Unknown Fate Sewn

Summary: As punishment for his crimes, Loki's lips are sewn shut. But the God of Mischief cannot stand Asgard or its tormenting inhabitants for long and, with his brother, leaves the realm. They end up back on Midgard with The Avengers and the broken bond of Loki and Thor slowly begins to heal.

Warnings: I guess some graphic scenes? Little swearing, probably ooc, maybe character death. Maybe… ;D

Pairings: None, though if you want, you could view it as Thor/Loki, Loki/Thor. Thorki. XD

Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers, Thor, or Loki. Sadly. By the gods, I want to own Loki. Or him own me. If ya know what I mean. ;D

XxxxX

He honestly didn't know what he did to deserve this. He was a nice guy, right? He helped others when they needed it, even if it meant clearing his schedule on his day of relaxation, and helped keep the world somewhat free from super-villan crimes. Yes, he was a good guy. So why did this have to happen to him? Steve felt like he was three inches tall and wished he could just slink away and hide in the shadows. It would be so much better than the stares he was getting at the moment, from civilians, enemies, and comrades.

His usual blue suit was now a pink, and the stripes white and green. His hood had bunny ears glued to the top of it and a fuzzy rabbit tail was glued to the lower part of his suit. The star that was on his chest had been replaced by the Playboy sign. And his shield? His shield read, in large, glittery words, "Steve Rogers, Barbie Playboy Bunny." He stood tall, ready to fight; though, at the moment, all he really wanted to do was disappear. He could practically feel Tony's eyes staring at him through that iron mask and he could feel what little dignity he had left slowly slipping away into the cracks that lined the battered street. Even Hawkeye and Natasha couldn't look away. Thor was openly gawking, which didn't help Roger's current frame of mind at all, and looked as if he was on the verge of wanting to burst into laughter. "Steve…" His eyes landed on that all too familiar iron suit and he could only imagine what the genius's expression was like. "What the hell are you wearing?"

Oh yes, Loki had really outdone himself this time.

XxxxX
Five months earlier
XxxxX

He had been defeated. Defeated by mere humans. The thought was bitter on his mind and he would have snarled in anger if not for the muzzle that was clamped over his mouth. But he gave himself a little leeway; they weren't completely human. At least three of them had been altered in some scientific way. Still, the thought did not sit well with him and he was, to say the least, humiliated with his failure. The shackles around his wrists were yanked and he sent a glare at the guard escorting him. The cuffs were inlined with tiny, razor-sharp blades that would easily cut through flesh at the slightest pull. Loki had no doubt in his mind that his wrists were now lined with gashes and he held up arms at a small angle so the blood would run down his arm and into his sleeve rather than fall to the ground. They had just entered the castle and the hallways were filled with Asgardians waiting to him fall; to see the almighty god of mischief finally get what he deserved.

The shackles began digging into his skin again and every little movement only brought forth a small amount of pain to his wrists. He could feel his arms were now wet with his blood and the others around him seemed to smell it because their expressions had gone wry.

Loki knew what he had done and that all his crimes pointed towards execution. He was almost fine that, nearly at ease with it, really. After all, he had expected to die when he had let go of Gungnir. The Asgardians around him whispered to each other in excited tones, their stares filled with both amusement and ridicule; things Loki had grown accustomed to over the past centuries. He had always been the outcast, the one blamed for when any little thing had gone wrong in Asgard.

So many times, he remembered, he would be punished for others' mistakes or for no reason at all. Also, he would be punished for the things Thor had done wrong. If Thor broke a vase, Loki was punished. If Thor made a mess, Loki was to clean it up. If Thor got into trouble, it was Loki's fault. Always, always his fault. And to make it worse, Thor didn't even know about the punishments. Had he, Loki had no doubt in his mind Thor would have come to his rescue– or, at least, would have tried to.

Because Thor insisted on being such a good brother that way.

Loki wanted to snarl at the thought. He hated Thor. Hated him, hated him, hated him. They entered the throne room when Loki found himself in front of Odin and Frigga and was shoved to his knees harshly. The blood from his wounded wrists ran down his hands and started a small pool on the golden floor, making him want to smirk. It hadn't been the first time his blood had dirtied these golden floors. The red from Thor's cape came into his peripheral vision and he almost– almost– looked up at him, but decided against it last second. He didn't want Thor thinking he wanted to be saved or wanted pity.

"Brother, you are bleeding…" The blond god looked to the guards. "I thought I told you to be careful with him." The guards quietly bowed their heads while giving soft apologies and Loki finally sent a glare to the god of thunder. 'Of course I'm bleeding, you idiot. Did you really think the guards would be oh so gentle with me? They hate me and would do anything to see me in pain. Just like everyone else.' The Allfather rose to his feet, Gungnir held tightly in one hand.

"Loki Odinson, my son…"

'I am not your son.'

"The crimes you have committed, both here and on Midgard, are punishable by death."

'Now there's a big surprise.'

"However…"

Loki furrowed his brows. He was not expecting a 'however'; he was expecting Odin to say what manner of execution he would be given.

"Because you are my son–"

His eyes narrowed. 'I am not. your. son!'

"–and because you are an Asgardian prince–" The tricker was quite surprised by this, having guessed that Odin would have removed his title, "–I have reconsidered your punishment." The Allfather took a moment as if to catch his breath and several ideas ran through Loki's mind in the few seconds of silence.

The thought of torture came to mind. He would have preferred death over torture, personally. Though, he had to admit, he would be surprised if Odin actually gave out that sentence. Giving it to a stranger was one thing, but giving it to your so-claimed 'son' was a whole other thing.

Loki gave a light shiver. He had been in the dungeons before, both to observe and experience. Though he had been down there for no more than an hour, the tortures he had received were bad enough to make him wake up with mild nightmares for the next four days. The wounds themselves healed within minutes with the help of his magic but the phantom pain seemed to remain until a week after. Yes, he would rather not have the dungeon as punishment.

The next thought was banishment. Maybe he would be stripped of his title and power– very much like Thor had been– and be cast off to a different realm. Jotunheim most likely, he thought. If it still existed. He may have been successful in destroying the realm before the Bifrost had been lost to the abyss. Or maybe they would send him back to Midgard. Either way, he would be picked– more like ripped– apart.

The last thought that came into his mind was Magic Binding. It was a torturous punishment put upon those who used magic. They would carve runes into the caster's flesh, runes that would trap their magic; rendering them unable to call upon any of their sorcery. It was by far the most torturous because when a sorcerer was bound, it practically killed a part of them. Imagine your soul being ripped out then being shattered. That's how it was for some, leaving them an empty shell of their former self. No, Loki would have chosen torture over this option any day.

But what if the Allfather knew that? What if this was not only to punish Loki, but to humiliate him as well? A sorcerer without his magic was nothing at all. A joke, a burden, an embarrassment. What if Odin didn't see the trickster as his son, but as a mistake that he should have never taken in, and wanted to see the god squirm and writhe? Loki wouldn't put it past Odin. He wouldn't put past any of the creatures in nine realms. Except Mother. Mother wouldn't do that to him…. would she? Would Thor, too...?

He was a mistake, a bastard child nobody wanted. Not Odin, not Laufey, no one. He was no one's son, a nameless form of worthlessness. He didn't belong anywhere. He was alone, always was and alway would be. A regret everyone would rather forget. He was a monster.

"For your crimes and trickery, I, Odin Allfather, hereby silence you. Your mouth is to be sewn shut with a leather thong and a spell shall be cast upon the strip that will bind most of your magical abilities." The guard that had been standing next to Frigga stepped forth, opening the box he held to reveal a threaded needle. Loki suddenly felt uneasy about the situation, tensing as the guard drew closer. What if he was in trouble? His most useful weapon had always been his words.

After all, for a long time, he had chosen words over war.

He would no longer be able to speak and he would be limited in using his magic. Yes, maybe Odin indeed was out to humiliate Loki. A tinge of fear rose within when the needle was mere inches away from his lips and he steeled himself. He would not show emotion. He refused to. His eyes landed on Frigga and he noticed she was near tears; her eyes watery filled with concern.

Guilt hit Loki, something he hadn't really expected. He was the reason his mother was currently on the verge of tears. Why would she cry for him?

He was a monster.

No one cried for a monster.

No one.

His eyes fell from her to the floor before he looked to Odin. If the Allfather was feeling anything, he wasn't showing it. But Loki knew, he knew Odin was uncomfortable. His posture gave that away. 'Try all you want, you can't trick a trickster.' Thor looked shocked. This was obviously the first time he was hearing about the punishment. Loki felt mixed emotions at this and he swallowed hard when he noticed the needle draw even closer. His muzzle was removed and the cool air hit his skin, relieving it of the heat.

"Do you have any last words you wish to speak?" Loki scanned his mind for anything he wished to say. Several things came to mind. 'I am not your son.' 'Do not cry, mother. No one cries for a monster.' 'You will fall before me.' 'Thor, you look like an idiot with that expression.' 'I will get my revenge, Allfather. Just wait and see.

The last one sounded best and he opened his mouth to speak them, but something else came out. He stared at the needle and the hand holding it. The guard held an impassive expression but Loki could see the pleasure dancing in the guard's eyes. No, if the guard were to do the sewing, there was no doubt in Loki's mind that he'd screw up on purpose just so he could start over again. "I wish for Thor to do the sewing." All eyes suddenly fell on Thor who lightly paled at the sudden request. He stuttered.

"W-What?" Odin went quiet, giving the request some thought, before tensing; his grip on Gungnir tightening.

"It is your brother's last verbal request. Thor Odinson, the responsibility of sewing Loki's mouth has now befallen you. Take up the needle and thong and be done with it." Thor hesitated as he needle was pushed into his hands and he stared at Loki with questioning eyes.

"Why…?"

"If I'm going to suffer, you shall, too. Now be done with it already." Thor knelt before his brother, the needle inches from those soft lips. He swallowed hard and when he looked into his brother's eyes, he could see it.

Fear.

His brother was afraid, though he was doing an excellent job at hiding it. If Thor had not been so close, he never would have seen the hidden emotion in those green eyes.

"Just so you know," Loki whispered quietly, his eyes glaring hard, "–I hate you." Silence, then the needle moved. It slid through the bottom lip and Loki's jaw clenched; his eye twitching and his hands curling to fists. He would not show emotion, he would not show emotion. Blood began to flow down his chin and his breathing became heavy. Thor's hands shook lightly, but his sewing remained stead. He knew if he messed up, he would never be able to forgive himself. The whole even went on for several minutes before the leather throng was finally tied off. Thor dropped the needle and took a step back; horror clearly plain on his face. Loki almost– almost– laughed at Thor's expression but even with just a twitch of his lips he felt pain blossom.

Not even thirty seconds passed after it was done but Loki could already feel his magic weaken. Fainter and fainter it grew, until so little remained. With the amount he had, he could use one attack spell and that was it. Odin nodded to the guard and the cuffs around Loki's arms were removed, but he did nothing to acknowledge their bleeding wounds. He stood, swaying for just a moment, before heading towards the door. He wanted nothing more than to go to his chamber and sleep. He had hardly slept at all since he had fallen from the Bifrost, and exhaustion was gnawing continuously at his mind. He opened the doors to the hall.

Then it began.

The laughter.

It echoed through the golden halls. It echoed in his ears, in his mind. They pointed and laughed and laughed and laughed. Oh, they had been waiting a long time for this moment. Loki, still standing tall, tried his best to ignore them all.

But he couldn't.

How could he?

They were always there to laugh at him when he fell. There to laugh when he was weak. They were there to make his life a living hell.

He walked quickly through the halls, holding himself back so he wouldn't break into a run. Because he needed to run, to get away. He wanted to get away from all of them. He was tired of being humiliated. Hadn't he been through that enough times in his life? How many times had he been humiliated? Countless times. He hated it. He felt so weak and pathetic. But he tells himself he deserves it, that he needs to feel like that. Because he is no one's son. He belongs nowhere. He will die alone, like a monster should.

'I am a monster.'

'And a monster is always shunned, always beaten.'

'A monster is never given happiness, it is not permitted.'

'Therefore, I am to live in misery.'

'For ever…'

"Look, the great god of lies has finally been silenced."

"He has fallen, that traitorous leech."

'And ever…'

"He no longer can use that silver tongue of his."

"He'll get what he deserves in due time."

'And ever…'

Okay, there's the first chapter. So, I'm AM going to edit in about a week or so, but I would dearly love some critique on this. Really, I want to know what you thought, where I can improve, what should be changed, all that. That's why I've put this up so early, so I know what to improve in on the next chapter. So, thank you for reading, if you did. :D And please, leave a review! Please? :3

Your shy ice elemental,
~roo the mischievous psycho