Chapter Text
RUNES:
Uruz: Physical power, independence, persistence, life force, survival
Isa: Self control, focus, and the path to identity
Fehu: Luck, new beginnings, initial conditions
Wunjo: Hope, fellowship, perfection, friendship, kindred, harmony.
Algz: Protection, warding off evil, guardian
The ill-gotten golden walls of Asgard's throne room glittered and flickered in the light of the crackling fire-bowls. The firelight wasn't necessary at all, as it was only around mid-day. The halls were almost silent, chain rattles and light footsteps approaching the glowing throne of the Allfather. The sentries had a man, tall, slim, measly, mischievous; Loki, God of Mischief, Prince of Asgard.
This wasn't the first time he'd ended up in chains, in the realm and castle that he had once called his home. Being locked up like this was almost beginning to feel home-y, possibly even comfortable.
“Loki,” his mother, Frigga, said once she saw him. Her tone seemed laced with worry and concern, but also had an undertone of annoyance or disappointment. Whichever it was, there wasn't enough time for him to find out.
”Hello Mother,” he smiled at her, “Have I made you proud?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm and arrogance, the exact opposite of how she'd spoken.
”Please, don't make this worse,” she pleaded with him, but she didn't get a very serious response even in this serious situation.
“Define 'worse,'” Loki chuckled a little, raising an eyebrow lightly.
“Enough,” the Allfather berated, interrupting this obviously 'sentimental' Mother-Son heart-to-heart, “I will speak to the prisoner alone.”
Frigga nodded once, giving her son a last glance before she left the throne room. Loki looked at her for a moment, but swiftly turned to face the Asgardian King. He took a step forward, clanging the two cuffs around his ankles together. The sound of the strong metal echoed through the quiet corridors, interrupting the crackling of the fire-bowls nearby.
”I really don't see what all the fuss is about. Midguardians are the least valuable and most troublesome in the Nine Realms that you watch over,” the prisoner chortled, adjusting his posture so his shoulders weren't slumped.
“Then perhaps you should consider yourself a Midguardian, if that's how you feel about them,” Odin says, “Do you truly not see the gravity of your crimes?”
“It was only a few small lives,” Loki testified, “I only went to rule over them like a benevolent god, just as you did,” his lips contorted into some sort of twisted smile.
“Benevolent?” the Allfather almost laughed, “You are the opposite. Wherever you go there is war, ruin. Malevolent is the word you're looking for.”
Loki sneered at this, taking a step back, “Well I assure you, I'll never do it again,” he clasped his hands in a praying fashion. His actions seemed passive, but his eyes glimmered with transgression.
“You must think me a fool,” Odin retorted, not fooled by the actions of the trouble-maker.
“You've read my mind,” the lesser god snickered, leaving the room in a momentary silence.
“All of this because Loki desires a throne,” the Allfather sighed.
The prisoner's face seemed to harden, his smirk disappearing. “It is my birthright,” he declared, moving his hands to his sides as his tone got more serious.
“Your birthright was to die!” Odin bellowed, leaning forward, “..as a child. Cast out onto a frozen rock. If I had not taken you in, you would not be here now to hate me.”
Loki paused for only a moment, not letting his hesitation show through his usual careless and arrogant demeanor. “If I am for the ax, then for mercy's sake, just swing it,” he took a step forward, watching Odin lean back into the golden throne, “It's not that I don't love our little talks, it's just... I don't love them.”
“Frigga is the only reason you are still alive, and you will never see her again. Not while you still act like a child,” the King spoke, almost too calm in the current situation.
“I don't know if you've noticed, but the dungeons are only about a four minute walk from the quarters,” the prince tittered.
“You will not be put in the dungeons, Loki. You will be exiled until you can prove yourself more mature,” Odin proclaimed. The guards pushed the Jötun forward, slightly off-putting his balance. Loki grumbled something under his breath in Old Norse, straightening himself out once more.
“Where to? I love a nice non-consensual vacation. Also, how do you plan on keeping me out?” He asks egocentrically.
“Tell me, have you heard of my nine days in Yggdrasil?” the Allfather asks.
“I remember it as well as I remember Thor pretending to be Freya, yes,” Loki leered, recalling the amusing memory.
Odin exhaled in annoyance, tired of hearing the voice of his adopted son, “I became a vessel for magick, which means I can cast it at will. On anyone I please.”
Loki seemed to hesitate his response for an instant, having to think through his actions for the first time in a while. “I thought the house of Odin was a house of warriors. I was never allowed to practice my magick, and neither was Frigga. And yet, there you sit, a king who is a living magick vessel. Were you simply afraid of those born with magick in their veins or were you truly so selfish that you wanted to be the most powerful?” He ridiculed the king, “I had to teach myself, after all. Yet, you trust Karnilla and Amora without a second thought.”
“That is because wherever you go, your magick brings chaos and destruction. You are nothing but a bringer of harm. That is the reason you are being exiled, do not try to change the subject, Laufeyson.” Odin denigrated, making a loose gesture with his hand for the guards to grab the prince's chained arms and hold them forward.
Loki grunted at this, his eyebrows furrowing in annoyance and distaste as he was handled so brutishly by these mere servants. He let his anger about the situation consume his current mindstate, and how the man who 'raised' him didn't even address him as a son.
“You will no longer be allowed in Asgard, or any of the other realms you can think of. You'll be fortunate enough to still be able to use the Allspeak, depending on where you end up,” Odin spoke, adjusting his staff in his hand as the guards kept Loki's arms presented to him.
“Depending?” Loki inquired, “You have no destination in mind? You'll simply throw me out into one of the Nine Realms and hope I survive?”
“You will not be cast into one of the Nine Realms. I cannot place you somewhere you are familiar, like Alfheim or the remains of Jötunnheim after you attempted to erase its existence,” the King grumbled towards the end.
Thanks to Loki's attempt on Jötunnheim, the Bifrost had been destroyed entirely. It had taken much effort to rebuild the bridge. Well, no effort from Odin, of course. It was simply an inconvenience to him, which was enough to aggravate him more than it aggravated those who had to help rebuild it.
“You're sending me to a death trap,” the prince said, feigning a chuckle, “and you expect me to just stand here and accept it?”
“I don’t expect you to do anything, other than fail. You pride yourself on winning and taking over, but you’ve done nothing but lose ever since Thor’s coronation. Where were you in that time after you decided to let go and fall into space and time before you finally decided to make an appearance after being gone?” Odin questioned.
Loki made a face of indignancy, staying silent as he recalled some sort of memory that caused him to break a sweat; the drop went down from his forehead to his jaw, dripping onto the cold stone flooring. After getting no response from the prisoner, Odin decided it was time to begin this banishment. A glowing gold aura wrapped around Loki’s presented forearms, catching him by surprise.
“What do you think you’re d-” his indictment was interrupted by a sharp pain coming from the flowing magick. It felt like he was being cut, or even burnt. His hands shook lightly as the pain only increased, causing a heavy breath to leave his mouth. He tried to use his magick against Odin’s, but was stopped. Something else was wrong. He couldn’t even feel his magick in his body anymore. No, no, no, you can’t do this, the prince thought frantically as he started to recognize the shape of what the burning feeling was creating.
Runes. Some of them weren’t concerning, but the rune draining his magick was the one he was the most worried about. When the gold layer cleared, he could see his skin again. It was fading to blue, along with the rest of him. On his right forearm, there were three marks that were irritated to the point of almost being a branding; Uruz, Fehu, and Wunjo. On the other, there were two large markings of the runes Algz and Isa.
The pain did not subside as he felt his body grow more cold.
“So this is how I will be treated? Cast out, weak, magickless?” Loki scolded, looking at the king with his now red eyes.
“If you needed your magick to be strong, then you didn’t deserve it in the first place,” Odin responded, almost too calm in this situation.
“‘Didn’t deserve it’? I was born with it. It chose me to be the host,” Loki griped, “You gave away so much when you could have used what was at your disposal. If I wasn’t to use my magick, I wouldn’t have been born with it.”
“Enough! I have heard enough of your constant complaining for the last thousand-and-fifty-four years. You will go and learn to become better, or you will perish in the process of giving up as you always do.” the king gestured to the guards, who pulled Loki’s arms back and prepared to send him off. Loki chuckled lightly and stepped back,
“And what of Thor? Has he not caused trouble as well? You still wish to make him king?”
Odin sat back in his over-sized throne, “He will rule better than I, and better than you ever would be able to.”
Before the prisoner could get another word in, his mouth was covered by a restraint to keep him silent. The sentries took him through the paths to the Bifrost, where they were greeted by Heimdall.
“Guards,” He nodded them a greeting, “My prince,” he gave a small sort of head bow to Loki, who didn’t have a response for him.
“Thor will be returning in a few minutes, do you not wish for them to see each other before he is off?” Heimdall asked one of the guards.
“The king wishes for him to be banished now. He is no longer a prince, just a prisoner to be cast away,” the sentry responded.
Heimdall gave a stiff nod, grabbing the sword for the Bifrost. Loki was placed to be pulled away once it was turned on. He looked at Heimdall for a moment, before the bridge was turned on and he was pulled through. It was a few silent moments in the Bifrost before he heard a familiar voice.
“Loki?!” Thor called, coming through the opposite end. The prisoner did his best to move out the way, but hurtled into his brother and fell through the rainbow bridge before he could be grabbed. He could hear Thor yell something, but couldn’t figure out what. He felt sleepy all of a sudden, careening through space. His consciousness fell, and his body retracted into a temporary resting state, the colors of the galaxies and worlds shining over his eyelids.
End Chapter One.