Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Alone in a white blank prison was Loki, the golden barrier shedding light on his curled form. He sat with his head resting gently on his knees, pondering the event that led him to the monotone prison he now was doomed to spend eternity in.

His crusade to Midgard had landed him here and had been the final straw in his father's love towards him. If Loki could even call Odin a father anymore, that is, after finding out about his Frost Giant heritage he wasn’t so sure anymore.

Maybe that is why the Mad Titan had taken a liking to him, why Loki had become another one of his children.

Oh well, Loki figured it didn’t matter much anymore anyway, seeing as he would waste away in here. Even the Mad Titan finding him might be a mercy in a way, because at least eternity wouldn’t be so long.

That is if He didn’t torture him.

Still, nothing to do but wait. He picked at the brown canvas shirt sleeve that went down to his wrist, it was part of the outfit he had received upon his arrival. The pants, as plain as the shirt, were nothing like the extravagant leather and gold ensembles that he was used to.

Not that anyone truly saw what Loki was wearing, that’d be an indignity in itself, he may be a fallen prince but he was still a prince. If anyone looked into his cell he’d be wearing his usual leather and gold. Thank the Norns that his Seiðr still worked in this vacant Hel, which was about the only thing the Norns had ever done for him.

He knew now if anyone saw him, the true him that is, they would not even know it was him. His body had become emaciated since his time under the Titan and if he really wanted to, he could count his own ribs.

Not that he wanted to of course, as it was a rather disturbing thought.

That of course led him to his main problem down here (and with Him), food. The guards outside his cell had yet to bring any, despite having been here two days already.

Normally that would be fine Asgardians, and Frost Giants apparently, could last extended periods without food. Two days was not fun but ultimately not deadly.

Loki, however, had not eaten in two months, which Loki figures would be bad enough if he wasn’t injured on top of it. Head throbbing, hands shaky, definitely unhealed wounds on his back, and maybe a break on one of his ribs. All of which would heal eventually, especially with the help of his Seiðr, but more slowly without food providing him the nutrients he needed to heal.

His frivolous use of Seiðr most likely was not helping as well, as it was drained already. His Seiðr, however, couldn’t heal either if his body was fighting to stay alive, let alone have enough energy to use for mass amounts of Seiðr.

Which led him back to his original problem.

He was hungry, starving if he was being honest with himself, which he refused to be. Hel he’d probably look like Thor eating if he ever got his hands on food. Maybe even Volstagg.

He shivered, now that was a terrifying thought.

Loki sighed and leaned his aching back and neck against the blank wall, already bored to death, in pain, longing for food he could not get, and certainly not looking to sleep as he knew what awaited him in his dreams.

It would still be better than the almost complete nothing that surrounded him, and that he felt within himself.

Weighing his options he decided sleep might be the lesser evil of nothing, thinking about his hunger, or sleep. Shakily he stood, and his vision blacked out temporarily while doing so, presumably from the lack of food, or the pain from his numerous injuries. It took a few too many shaky steps for his liking to reach the plank-like bed that now awaited him, but he did get there in the end.

Laying down he closed his eyes, hoping childishly, and fruitlessly he knew that somehow this was all a bad dream.

It was not.

Chapter Text

Nothing

and
nothing.

Nothing surrounded him until it didn’t. Until sharp rocks pierced through him.

Somehow he was alive.

Why?

Hazy, he woke up again. Still alive and bandaged now. Who was his saviour?

The
Titan
Was
No
Saviour.

Now he only knew a dark, blisteringly hot cell. He’d think it the void if not for the heat.

He wished it was the void.

His blood painted
the walls.

The Titan was still not satisfied, he wanted more, he wanted loyalty.

He wanted a son.

Loki was so tired and the Mind Stone seeped through every crack in his defenses.

Father (The Mad Titan?).
Was (Help).
Right (NO).

Midgard, he would rule over it and make Thor pay, as was his birthright.

His glorious purpose.

He had to succeed. He had to succeed. He had to succeed. He had to succeed. He had to succeed. He had to succeed.

He had to succeed.

“No realm, no barren moon, no crevice where he cannot find you.”

Trapped. He was trapped. There but not, anger that was his and someone else's.

Thor?

Odin?

Mother?

It was too late.

He failed, the Titan would ensure his death.

As He promised before, slow and painful.
The torture would return, He would return.

“He will make you long for something as sweet as pain.”

Loki rose quickly, his breathing was erratic, and with every pound of his heart felt as if it had leapt from his chest.

Loki knew it was only a matter of time until He came after him. Despite Loki’s earlier words, he was terrified of being found. For he knew someday the Titan would come to Asgard and He would take half of its citizens, it was inevitable. Even with Asgard's powerful defenses, the Mad Titan would get through eventually. Then the Titan would take Thor, and Mother, and even Odin, to ensure Loki knew their deaths had been his fault. Only then would Loki be allowed to die.

While Loki may deny it their deaths would destroy him and the Mad Titan knew that. He had been in his head after all, and had been to every dark corner of Loki’s mind. The corners even Loki refused to look at.

The Titan knew everything about Loki.

He let out a shaky breath.

Loki sent a Seiðr double to pace around his cell, if only to allow himself a few minutes of time unwatched. Exhaustedly he leaned his back against the wall.

Of course at that moment his double faltered before completely disappearing. All that was left now was the illusion he had over himself. It seemed his Seiðr had finally reached its breaking point, which likely meant his body wasn’t too far behind.

The two, he had learned at a young age, were intrinsically tied. If one was failing, it had to mean the other would be too. Most likely followed by death and as much as he did not want to die, maybe it would be a far more merciful death than the Titan had in store for him. Death from starvation and other maladies would not be fun in the slightest, and it would likely drag on at most a month more, but it would be nothing compared to what the Titan would do to him.

He briefly allowed his eyes to close in a moment of weakness before forcing them to open. He had to at least pretend he was fine, he still had his glamour after all, and he wanted to save whatever dignity he still had. Loki straightened his back and plastered a bored expression to his face.

Carefully he placed his hands behind his head in a relaxed position, in reality he had done so in order to hide the shaking that had gripped them the past few hours (days?).

He stayed like that for what felt like twenty hours, in reality it had probably been twenty minutes. That's when the guards had entered for the first time since his imprisonment.

“Well, hello there” Loki purred in a, hopefully, steady voice “finally decided to come and see me? I’m honored.”

The guards stayed stony faced, only exchanging a quick glance before quickly grabbing Loki’s wrist from behind his head and snapping cuffs with a chain on them. He felt the little of his Seiðr left abruptly close off.

He knew now the scars and bruising would be visible, along with the horrendous ill-fitting prison garments. The guards didn’t seem to care.

Loki sputtered trying to not sound panicked “What are you doing? Do you not know who I am you two half witted-”

One of the guards finally spoke “The fallen prince of Asgard? Yes we are aware.”

Loki’s mouth snapped shut, and he watched as a small smirk grew on the other guard's face. Before he could say anything else the two yanked him to his feet, and he stumbled forward unable to right himself due to the pain radiating from his left ankle. Loki attempted to stand straight, doing his best to ignore the burning pain in his ankle, but it was all for naught as the guards began to walk.

They had left the cell and started up the dungeon stairs when Loki finally spoke.

“Would you slow down?” He snarled, trying his best to sound commanding and not tired as he truly felt.

“Feeling weak, Fallen Prince?” The same guard who had mocked him earlier said, while maintaining pace.

Loki snarled again, still trying to keep up but failing as his ankle hit against each stair step, he could barely hide the grimace of pain by the time they got up the stairs. The walk to the throne room, which Loki knew could be their only destination, was the single longest and shortest walk he had experienced in his long lifetime. The dread and pain mixed together, warping time to their will.

Yet they had arrived, finally, to the golden throne of Asgard; upon the throne was father- Odin, who looked coldly down at Loki. Taking in his surroundings, Loki also noticed his mother stood off to the left of the throne, holding her hand to her mouth in shock. Her eyes shone with tears and Loki had to force himself to look away from her.

When they had gotten to the middle of the room, the guards threw Loki down, which was both a humiliation and a blessing for at least his ankle could finally rest. He remained facing toward the floor, not gracing Odin with his attention.

“Loki” Odin spoke, his voice rang throughout the room “Loki, you are to look at me when I speak to you.”

He knew how this would end, an eternity in the dungeons as he had predicted or a death sentence. Loki would never be believed even if he allowed the indignity of the truth to spill out, which he would not.

If he was to be the villain, he would at least be a convincing one.

Expertly he bit down hard on the inside of his mouth. Finally he looked up at Odin with bloodied teeth and a sharp smile.

“Yes, my King” Loki let his true displeasure bleed into the words, literally, and they came out mocking and cruel.

Meeting his eyes Odin looked disgusted with him and, despite himself, Loki dared a glance at his mother.

Her face was saddened, as was the way she held herself. Loki faltered before looking up to Odin once again.

“If I am for the axe” he paused for dramatic effect “then just swing it already, or will you spare a monster yet again, ’O Merciful King.”

“Enough of your mockery Loki” Odin retorted harshly “We are here for your crimes against Midgard and Jotunheim."

“And when did you begin caring for those beasts?” Loki hissed, not clarifying which species he had been talking about.

Odin ignored his words, as Loki expected, and continued “Asgard has found you guilty and for this you must be punished.”

Loki scoffed trying to quell the rising nausea in his stomach as he spoke his next words “Guilty of trying to rule? As was my birthright?”

”I never wanted the throne! I only ever wanted to be your equal!”

“Your birthright!” Odin roared “Was to die as a child, cast out on a frozen rock. You would be dead without my interference.”

Loki pulled on his chains from his kneeling position as he snarled “Then you should have left me, as here I am awaiting death anyway.”

Odin’s expression turned steely “You misunderstand me, thanks to Frigga you will live.”

Loki’s heart sank, it seemed starvation would be the way he died, not glorious, a pathetic death, one befitting him he supposed. He glanced over to mother, who still looked as if she wanted to rush over to him.

“So I am to live the rest of my days in the dungeon then?” Loki tried to put confidence in the words that he did not feel.

“No,” Odin smiled coldly. “To pay reparations for what you have done on Midgard, you will live there with the ones who defeated you, magic locked away.”

If the nausea he felt before was bad this was worse, and for a minute he feared he would throw up on the throne room floor.

Not that anything but bile would come up anyway.

“That is a death sentence in itself, and you know it!” Loki accused, trying to keep the bile in his throat under control.

Odin said nothing, so Loki turned toward his mother.

“All you do is postpone my death, the axe would be a greater mercy” He argued, now desperately looking at his mother.

“Darling-” his mother started sadly, but Odin cut across her “She cannot help you now Loki, your fate has been decided.”

Odin hit Gungnir on the ground, before rising and saying “take him to Heimdall.”

The guards pulled him up by the chains before dragging him behind them once again. All the energy he once had in trying to maintain his dignity fell away and he allowed himself to be dragged, taking a little satisfaction that the guards would have to work harder.

The only silver lining in this situation was the fact that the Mad Titan at the very least would not get the satisfaction of killing him, or of torturing him again.

He would undoubtedly die, but he liked to imagine the Avengers wouldn’t be much into torture. At the very least, not as the Mad Titan was. Maybe he was feeding into an unrealistic fantasy, but he didn’t have it in him to care.

The guards stopped abruptly, before one tugged Loki up by his shirt.

“Walk, or be prepared to face the consequences” the guard asserted.

“Oh my, what ever shall I do if-” Loki began to mock but was stopped as he was roughly tossed to the ground.

His ankle twinged painfully, as he stayed crumpled on the floor, maybe the guards would just finish it before anyone else could.

Loki had no such luck, of course.

The chains pulled him upright, and to avoid another painful meeting with the floor, Loki put his energy back into walking. At least the best facsimile of walking he could muster.

If the walk to the throne room had been bad, the one to the Bifrost was five times worse. Not only was the distance much greater, but his already broken down body was being forced to move when it barely had the energy to function.

They had, however, eventually arrived at the Bifrost. Awaiting him was Thor, with that horrible kicked dog expression he always had, and Heimdall stoic as ever.

“I can take it from here” Thor told the guards, gesturing for Loki’s chains.

They acquiesced readily and handed them over to Thor before leaving the Bifrost. Thor looked away from Loki.

“Won’t even spare me a glance now, brother?” Loki said venomously.

Thor didn’t respond, and quickly slapped the muzzle from after the battle on him once again. Loki didn’t panic, at least not outwardly, and made a noise of contempt at Thor.

Loki knew this would be how he would die, likely how he always would have died, Seiðrless, bound, and muzzled like a monster. Fitting.

“I wish things were different brother” Was all Thor said before gesturing to Heimdall.

“We are ready now, Heimdall,” Thor said.

Heimdal gazed at them both, allowing his eyes to sweep over Loki in the way he always hated, like he could see through all of Loki’s barriers.

“Very well” Heimdall replied stoically before turning the sword and opening the Bifrost.

Bile rose to Loki’s throat, threatening to finally spill out. His joints felt as if they were slowly being ripped out of their sockets.

The very last thing Loki registered as his vision was spotted with darkness was the blinding pain ripping through his body.

Then, embarrassingly, he passed out.