A/N: Why hello! So this is my first time attempting a fanfic, hope you like it. If you do or don't like it let me know. The feedback would be very appreciated.
"Before we begin, do you have anything to say for yourself?" asked the Allfather critically.
Everyone turned to look at the chained figure standing front and center in the throne room. The man in question stared up at the Allfather intently, but gave no indication that he intended to speak. Odin arched a brow and a flicker of emotion crossed his features. It was so swift that no one caught it. No one but the prisoner and Thor, who stood a little off to the side. It was a mixture of disappointment and something else… sadness or maybe anger perhaps? Neither the golden son nor the prisoner could tell for his features quickly returned to a bleak, stoic expression.
"Very well. Let the trial begin!" said Odin with an authoritative slam of his staff on the dais floor. Everyone turned their attention to him, all except the prisoner, who ran his eyes over those who were there. The man's gaze lingered on Frigga. It was obvious that she had been crying earlier but was under control for the most part, her jaw set and a determined look on her face. Only the slightest quiver of her bottom lip gave away the distraught she felt. Her eyes met his and her stoney expression melted away into a softer mournful one, an expression that the prisoner could not bare to look at. He quickly averted his gaze to the floor.
"…Do recognize that these are the charges against you Loki, God of Chaos?" asked Odin bringing Loki's attention back to the trial. The younger man gave his not-father a curt nod. "Then we will present the accounts of Lady Sif, Grim, Fandrall, and Volstagg, who were present during your reign as king." The four demigods stepped forward and Sif was the first to offer her account of Loki's reign of terror.
Funny that I used to think these imbeciles my friends. I suppose that makes me the greater fool here, Loki thought, not-so-bitterly. In fact he was resigned to the reality that he did not belong. There were some points within Sif's testimony where he wanted to speak out against her, but restrained himself. He understood with disillusioned clarity that no one would believe him. That was the way he needed it to be.
After Grim's account he discontinued listening and scanned the occupants of the throne room once more. There weren't a lot of people there. Odin had wanted to keep Loki's trail a private affair. Why for, the green-eyed god couldn't say, and didn't really want to theorize possibilities over the matter. In attendance were the main gods and goddesses that made up the Allfather's council, except for Heimdall. His absence was not missed by Odin or the other gods. From what Loki could gather, the gatekeeper -if one could call him that anymore since the Bifrost was broken- had requested to not speak at his trail. Of course with the evidence against him being so overwhelming, he supposed Odin thought it couldn't hurt for him to be absent.
That was good. The lack of Heimdall's presence relieved him a great deal. For the all-seeing god knew the true nature of how things were and those facts could not come into light right then. It would cause a great deal of inconvenience.
"Now the testimony of Thor will be presented." Odin's voice snapped Loki out of his internal musings. He risked a glance at the man he once called 'brother'. To anyone one who didn't know the god of thunder, they would have said he looked nervous. For those who did know Thor, knew that great pain would be inflicted upon who ever dared to point that out. Loki almost wanted to grin. What was it his brother had said to him just before his almost coronation?
That was not nerves brother, that was the rage of battle.
Thor opened his mouth as if to speak but no sound came out. It was rather anticlimactic in Loki's opinion, but then again his opinion never counted for much. The blue eyed god looked over at him. He raised a brow in response as if daring the golden son of Odin. What the trickster was daring him to do exactly was unclear to the both of them.
"Loki…is my brother and always will be," said Thor after a long baited silence. Loki was tempted to roll his eyes. Sentiment it was always sentiment his not brother. "Having said that, I cannot deny that it was he who I fought on the Bifrost and who I faced again on Midgard." The demigod's voice conveyed a sense of resigned finality.
And that's it, isn't it, brother? So much for sentiment. Loki tried to ignore the unpleasant way his heart twisted. No matter how much he willed for it; no amount of time or distance could undo his deeply rooted desire to be loved. To have what his brother so blatantly took for granted all of his life. Thor had no idea how much it hurt when their -Thor's- friends came to him and ask for the release of his exile. Even though Thor was wrong. And it hurt then as it does now because the not-Asgardian knew if it was him no one would be so loyal. He let out a barely noticeable sigh, that's what he got for being a trickster he supposed.
The green-eyed god was suddenly aware everyone was looking at him and the mood of the throne room had the air of expectancy. They were giving him another opportunity to speak. He almost broke out into a fit of laughter. Loki knew, just as everyone else in to room did, that anything he said would either be the confession they wanted or a finely spun tale to try and get himself out of prison. They wanted him to admit he was the horrible monster they deemed him to be, and how he ached to prove them wrong. He never liked it when people thought they knew more about him than him.
Just as he was seriously considering revealing the truth, a flicker of movement caught his eye. It was nothing conspicuous, a slight shift from one of the guards standing along the wall. Anyone else would have thought nothing of it but from his peripherals Loki caught the blue marking on the guards neck. A dart of fear and anticipation pierced his chest and began to plague his whole person. So they're still watching. He looked to his brother, fear melted into burning resolution.
Loki said nothing.
No, not a single word was uttered from his mouth and the longer the audience waited, the more uncomfortable his silence became. In all of his years as king of Asgard, Odin could honestly say that this was a new experience. Many people had come into this chamber to be tried of whatever grievous sin they committed. Some begged and pleaded, some taunted him with the success of their crime, others cursed he and his whole house, and there were a rare few that were found to be innocent. But they all had something to say and they said it until they no longer had the energy to speak. Never has the Allfather met an accused who stayed silent. It made him wonder, not for the first time since Loki fell through the wormhole, if all he heard during his Odin sleep was reality, or if some crafty magic deluded his memories.
"Since your demeanor has made it clear that you do not intend to defend yourself. The trial has come to an end and I have made my decision as to how you will be punished," said the Allfather, as he slowly descended from the dais towards his adopted son. "Loki you are here by condemned to live in a solitary cell in Muspelheim, where you will be at the mercy of the Fire Giants. For trying to wipe out the Jotun race, and for your attempt to subjugate Midgard. For the lives that you have taken and for the great many more lives you have caused unparalleled despair." This isn't right, Odin's instinct told him. Leaving him with an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach. No matter how he felt, laws were laws and so he pushed forward. "But because the Bifrost is broken, Heimdall will have to use the tesseract as a way of transporting you there. Until this can be arranged you will be bound and placed in a holding cell here in Asgard. That is my judgment."
Odin slammed his long staff against the floor standing directly in front of Loki. They held each others gaze. One searching for any kind of clue as to the the other's motives; the other with a look of hollow resignation. The elder man wished to reach out to his misguided son, but could not bring himself to do so. Hubris had always been his plague, a plague he clearly saw was passed down to his son.
A company of eight or so guards surrounded him, but Loki only cared about one of them; the man with the mark on his neck. He flanked the condemned god on the left and marched in sync with the other guards. Loki knew there wasn't much time before they reached the dungeons. The want to act out now was never more tempting the closer they approached the platform that would teleport them all to his prison. But Loki wasn't Thor and refrained from acting on impulse, instead he took a deep breath to organize his thoughts and started to plan.
I wont reach Muspelheim if I'm at the mercy of this fiend, Father. Loki silently cursed, his bindings inhibited both movement and his magic. They had come to the holding cell and he had no plan. He entered the cell with a sickening sense of dread at the pit of his stomach. It was a fairly spacious cell, the walls were crudely carved out and jagged. The demigod just knew the pseudo guard would have a pleasant time throwing him against them. There were no windows and only one entrance, which the guards had shut. A small orb was the only light, leaving Loki alone in the shadows.
The blow connected with his ribs with a sickening crack. He wished to cry out in pain but the spell placed on him kept him from making a sound. Before he could steady himself there was a three-fingered hand wrapped around his neck. He tried valiantly to pry the hand from his neck but to no avail. The assailant's poisoned covered skin was taking its toll. The trickster's vision was going black and he could feel life beginning to slip away from him.
"This is what becomes of those who fail the Chitauri," it hissed, holding Loki up so that his feet were no longer touching the ground. The latter was sure those would be the last words he would ever hear and slipped away into nothingness. The alien let out a hiss that could have been a laugh. Unfortunately his mirth was short lived as he found his head cut off.