Within her head she could still hear his bitter cries, see his determination to shield himself from her in a cold mask of anger and hate. It burned her when he had cried, the obvious humiliation he had felt at her knowing that there was something deeper going on within him. The shell he had so carefully created for himself had cracked and she had seen the bruised boy concealed inside.

The Queen told her eldest everything, hoping, begging that he would be able to look at his sibling's situation in a different and brighter light. But as she finished her tale, his face remained fixed in it's icy form, hard as stone and just as cold.

"Where is he imprisoned?"

Frigga's jaw set, her hands clenching as she moved a step away from the prince, head raised and eyes glistening with unreleased tears. He did not believe her story, could not comprehend the fact that perhaps Loki was the one wronged. She could see right through him, right to the core of his soul and she was afraid.

"Have you not listened to me, Thor?" The Queen all but hissed, completely appalled by her son's distrust in her words. "Your brother did not bewitch me! At this moment he lies pained and for my protection! Yet still you would look for the worst in him! Do you think I lie?"

Thor frowned, releasing a harsh sigh as he looked over to where Jane, Fandral and Volstagg had subtly moved off to as they felt the pair had need of privacy. He turned back to his mother, his face unhappy at her persistence.

"You have never lied before, but you may have been manipulated to Loki's liking. Thanos, mother? He is but a tale to tell the children to keep them behaved." He hefted his hammer up, meeting her gaze directly. "Tell of his location and I will speak to Loki myself."

The Asgardian Queen stared openly at her child, thrown by his utter loss of faith in her word. There had been a time where neither of her children ever doubted her, finding her trustworthy in all matters and secrets. Now though, they eyed her with suspicious gleams and broken hearts and Frigga knew, she knew that while she may have betrayed them through mistakes, she still loved them both.

Thanos was very real, despite what his life story had become since his banishment. Thor aught to know that every tale has it's roots, a little bit of truth to support the falsity of it. Loki knew this well, and had dedicated mush of his time to uncovering hidden mysteries behind the folklore. He had never been one to share in his discoveries unless one sought him out, believing that none would care to look at what he had dug for with time. As the saying goes, he would not 'cast his pearls before swine', so to speak. It was obviously a protective measure, but none had looked to seeing it broken with trust.

Not even Frigga, and she felt shamed for it.

But right now was not the time for talking out such topics and Loki's life flow was draining as every moment passed. The look in Thor's eyes may have been anything but good, but right now they could waste no more time.

"He lies captive in a hidden cell somewhere in the middle of the ship." She touched her son's weapon with a few whispered words before drawing her fingers away again to meet his electric blue eyes. "Mjölnir shall guide you to his position. The door is sealed, so you will have to crush the wall to make entry."

Thor nodded sternly, waving over to his companions so that they might join them. They acknowledged his signal, gathering up the equipment they had loosed as they awaited the end of the conversation. When the golden prince turned back to his mother, a silent tear of silver rolled down her cheek before she brushed it quickly away. She allowed no emotion on her face then, merely meeting his eyes in a quiet demeanor.

"Stay with Jane, Mother. I would not have you in the field of battle."

"I will not stay."

Thor furrowed his brow, a frown over his lips at her refusal.

"Mother-"

"I am coming, Thor. For your brother's sake as well as for your own." The Queen walked passed him in the direction of the elven ship with a cold air about her. "I would not have you do something you would later come to regret. Do not try to bar me from Loki further."

And so they moved out, leaving the dead elves to rot upon the ground of their home world where thousands of years before the blood of Asgard and Svartalfheim mixed the dirt to reddened mud.

Over the hill stood the tall, dark elven ship Malekith had deemed his own and so crudely had imprisoned Queen and prince within. It had not activated it's shielding cloak and therefore stood foreboding and as a terror against the dark skies. With Frigga at their head, the group moved swiftly over the dusty ground and towards their large destination. Each of them was prepared for a fight. Even Jane, who knew not a thing of combat and warfare had been presented with a small dagger to use for her protection in case her guard was cut. No chances could be taken when in the territory of the enemy.

In a few short minutes they stood together at the base of the gigantic ship, Frigga moving directly for the door as the others gazed up in wonder and awe at the strange creation. Thor also, kept his eyes strait and joined his mother by the passage, the door broken and blackened with burns marks. Three dead elves lay slumped against the walls, their bodies having been pierced and also charred like the door. About them lie their weapons, showing clear signs that they had indeed been ready for intruders.

Thor stepped over the threshold after his mother, the others close at his back. Looking about at the scorched, battered and scratched walls he hummed in acknowledgment of a fight, toughing the battered surface with battle-worn hands. His observation left a light smile on his face and he pulled back his fingers.

"Heimdall and Sif seemed to have left their mark here as we were occupied making our own elsewhere." He grinned at his companions. "The plan goes well."

Fandral snorted at that, raised his sword a bit higher as he observed his surroundings.

"Odin was certainly correct about the amount of rage these elves would have. Just look at the fight these three put up. I do wonder how fair our warrior maid and gatekeeper made it with such bloodthirsty creatures lurking about. Being as this is their ship, their must be a least a hundred."

"Heimdall and Sif are both capable at handling themselves I assure you, Sir Fandral. Our focus must remain with finding Loki and executing any elves they may have missed. " Frigga said, continuing to roam deeper into the darken halls of the enemy ship. "Thor come walk beside me, I have enchanted Mjölnir to guide us so let it do so. Merely listen to the hum, as it grows louder, we shall come closer to your brother."

Thor did as his mother bid of him, walking beside her as he outstretched his weapon before him. No sooner had he done so, the humming started, faint and a soft sound, but certainly there. They followed it dutifully, moving silently through the eerie silence of the voyager, ready to deal with any foes that might appear.

It was fifteen long minutes of utter silence as they passed by destruction and bodies before the humming suddenly began to grow in a slow, gradual way. The unspoken silence, too, was broken by the echos of combat in the corridors ahead, resulting in every one of them to tighten their grips on axe, hammer and blade, prepared for the oncoming fight. Cries of rage, the zap of weapons and the clash of steal greeted the ears of the group, Frigga foremost as she straightened into readjustment.

Thor looked back at his companions, orders firm on his lips.

"Volstagg guard Jane. Fandral, with me, stay close and swing hard." He looked to the Queen. "Mother...I would prefer if you kept safe until forced to wield a tool in defense."

Frigga's eyes flashed in the dark.

"Defense? My child suffers alone, I already act in defense. Move on Thor, it is these creatures who should fear, not I them."

He gave him no chance to reply, for without another word the Queen advanced, the magic that had been dampened within her during her imprisonment in the cell dying for release. It swirled in her system, battering at her limits for a way to escape and be formed. She felt it's need and waited not a moment longer before easing it free of its confinement. Opening her fingers, a blade, long silver and with a delicate curve formed within her hand, it's emerald jeweled hilt resting perfectly in her palm. It glistened in the damp light, promising deadly precision on those who stood against it's mistress. She brought it up, clasping both hands around the double-handle and swiftly turned the corner, robes flaring in the breeze of her movement. The flush of oncoming battle pumped violently through her veins and she embraced it wholeheartedly.

Behind her the whir of Mjölnir followed dutifully, thick rock to her slim steel.

Heimdall and Sif were currently under the brutal attacks of seven elves with nine more sprawled out over the floors, which now glistened with slick blood. Both gatekeeper and warrior were covered in gore of their enemies, as well as their own. Each of them were wounded, as the elves fought with vicious purpose and with an enraged aura about them, using underhanded techniques and movements that brought them little to no honor. But Sif's tactics were hardly to be considered slow, black hair flapping behind her head as she gracefully struck out again and again. Heimdall was no different, his face holding no emotion towards the clashing and fiery advances he fought off.

Frigga joined the fray without a second thought, her son at her back and his friends at his own. One elf quickly lost his head as he turned in shock to defend himself from her sudden appearance and fury. Warm blood soaked her gown, but she paid no heed, moving on. Another turned his gun towards her, only to have Mjölnir fly through the air and strike him fatally in the chest, ribs snapping with the momentum of the strike. Frigga impaled yet another upon her blade, before tossing him into the line of Thor's weapon as it returned. It struck him harshly in the back of the head and a loud crack was heard as it ended him, leaving his skull utterly shattered as Mjölnir was reclaimed by Thor's hand. Frigga made no flinch at the sound, though it was gruesome, moving on to another opponent to destroy.

Queen Frigga, mother of two princes and wife of a warrior King, was in combat and woe to those who stood in her way.

The last few elves that remained were quickly and brutally vanquished, falling one by one under odds they could not defeat. It was only when the last met his end under Volstagg's heavy axe, did Frigga turn her attention to the gatekeeper, her eyes filled with determination and the demand for respect. Jane's mouth was gaping, her eyes ogling out at the woman who at first meeting, seemed too gentle to ever cause harm to anyone, but the Queen paid her no mind, even as Fandral shushed her shock. The golden eyes of Asgard's guardian met hers and understanding passed without words between them.

Frigga wanted her son and she would wait no longer to get him.

"How is your sight within this vessel, Gatekeeper?"

"I can see, my Queen." Heimdall stated, eyes strait as though staring into a void none could ever understand but him. "It is not clear, as the elves are a shadowed kind, but my eyes can see much within."

"He lives still?" Frigga questioned, hear pounding with fear at the idea of losing her second-born.

The man bowed to her in affirmation, the grip on his spear tight and his mouth in a thin line. His deep voice filled the hall as he spoke reverently to his Queen.

"He is weak and fades, but life is still within him. The poison has taken a toll on his body and I fear that aid will be too late. Speed is the only weapon that may save him."

"We won't get there in time!" Jane's voice jumped out suddenly, soundly oddly misplaced in the deep and cumbersome atmosphere. "We're not even halfway to the middle of this place."

Frigga's throat felt tight as she heard Heimdall's words, allowing them to register into her mind and understand just what danger Loki lay within. Thor moved next to Jane for comfort but the Queen did not even see the action occur, her mind past the obvious statement the mortal had made. She knew they had no chance of reaching his level in time to save his life, not with so many elves still at large and fuming with boiling rage for those who ended their leader and fellows. The outcome upon their arrival would most likely be Loki dying within her arms, afraid, confused and while not alone, he would probably not understand the fact, thinking himself abandoned once more by all he had held dear.

Such a terrible thing she could not allow.

The mother within her could not take such thoughts and her heart shattered with the very idea of losing her dark child a second time. No, she would die herself before she allowed him to be forgotten once more. If he was to die, then one would not be able to say she did not try to stop his death to the best of her ability. The things she had learned of him, his suffering after falling to the void, demanded her to try and save him, even at the cost of her own life.

Yet, there was a chance, a possibility of saving his life. She would have to do it alone, but it was worth a try.

"I will teleport to him."

Thor instantly scorned the idea, eye wide as he moved towards his mother. It was no surprise, his discouragement. He knew the dangers of preforming such magic in a ship like this, clouded in shrouds of darkness, a location uncertain. Frigga could very well end up in a wall, suffocation being her end as her son tried frantically to find her only for it to be too late. It mattered little to her though, the chance of her dying when Loki was doing exactly that.

"You cannot! I will not let you Mother, it is too dangerous and-"

"I cannot leave Loki alone for another moment Thor, not with the state he is in. You may not have forgiven him, you may not even hold him as your brother any longer, but he is and always shall be my son." The Asgardian woman looked upon her golden child, head raised in defiance. "Were it you alone and sick, Thor, I would go to you as well, regardless of what crimes you may have committed. My skills are needed with him now. It is my duty and my wish to do this, would you begrudge me the demand to aid my child?"

Thor shook his head, not moving in his decision against her.

"Mother Loki would not desire this of you. Surely-"

Frigga cut him off once more, staring directly into his blue orbs.

"Use Mjölnir to locate us, I will be waiting for you by Loki's side."

Her gaze softened slight and she allowed a small smile to grace her features for his benefit. If this was the last time Thor would ever see her, she did not want him to remember her stern face and bloodied clothing, she was still his mother and she would do this for him also if he needed it. He was merely misguided and worried, not hateful and therefore did not deserve anymore hurt.

"Be quick, my son, your brother's life depends on your speed. Vanquish all and leave non alive to cause more pain." She touched his face softly, fingers brushing over his cheek as he reached up to hold her hand. "Hurry and find us."

Gripping her blade she gently closed her lids and sighed, Thor's cry ringing in her ears as she whispered a few soft words.

And then she was gone, the weight of Thor's hand vanishing with her. Using her magic to guide her through the ship's outline with the image of her prison in mind, she began her search for Loki. She did not know if this vessel had barriers to prevent anyone from teleporting within, but she also knew that she would have to risk it to find her child.

With the intelligence and experience in magic she contained, she was quickly able to locate the desolate spot where she and her son had been held prisoner under Malekith. However, instead of only sensing her son's presence within the room, she felt another few, at least three, all hostile in intent, moving towards his weakening aura just outside of his chamber. They were odd, not bearing the same level of red shadows as the elves. Instead they seemed brighter, more filled with the blue glow that surrounded those beings who were not planted to one home world.

She wasted no time then, flashing herself into the room after delicately feeling it's barriers with her magic, and hoping that that was indeed where she would land.

With a bright light and a mist of golden magic about her, she raised her lashes, relief settling in her breast as she found herself mobile and not restrained by a solid wall.

She had made it successfully.

Without hesitation, sh turned to look about the room and instantly located Loki, lying still and barely breathing upon the polished ground. His skin was white as paper, eyes bruised and purple, and his cracked lips were open slightly. The rise of his chest was ragged and slow, his prison clothing was thin and thread-bare, having not been changed since his imprisonment in Asgard.

"Loki..."

Frigga's heart ached and she felt the magnetic pull of maternal instincts telling her to go to him without a moment's thought.

But outside the chamber she felt the three wicked auras, heading for the room in a hurried fashion. She quelled her emotion and waited patiently, blade ready. She did not know what manner of creatures these were, but she knew their intent and she would die before they got anywhere near her son. She froze, breathing lightly.

Seconds later, the door appeared and slowly slide open from the outside to reveal three Chitauri soldiers.

She moved like lightening, furious with the realization of what was just about to occur had she not appeared when she did. Two met their deaths so quickly, they did not even have the chance to breathe again after meeting her gaze before hitting the floor. The third she impaled with her blade, twisting it fatally through his heart with pure hate before pulling the blade back out, now stained purple and red with the blood of her previous foes still lingering.

Three had come to take her son, three now lay defeated before her feet, a proof of her determination.

It was only after checking to ensure they were dead with the sharpness of her weapon, that she turned back to her son, dropping the sword and rushing to his side as she finally allowed her emotions to enfold once more. She knelt by his side, cradling his pale body in her arms and placed a trembling hand to his heart, speaking words of protection and delay against the poison that left Loki frail and so close to death.

It shriveled from her golden mist, retreating back from where it had began to creep into his pounding heart. It raced from her presence and she formed a temporary wall within her boy's veins, filtering the poison from his magic until he might be able to get professional help in Asgard.

Removing her hand when satisfied, she allowed her gaze to fall on the dark prince's face.

"Loki?"

No response.

Battling the silence with her own breaths, Frigga held tightly to her adoptive son, looking to the door. She resigned herself to awaiting Thor's arrival.

Chapter Text

Quiet, soft humming was the first thing Loki registered when pulling out of unconsciousness. It was mechanic though, not caused by the mouth of any sentient being, as it had no need of breaking for air. Still, it was a comfort to his aching senses and burning mind. It was a constant and he therefore used it as a focus point to drag his mind to awareness.

Thin lids fluttered wearily open, revealing the emerald eyes. They were dulled with pain and medication, but were nevertheless vivid in taking in his surroundings.

The dark prince lay upon a soft king-sized bed, with crisp, clean sheets at his back and blankets of the deepest green covering his worn body. Behind his head was a silken pillow that eased the pounding in his skull and allowed his dark locks to spread over its surface. He was dressed not in the thick layers of his ceremonial outfit and the thin clothing of his time in the dungeons were absent as well. Instead he wore simple cotton night cloths that he instantly recognized from his wardrobe that had been forfeit after his imprisonment. In fact, this bed, his bed, (and room and blankets and pillows) and all other possessions of his had also been stripped of him along with his rank and dignity in the lower regions of Asgard. While he had been more comfortable than the average prisoner, he had had to suffer the loss of many home comforts. He had tried to ignore it and gather what remains of his honor he could at the searching eyes of his fellow convicts. To be weak in such a place was a strain, demanded by his pride, but a strain nonetheless. Captives were not supposed to be happy after all.

Thin, pale fingers gripped at the covers and Loki brought them to his nose, breathing in the scent of the freshly cleaned cloth and relishing in it. However, it was while he was enjoying the idea of once more being in his own bed in his own room, that he was suddenly shocked back to his current position.

There were carefully crafted manacles about his wrists with a silver chain that led over the blankets and beyond his sight beneath the green bed curtains. Suddenly panicked, the prince scrambled at his bindings, pulling and scratching futilely at the cold metal without any effect.

He was back in Asgard, a world that considered him less than dirt and he left with no way of escape. He had gotten loose before, only to be captured by Malekith and left to regret it, sure, but he knew that Odin would hardly take that as an excuse for leaving his cell. He had been lucky to slither out of execution after his mess with Midgard before, but now? Now The Allfather would be not even hesitate before making a public display of his youngest loosing his head for cowardly fleeing his sentence.

Yes, he was certainly going to have a hard time wording his defense now. That is, if they let him.

When struggling with the cuffs for twenty minutes only produced raw wrists and a bruised fingers, Loki surrendered to his fate. Being unable to run, tired to the marrow and completely buzzed with a light brush of agony, he saw no point in pushing himself for a hopeless cause.

All in all, it seemed as if even fate had condemned him to the wrath of what was to come, deserved or not, and nothing he could do or say would change that. Instead he just sat in the silence, limbs limp and the humming (that he now identified to be magical barriers to keep him within the bed) his only companion as he awaited whatever was to come. He let his mind wander to the possibilities of how he had gotten to Asgard from Malekith's captivity and what had happened to his Mother after she had been dragged from his presence.

Two whole hours he was left alone, not even a servant coming in to check to see if he had awakened and therefore inform his fath-the King of his current state. He spent that time in tense insecurity and with a tinge of dreaded fear, completely unsure of the future. Ha, well no matter what it was, it certainly wouldn't be good on his part.

When the sound of his chamber door creaking open finally reached the prince's ears, he suddenly felt a chill flush over him. Two set of feet patting over the carpeted floor, one definitely to be defined as female, judging by the soft tread and the other doubtlessly a man, making firm thumps with each step.

The bed curtains were brushed aside by a delicate hand, revealing, to Loki's relief, Frigga, a smile on her lips and looking more beautiful than he had ever seen her. She was safe, Malekith had not taken the last person who gave a care for him away. Of course, he was probably dead then, since he had been so hell-bent on doing so, but Loki was hardly to be found weeping over the fact.

"Loki." Frigga leaned over the bed, placing the back of her hand gently over her adoptive son's head and checking his temperature. "You've been sleeping for a long while, how are you feeling?"

Still rather blown by the sudden presence of his mother, the chained prince leaned into her touch, relishing the idea that she was alive and well, when his last sight of her had been the elves pulling her off to an unknown fate. Still, he refrained from displaying too much emotion to her other than a small quirk of his lips, as he was still to find out the identity of the man who had entered. Loving Frigga was a private matter, even when it came to Thor and Odin. Neither could ever understand the bond that lay between them and he certainly wasn't about to give anyone an insight on it.

"The pain is lessened, but I presume that you were able to remove the poison from my system? I no longer feel my magic lashing out without escape." He paused, green eyes looking down at the shackles on his wrists before sending his mother a soft smirk. "Well, for the most part."

Frigga frowned at the chains, withdrawing her hand and letting out a sigh.

"Your father was adamant that you wear them, Loki, I played no part in that."

"The idea was not even considered, you would never bind me when in my sleep."

"Perhaps, but sometimes a vocal statement can clear suspicions before they start." The Queen sat on the bed covers, taking on of Loki's hands into her own and meeting his emerald gaze directly. The movement was subtle, but the prince could easily sense the tension and turmoil that lurked beneath his mother's skin and he knew instantly that something was conflicted within her. "In answer to your question, we were able to retrieve the potion before it proved fatal, but your magic will be unstable for a while. I've had the poison tested by the healers. Loki, I know what Malekith inflicted on you and I am so sorry I could not prevent it. You must have had no rest, even in sleep, with the images of the horrors you've endured flashing before you. Had I known, perhaps I could have tried harder to cease it. My son, I am so very sorry for failing you yet again."

Loki went still. She branded his torture upon herself? She had been his constant, his stand point that was like food to a starving man. When all the world had gone dark and all he knew had abandoned him, her light was what kept him alive and sane. Through all that and he tried to take his hurt on herself?

The jotun prince could not, would not, allow it. Not now, not ever.

"You are not to blame."

"Yet I did not understand the sufferings you were enduring."

"Ignorance in aid does not cause guilt to the one trying to assist." Loki set his jaw. "I will not have you labeling yourself based on lack of knowledge. You could not have done anything about it and you know this. Do not overextend your mourning for incapability at a time of need. You did what you could and that is all that matters."

Casting a glance back towards his mother, he saw her opening her mouth to reply in counter, and quickly turned the conversation in a different direction before she could utter a word.

"What does Odin plan for me, then? Execution?" He let out a shuddering breath then, and while it was genuine, he made it more audible so that he might take Frigga's attention completely away from the last point they had been talking on. "My sentence was strict in regards to escape attempts. No doubt he shall take active note of this and punish me in like manner for my absence from my cell."

It was clear the Queen was hardly fooled by his play on flipping the subject, but she made no comment, effectively caught by the words he had spoken. He eyes widened at what he implied and she was adamant in her condemnation of them.

"Loki, your father has no plan on bloodletting." She caught his chin in her hand and forced him to meet her stare. "Though your punishment is far from erased, you are not to be imprisoned and most definitely not slain. I would not permit it. Odin has taken in my account on what occurred and has shown leniency. You will be restricted, but no longer confined."

Shock rocked the dark prince, and he suddenly found that he could not take his eyes away from the regal one's of his mother. Leniency and Odin in the same statement when the topic was Loki? Heaven knows that if it could rain elephants, it would be pouring outside. He didn't believe it. There was no possible way that it could ever be truth. Odin despised Loki and had made that fact quite clear as he sentenced him away.

Loki's birthright had been to die. Odin said it and it was probably the only true thing he had ever spoken to his frost giant runt.

"Th-then why the chains?" Mentally scrambling for an edge, he lifted his bound hands. "If he truly though to show leniency then why am I still chained like an animal? Does he truly fear me so much or did he merely lie to you, my mother, as he has so many times to me?"

Before Frigga had a chance to respond, another voice entered the picture and a powerful hand moved the curtains aside without any sign of care.

"You are still a prisoner, even when granted space and spared your life. Every night you will be bound, just be thankful that you lie within your own bed and not within a dungeon cell."

Electric blue orbs stared directly into Loki's own emerald ones and instantly he felt himself retract a bit, knowing the prowess of the other to rank much higher than his.

"Thor." He swallowed thickly, teeth clenching within his mouth as Loki tried to control the emotions that raged within him. "I did not know you were present..."

He trailed off, too frozen to continue.

Thor, however, was not to be deterred by his lack of words, practically sneering out his own.

"Midgard taught me many things, including the value of silence and having the will to listen. That world you tried to take and destroy has so many more wonderful gifts, but I doubt you'd care for such trivial nonsense."

If Loki had been shocked by receiving mercy from a King who was rarely known for such things, he was absolutely stunned by the change that had taken hold of Thor. Where once there had been an overly lovable fool, there now was a furious prince with pure hate in his eyes for the prisoner before him. Old Thor had hurt him many times, yes, but it was usually because of his blindness to understand the feelings of others. Very few times had it been deliberate pain he caused and never before had he despised Loki, even with his desperate pranks and tricks.

Now, this new version of Thor, he felt only a loathing that left him without words.

"Thor!" Frigga's stern tone did not break their intense eye-contact, but it caught their ears. "Do not speak to your brother that way!"

The golden-haired man made a scornful laugh and Loki shrinked inwardly at the sound, so foreign and odd as it was. It wasn't maniacal, but it was certainly disturbing, especially since his tone was normal and clear.

"That creature is no brother of mine. I have told you this Mother, he has no place with us. What with Malekith-"

"Loki had nothing to do with that, Thor, I've told you as such."

"And I've said I would hear it from his own mouth." He looked to the chained Loki, eyes narrowed. "Well? Is your frosty heart also guilty of trying to hurt the one you once called mother?"

Loki's mouth gaped in disbelief. Thor had thought he had aided Malekith? Granted it may have looked like that when they were taken, but didn't his Mother's words coupled with his not-brother's condition show proof of his resistance? Did he truly think him so low as to cause harm to the only one left to care for him?

In a downcast whisper, Loki replied.

"I would never hurt Mother."

"Mother?" Thor growled. "You deny your father and sibling but you'll keep Mother? We come together Loki, not parted. You cannot have one without the rest. We are bound by blood as proof, but you? What have you to call yourself Odinson? Even your name was gifted to you by Odin. What binds you to us? What worth have you?"

Frigga resembled a boiling volcano on the verge of eruption as Thor finished his statement. Her eyes seemed like daggers of molten steel as she stood up and with a very firm voice told the elder prince to make his exit instantly. He did as she bid, but not without absorbing the shattered expression of his little brother's face as he left. Loki, in turn, knew what had just happened and was utterly confused. Once Thor made his leave Frigga locked the door behind him.

Thor had struck a deep blow, one far too understood to be normal for him unless he had altered his personality fully during Loki's imprisonment. Something seemed wrong. His heart burned more than Thor would ever be capable of doing and it left him feeling empty.

"I don't understand what possessed him to speak in such a manner, Loki." Frigga pleaded, observing the blank face that take taken hold of her son. She moved towards him, taking him into an embrace and holding him close to her bosom. "He has been disturbed since my captivity. Simply know that neither Odin nor I think that way of you. Odin may be harsh and perhaps even cruel, but his heart knows the truth."

Loki blinked. Odin had renounced him certainly, perhaps not before all of Asgard's people so that they might bear witness, but definitely in private. Perhaps that was all the worse, as those outside the palace would believe all goes well, those who dwelled within would know the stark contrary.

"It hardly matters. Any love I felt towards the Allfather is dead and I knew of Thor's wrath before now." He sighed, bringing his fingers up to his temples and rubbing them, his chains clinking with each movement. "Thor did not lie in saying I have nothing to show my worth with. What more can I be but a Frost Giant runt, cast out by all, even his own blood relatives? I am a monster, playing the role of a prince."

At that, the Queen frowned angrily, moving back from her son and looking him straight in the eyes as she had so many times in his youth. Loki had never been one for self-confidence when dealing with emotions and what others thought of him. He had had his magic to fall back on when hurt, which was quite a frequent occurrence due to his cloaked sensitivity, and in result many people grew to hate him for his backlash of tricks.

"You are my son, and you are worth more to me then all the stars combined. Those who gave you up surrendered the thrill of knowing you, and you should not dwell on them." The Queen softened her tone, noticing the blank expression of protection he wore. He knew well that every mother thought this way of her children, but when eyes of universe names you to be disgusting, what can the opinion of one who gives love unconditioned be? "The Frost Giants are no more monsters then you or I...Harsh and brute they may be, I cannot believe that they're entire race is that of sniveling creatures. They feel, Loki, and you are proof of it. Blue or pale, you love, feel hurt and understand duty. Is this not proof enough? You are not a monster."

Loki gave no reply and turned his face away from her. Her words slipped past him, brushing at his hearing before disappearing into the air. He was too weary to speak anymore on subjects that had already been finalized, through word or thought. He knew what people wished of him, his subjection or his permanent absence. While Frigga's view on him was the only one he cherished and held himself up to now, she could not stand against the tidal wave of hate that hit him hard, no matter how much she worked against it. She did not control people's minds and neither did she think for them. Those who thought ill of him would always do so, regardless of what she desired.

The minutes passed in awkward silence, one hoping for a reaction and the other not willing to give it.

Eventually, Loki leaned further back in his pillows, his head pounding for relief. He cast a swift glance at his chained hands, before looking back at his mother's downcast eyes. Questions assaulted his mind and he bit his lip lightly. He had bruised Frigga with his lack of reply to her heartfelt statement, but he knew that by responding negatively (which he certainly would have) he would have prolonged piercing her heart again and again, something he simply could not do.

"What are the boarders I must understand in this altered sentence of mine?" Loki raised his bound wrists, the metal clinking lightly in the monotone of the room. "I am to be leashed during the nights, but what of my days? What accesses do I have?"

Frigga sighed, frowning at where he decided to take the conversation.

"You are to have restraining bracelets at all times, restricting your magic unless given permission to use it. The armory, the vaults and outer walls are all off limits and will result in your immediate confinement. You are also forbidden to enter the training grounds unless escorted." She stilled, shoulders weighing down lightly as she continued, clearly upset. "Odin has said that you are to remain from entering the banquet halls as well as the throne room and council chambers. However, the library is open to your use, but you are not permitted to do any magical research. The stables, too, you may use if you wish to ride, but you may not go beyond the palace walls. You are expected to return to your room at nine o'clock every evening, so that you can once more be restrained."

Loki swallowed, trying to ignore the sudden feeling of the walls closing in on him. He had grown up in this place and to be confined so...it was an odd and terrible feeling.

"That is quite a list."'

Frigga nodded.

"Odin would not yield at many points when I tried to gain you more space. However, Loki, there is more that shall be required of you." She paused, breathing deeply. "The Allfather believes that you should meet with Sylire, the Master Healer, every other day to understand the state of your...mental capabilities and capacity. You are to speak with him of the experiences you've had since Thor's failed coronation." The Queen sat straighter. "I support his wishes in this area, my son."

"You think me mad then?" Loki whispered, a aching throb within his chest.

Loki was quite aware of the many issues his mind had developed over the years as he spiraled further and further into depression formed of a want for acceptance and placement. Of course, it had been various things that had set him into the desperate turn he had taken, he knew each problem by heart like a dagger lodged firmly in his chest. Sometimes it was little things, being rejected by Thor's friends over and over, being cut off when trying to make a point or being scoffed at for his 'womanly' use of magic. Other times it was more serious things, like Odin blaming Thor's past incompetence on Loki's head or being shamed in public for his tricks.

And then Thanos...

Yes, Loki understood that he had his mental challenges now, but he didn't want to add the label of insanity to his plate.

Frigga smiled sadly, grasping his hands tightly in her own.

"Not mad, Loki, merely misguided and confused. You've been neglected so much in vast manner in this way and I can't allow it to continue. Your abilities are so many and so bright that I cannot permit them to be lost within you. You could climb to such lengths and I want to aid you in getting there. You simply need another to give you confidence in this regard so that you might build up your own."

The dark prince stared silently at his lap, making no move but a light twitch in his jaw.

His mother seemed to sense a deep disturbance in him combining to the already twirling mess within him and leaned forward, kissing his temple tenderly and pulling back as she went to stand.

"Rest for tonight, my son. I will send some one tomorrow morning to release you."

She turned to leave him but a question rose in Loki's mind and he stopped her with his voice. It was something he had to know and while he had already guessed the answer, he wanted to be sure.

"What happened to Malekith?" He swallowed. "Does he live?"

Instantly the Queen turned back to Loki, eyes hard and glimmering with a deadly light at the mention of the dark elf. Even before she spoke Loki knew what had happened and a warmth settled over him.

"He is dead. His end was disgraceful, and his corpse lies sprawled upon the plains of his home world to decay without honor."

Indeed, Loki was glad to have Frigga on his side, for a fearsome and merciless enemy would she make on the field of battle.

She left then, leaving her son to his thoughts in the quiet of his old room.

Chapter Text

The next morning Loki was released from his bonds as Frigga had said. However the guard who handled him was anything but to be considered considerate of the captive. The adoptive prince had still been in slumber when he was dragged from his bed by the careless man who was far from concerned about injuring him. He had crudely pulled his hands up by the chain leash and roughly released them, shoving the weary and bleary prisoner back down and instructing him to dress.

It was then that Loki found all his royal and majestic clothing had been replaced by plain, humble outfits, the material no longer based on his sole comfort.

The marking of his fall in rank had begun, blatant and obvious for all who would see him. He expected no less though, especially after the verbal blows that Thor had uttered, disowning his brother where he knew it would burn like acid upon his mind. Honestly, the disgraced prince had been surprised at catching any sleep that past night, his thoughts still dwelling on the words growled at him. Of course, he had become a master of detaching himself from the present, if only as an instinct avoid more emotional harm being set upon him. Over the past few years especially, his survival and what little remained of his sanity had depended on it. It didn't mean that he didn't absorb the strikes against him, it simply meant that he could sometimes have the mercy of numbing himself to it, a gift he was entirely thankful for.

Loki dressed swiftly in a deep blue tunic, black trousers and thick, calf length leather boots, combed back his lengthy hair into a manageable style and, with a shaky breath, opened the door to where the guard stood waiting in the corridor. He knew not what was to happen now. Would he dine alone from now on, completely rejected by his once-family, would Odin even deem him worthy of being fed in the morning simply to remind his adoptive son of his place? Perhaps not. Loki shuddered.

The idea of having starvation added to his means of punishment was something he was certainly familiar with and was unsure if he could endure again. Malekith had not bothered to nourish his captives and Thanos...Thanos only threw scraps his way when he yielded under the pressure, willing to do anything and everything to make the agony cease. Food was a reward for behaving as it was desired of him, starvation was the result of disobedience, insolence and rising above his station, whether he knew he had done it or not.

Loki could only hope for the best as he was ordered to follow the guard.

Since they were in a private area of the palace, Loki was not subjected to the displeasing stares and openly vicious looks that was usual for him to receive, though he tended to ignore them until they simply became a blended background. He walked through the hallways he had grown up in as a child, suppressing the thousands of memories that battered his mind. He kept forward, ignoring the biting of his past and was pleasantly surprised to find that he was indeed being brought to the royal dining hall (which was truly just a very large room). Relief flooded through him with a silent berating to himself for doubting that Frigga would fight to allow him meals.

However, the relief he felt was instantly replaced by a tremor of fear and an overabundance of uncertainty as the polished wooden doors were opened before him. His last family breakfast had been so very long ago.

While he had known his mother would be present during the meal, he was stunned to find Odin and Thor also there, conversing with each other in quiet tones. Thor's animosity towards him left the expectation that his presence was unwanted and Odin...Loki had not seen the Allfather since he had been stored away in the bowels of Asgard. He didn't know what to do and stood there frozen, breathing quickening as he realized he wouldn't have a choice but to dine with them, not with the guard at his back blocking his only escape. It was only with the gentle eyes of his mother upon him that he found the courage to move. With a thick swallow he put his head down, quivering slightly as he was nudged forwards and to the seat he was to take.

He felt like an intruder.

Frigga was the only one to greet him, bidding him a welcome and warm good morning followed by an inquiry of how he had slept. He replied softly, not looking up as he settled into his chair. No sooner had he sat down then Thor stood up, dismissing himself with a blunt look of disgust to Loki and strutting off before anyone would say otherwise.

Feeling queer and odd while trying to push away the feelings that barked at him at Thor's actions, the dark prince stared blankly down at his plate, the sight of the food making him feel nauseous all of a sudden.

"Is there an issue with what is before you?" Odin's voice echoed suddenly throughout the room, firm and emotionless, making Loki startle slightly.

He trembled, unsure how to respond, so very different from his determined and sure demeanor.

"N-no..."

"Then eat it."

It was a direct order and so Loki did as he was bid instantly, picking up his eating utensils with shaking fingers and forcing himself to consume his meal.

The meat felt like ash on his tongue, the cooked eggs and lightly seasoned potatoes like char, but he ate, too fearful of what the consequences would be if he did not. He could feel the shadow Odin projected mentally over his mind, looming and dominant with a stony resolve for obedience and respect. It was a weight Loki had felt all his life, whether it was with purpose or personality he knew not. It held similar traits to the one Thor had cast over him, except that Thor's had been flooded with the demand for amusement applied with the traits his father had. Frigga had never been a shadow, only ever bringing light, joy and peace to him, shrouding him in the invisible wings of maternal love and acceptance.

He was glad she sat by his side now, ever in support of him and ever ready to defend, regardless of his worth.

The meal went slowly by and while he was mostly left alone, the King and Queen spoke on, talking of simple matters that required a little touch of royal command. Loki listened, forcing himself to swallow forkful after dreaded forkful until his plate was clear. He never raised his eyes, even when he noticed the detached tone Frigga has adapted with her husband, and it was not hard to see that she was displeased in some way. Loki was hardly certain of what the matter was but he decided he was not required to know.

When he finally cleared his plate with a final mouthful, forcing it down his throat with a provided glass of water like rocks down a reluctant pipe, he set the glass down and froze, insecurity replacing his motor-like attention. For a few moments he sat still, unsure of what to do now he had completed dining. As a prisoner did he have the right to just rise and leave his captor's table? Odin and Frigga still spoke between polite bites and he felt loathed to interrupt. Still, the apprehension was too much to handle on his already straining sanity and he made a decision to jump rather than drown.

If he misjudged it would just be another issue to add to his record.

Standing up and keeping his eyes carefully away from the Allfather, he took a breath, closing his eyes to calm himself.

"May I be dismissed?" He felt like a child asking, but he knew he had to tread carefully if he desired to remain in good health and with what little freedom he had. Thor did not have such worries as he stomped around the palace, but Loki was tentative to push his boundaries too far.

Odin looked at him, his sole eye piercing into the inwardly cowed figure before him. Frigga said nothing, lips in a thin line as she kept her eyes on her spouse.

"You may." Loki let out a subtle sigh, about to leave his place with a gentle thanks when he was stopped by the strong voice of his once-father. " Go and wait in my private study, I will be there momentarily."

So much for relief.

Heart pounding, Loki bowed and slipped from the room breathing harshly. He slumped against the closed door and brought his quaking hands to his face. Just when he thought he had escaped the ordeal without further need to feel oppressing stress, Odin's voice had spoken, breaking through any hope he had built up. He had been afraid before, not knowing what he would meet upon entering that room and now, now he felt raw terror at the delayed meeting he now had to face.

Honestly, Loki didn't know how he was going to have the ability to stand against it directly, being under the quick eye of the Allfather and accept whatever he visited upon him. Would he hurt him? Loki was not positive, but it was always possible that Odin would think his restrictions not punishment enough and display the effort for private reprimand. He couldn't risk ruling the scenario out. The suspension of not knowing was already wounding Loki, leaving him completely throw and unsure what strands of sanity to grasp at.

The guard who had escorted Loki to the dining hall was no longer there, perhaps as a test to see if the captive prince would flee the oncoming confrontation. Which, in truth, was definitely an appealing concept, but one with a backlash that would undoubtedly burn Loki in his delicate situation.

So he went, feet heavy and soul twitching nervously down the marble floors and golden pillars in the direction of the designated place of meeting.

Once more he kept his head down as he walked, knowing that while Thor was likely off with the Warriors Three and Sif, there were still a few guards who would cast wary glances his way. He wandered carefully down the halls, his steps light and slow as he went. Already he felt worn by the breakfast he had endured, but this? Would he truly be able to stand through whatever the Allfather wished to discuss?

Odin's private study was, while a simple place of work, filled with intensively carved walls and colors of the sweetest red-wine. It was a common place for meeting of direct contact between the Allfather and invited or visiting people of high and important status. Loki had been allowed within the chamber in only a handful of necessary callings. When he was younger, it had been in meeting with the Elven King with a discussed arrangement of marriage between Loki and the elven princess. The younger prince had been required to make the foreigners acquaintance and while the deal was never committed, Loki had enjoyed the attention he had gained.

In his elder years he had come to the study to discuss problems in Asgard, of trade and various other topics that needed attention from one of royal family and lead him to consult his father for assurance. Back then he had felt responsible, appreciated and maybe even a bit loved by Odin. Now though? Even as he gently pushed the oaken door for entrance, Loki was certain he would never feel those emotions from his father again. If he ever completed his sentences and made due reparation to the point of exhaustion, he would never have a bonding with Odin like he had had, little though it was.

The idea made Loki's chest ache painfully.

Stepping lightly over the floorboards, he looked about, uncertain where it would be appropriate to await his King. The dark-polished desk and cushioned chairs seemed far too elegant to ink up with his touch. No, he would not sit there unless commanded, judging safety to outrank his comfort. He did not wish to be seen as assuming his position higher than it truly was, after all. Instead, he opted for settling himself on the window seat to the far right, away from the desk, chairs and shelves and flushing golden sunlight upon his pale features. He gently touched his fingers to the warmed glass, smiling grimly to himself as the beauty of the outside world.

In prison he had missed these sites, watching the wind sift through the leaves and make trees dance. Nature did not judge, did not sneer and did not lie, making it a close companion to his heart, unable to hurt him deeply.

Long minutes passed and Loki found his emerald eyes entranced by the environment, completely oblivious to the sound of someone entering into the room.

"Loki."

The fallen prince startled, spinning away from the window and looking up with wide eyes at his father. His breath caught in his throat, leaving him unable to speak as fear took over his senses. Panic bit wickedly into his mind and the terror he felt left him paralyzed.

At his silence, Odin's grim face frowned, as if confused by the behavior of his prodigal son.

"Loki?" Reached forward, resting the palm of his hand on Loki's shoulder. "Are you well?"

Shocked by the touch, the dark-haired young man sucked in a desperate gulp of air. His cheeks began to burn with shame at the slightly concerned look Odin was displaying. He let his gaze fall respectfully, hoping he had not angered the Allfather terribly.

"Yes…yes, I'm fine."

"Your conduct would suggest otherwise." Odin stated, removing his hand from his adoptive child's shoulder.

Loki's head bowed further in humiliation, berating himself because of his reaction to contact with his father. It had been a very long time since his last personal encounter with the Allfather and he found himself stumbling uncertainly and left insecure by it.

"I am well." He said, his voice nearly a whisper.

The King's face became impassive once more, but Loki had the feeling that he did not believe the claim he had made.

"Then you should know that tomorrow morning the mind healer, Sylire, will be expecting you." Odin waved for his dark son to follow him to the desk, motioning for him to sit. Loki did so, his attention ever on his father as he too took his seat. "Determining the cause of your actions is vital, you know this do you not?"

"I do." The prince lowered his eyes, casting them to his feet.

The emotions Loki found himself battling to keep dormant began hollering inside his skull and banging at his heart for freedom. He felt mortified and completely subject to the man before him, a man who could take everything he had away with a mere word. This was a mercy, trying to discover the core of Loki's causes and desires that led him to betrayal and destruction. No doubt it had been Frigga who saw to these conditions, trying to ease the stones Odin set in place.

"And your Moth-has Frigga has told you of your boundaries?"

Loki fidgeted, swallowing thickly in his throat. He had not missed the subtle correction if wording Odin had used. It spoke volumes.

"Yes, sir." He stated softly. "She also informed me of my other restrictions."

"Including that involving Thor?" Odin asked, leaning back in his chair as he openly scrutinized his adoptive son. It was yet another thing the younger prince knew well. "You own him reconciliation for the harm and lies you wove for him, Loki. It is for him to decide the terms of payment in that regard, as you thought to do so to him. I expect you to go to him inquiring the nature of his desired justice. Also…"

He paused, causing Loki to fidget against his will.

"My King?"

He hated how his voice shook, unsteady and quivering past his lips.

A blatant difference to the clarity of the Allfather's own speech.

"You are to serve Asgard with what talents you have offer." Odin finished gravely, features as stoic as ever. "This realm may not be that place of your birth, but it has hosted and sheltered you for countless years. The chaos and destruction you cast here was unwarranted and caused much harm among my subjects. Therefore I shall be assigning you tasks, those who desire my aid but have no weight against political movements."

Ah, so a lenient form of slavery was to be burned upon his existence as well. That…was to be expected he supposed. Releasing him from his condemned imprisonment below Asgard's floors was a crucial move to make, effecting the whole of the current justice system in a violent backlash in cries for repayment. Loki, regardless if he had been forced or not, still bore some responsibility to those who had perished in his crazed and pointless attack upon Midgard. He was ultimately a criminal supposed to be serving a strict sentence, not gaining pity and grace from his Queen Mother simply for be her son. Rank was no hindrance to true justice and in one way or another, Odin would see that he paid over her due amount of suffering in exchange for his damages.

Of course, while Loki could not even look upon his actions upon Midgard without birthing the emotions of desperation and fear he felt at that time, he did not believe himself to be entirely innocent. If only he had been stronger, better, more resilient against the constant torment inflicted upon his person he may have resisted the control and none would have perished due to his failure.

If only he had been more like Thor.

All would have ended well then and Odin would be pleased now, rather than setting lines and destinations for his disappointment of his adopted and foolish jotun-son.

"I-I understand." He breathed out, looking down at his lap where his hands had curled into tight fists. "Is that all, my Lord?"

"No." The Allfather let silence pass between them for a few moments, as if contemplating how to form his next words in a careful fashion.

The anticipation burned Loki's heart as he caught the look in Odin's eye, blatant and unguarded.

Disgust.

A shattered heart broke further, leaving but fractures so small, it was much like dust.

"You are forbidden from seeing Queen Frigga without supervision. For while I believe my wife's words on the choices you made and the deeds you suffered in her name, I will not have you manipulate her towards your freedom." The old man leaned forward, ignoring the teary shine his Loki's eyes. "You are a prisoner still, though granted more leave than most. If you tempt my set boundaries I will see your being punished with severity. You understand?"

Panic laid its teeth viciously into Loki's soul, tearing it cruelly as his lifeblood spilled and his screams clutched at the air of his mind. To be barred from she who was his foundation in his turmoil? No. Loki would be unable to yield to such a request. Frigga was his mother, the tender core of his being and the reason for his survival. She held him, just by her spirit alone, from relapsing into the mindless state of raw fear and agony that would course in memory through his weakened form.

To take away his pillar and leave him abandoned for the duration of his long sentence? It would prove to be unbearable for him.

Do not keep my mother from me!

"I….I will obey your commands..." Loki trembled, forcing his head up and his emerald eyes to meet the old ones of his once-father, a plea clear in his features. "But please…I, I cannot see the harm in…"

He stopped.

No, no he did see the harm in allowing him, naught but a Jotun runt, to converse with Frigga, though it was hardly on the ground Odin believed it to be. During their time with Malekith, the Queen had only sought to help him through his troubles, displaying open love and affection for his unworthy self. His mother had wished for him to feel special, because in some sort of false joy, she felt that he was.

But Loki, despite the rumors of him, was not delusional….at least, no longer in that way.

Though it would pain him, drive him to his knees in sorrow and force him to take solace in the familiar silence of his existence rather than seek out the Queen in want for love, assurance, Loki could not bring himself to want to sully her with his presence.

"None shall ever find you worthy!"

A scream, a plea, a want for release….

"And you should not seek to force such foul desires upon others!"

The memory was instantly blocked and a shaky sigh left Loki's lips, his eyes closed tightly and his hands clenched into white fists.

"No Loki."

His shoulders fell, surrendering himself to the fate he had no choice but to take.

"I….I understand Allfather….and I shall endeavor to follow your sentence."

Odin nodded, standing, Loki scrambling to follow the action so as not to appear disrespectful.

"Very well. Report to Sylire in the morning." He waved his hand as a signal for Loki to depart.

The second prince nodded, moving swiftly while trying not to make it blatantly obvious that he no longer desired to be in the same vicinity as his once-father. However, it was just as he was turning the glass knob when the Allfather's voice sounded once more, stilling his rapid movements instantly.

"Know that your future will be determined by the Master Healer's experienced opinion." Loki tightened his grip on the knob, its decorative edges digging into his palm. "It is meant to aid you into clearity yes, but also to allow me to understand you. If threat to the Nine Realms or Asgard is found, I shall deal with it appropriately, as is expected."

If you turn against us, I will spare you no pain and death will be the outcome.

"I would anticipate nothing less, Allfather."

And with that he left, mourning his future, dead to his past and so very, very lost within his own soul, burning for things he had lost, things he would never, ever have.

"Terror, prince? Why weep you for those who care not? I assure you that even if you were to return, they're rejection will balance with abuse and their tolerance with hate. Your future is empty, just as flesh is cold. Scream, Jotun, but cry not for that which you never had."

But cry he did. For a Mother, for a Father and for a Brother who, despite everything, he would always love.

And though it hurt him, it mattered little if that love was returned.