Loki was furious. Not his usual calm, collected anger that could freeze a burning coal with the simple flick of his mind. No this was the roiling, burning anger that heated him from the inside, alighting his chest, his very core, on fire. Not something that happened to him often. The Asgardian God of Mischief had always prided himself on his dangerously controlled manner in any situation. The times he had exploded into a fit of anger similar to this were few and far between, and anyone unfortunate enough to witness such a catastrophe felt lucky enough to walk out alive. But this time. Oh THIS time, Odin the "All-Father" had simply gone too far.
It was nothing harmful, at least not to him. He was helping the poor, naïve Midgardians in their world of never-ending strife by giving them something they so obviously needed. A sovereign. Someone they could all look up to and worship as one collective people. Then, maybe then, Odin could have seen what kind of king he could have been. A just, righteous ruler who exuded all the proper qualities of a person with such a position. Power, judgment, control. Not like Thor, who had gone from bad to worse. Honestly, Loki had preferred when Thor was just a brawny buffoon who swung Mjönir around like it was a toy. But now the God of Strength had gone from a moron of muscle to the God of Softness. And it made Loki sick. Watching his so-called brother be changed so easily by this… this… Midgardian. And a female of their species as well. That in itself should have been the perfect indicator of just how weak-minded Thor was. But no. Odin had decided that his transformation into a pitiful sap was to be rewarded with the crown! But Valhalla forbid, Loki goes to Midgard to provide order and be proactive in earning his crown. And now he was stuck in a cell after Thor and his new "friends" had overthrown his just reign before it had even begun.
The sound of footsteps echoing down the stone corridor of the jail roused him from his angered musings. Pausing in his ever-present pacing he watched as a troupe of ten guards, fully garbed in the proud gold armor of the Asgardian royal guard. As one they marched, the halted at his cell. For a moment, Loki allowed himself the luxury of imagining them all kneeling and pledging their undying loyalty to him. Their leader, a stocky man whom he had never cared enough to remember the name of stepped forward, ramrod straight, his face an unreadable mask.
"Loki Odinson, you are being summoned by the All-Father."
Loki could have rolled his eyes, but to do so was beneath him. And so instead, he settled with a curt, clipped response, "Has the All-Father finally deemed me worthy to stand in his presence?"
The guards ignored the fallen god, responding with their own, commanding tones, "Hold out your wrists and don't try anything."
"Oh don't worry your simple minds over that; I am aware of the consequences."
The cells of Asgard, while plain and simple, were exceptionally efficient, as one would expect from he Realm Eternal. The cells themselves were empty rooms of pure white with the only thing keeping the convicts prisoners were walls of gold, reminding each criminal of Odin's omnipotence. But hidden in the gold, opaque walls was a hidden power, that every lawless person was either aware of or soon would be. Prisoners, if they messed with the golden restraints enough, would not only be prevented from leaving, but they would also set off an alarm and shock the convict enough to where they were temporarily paralyzed. And if they were like Loki and had any magic whatsoever, they would find that their powers had deserted them leaving them to the mercy of Odin's judgment.
And so, Loki cooperated, shocking the guards, though they showed it with only a subtle change in their stance, which would go unnoticed to the untrained eye. But Loki was no such person, catching every change and mentally filing it in case the opportunity would later present itself. Mentally smirking at their reaction to his lack of opposition he allowed the guards to approach. As expected, they were wary, two approaching from each side slowly, holding out the chains like such simple restraints were the only thing keeping the sly god from lashing out. But with this wariness was confidence, the knowledge that he was outnumbered ten to one. And so Loki allowed them to approach, relishing in their submerged nervousness, still exuding his confident air wordlessly letting everyone know he could not be restrained.
Loki did have to admit, these chains, as much as he loathed it, were doing a decent job at restraining him. Every limb had some form of shackle, each chain connected to a collar around his neck, reducing him from son of the All-Father to a simple traitor with an even simpler choker. The iron links both added weight and prevented movement, making every movement slow and predictable. And so, the walk to his judgment began.
Every step was accomplished sluggishly, delaying the inevitable. Each foot walked jangled the chains, alerting everyone that a perilous criminal was stalking through the halls, called to his fate. This was the most feared walk in all of Asgard, from the dungeons to the most powerful being in the Realm. But Loki took every step with his usual dignity, seemingly not bothered by the walk to his potential doom. Thor had started a war with the Frost Giants and was only banished. What was the worst the All-Father could do to him?
Finally, as Loki entered the gilded halls of his childhood home, a pang of longing and jealousy stabbed at his heart. This was where he grew up. Unwanted memories were conjured as he walked through what was once his place of sanctuary. Him and Thor running through the endless corridors, weaving between servants and commoners in their game of chase. Learning magic under the tutorage of a private teacher. Walking hand in hand with the man he once called him father, Odin speaking words of wisdom in his deep, wise tone. O, how he once looked up to The All-Father, until the King of Asgard made himself into the King of Idiocy as he chose Thor, who was so obviously incompetent. The same day Loki learned what he really was. A Frost Giant. And suddenly, everything made sense. Odin's favoritism to the God of Thunder, why Loki wasn't even considered to wear the crown and lead the people. Even when Loki had gone and worked to prove himself to his father he was rebuffed time and time again. And now here he was; chained like an animal, slowly being walked to his fate. So much for Loki, God of Mischief, Son of Odin.
The throne room of the palace was said to be the crown jewel in all the realm of Asgard. A great hall with room for thousands, the walls and columns gilded in the purest gold, the floors solid marble. All around, lanterns hung, the flames dancing in the air, reflecting off of the gold surroundings in a dance of light and heat. But nothing compared to the grandeur of the throne itself. A great structure, long enough to seat two people, or lounge if you were Loki, with two wing like structures, made of pure, pale iron. Gold plating decorated the throne in intricate patterns, making the eyes dance to follow the patterns. When Loki was young he and Thor would sit before the throne and make up stories as to what the designs meant. Now they were just pretty swirls, mocking him with times long gone.
And there, seated on top of the throne, sitting in his ever-condescending manner, was the lord of the realm, Odin. On his left was the blundering idiot that started this whole mess. Thor. Loki spared a moment to glare at his pseudo-sibling with unrivaled hate. But all he received in return was a sorrowful glance, Thor's deep blue eyes stained with pity for the fallen son of royalty. Mentally scoffing in disgust and disdain for the Thunder God, Loki turned to Odin's right, where the only member of royalty whom he still had a shred of respect for stood. His mother, Frigga. Frigga, who had comforted him when he had a nightmare, who always listened to him when he brought his worries to her. Frigga, who had nurtured him and truly cared for him, even when he wasn't her own, who cared for him as much as she did Thor.
But now, instead of the unending love and pride she usually carried in her eyes, the soft green was dulled by pain and hurt. Underneath was still the love, but it was a restrained love, one she would not allow anyone to see. Ignoring the stab of sorrow in his heart, Loki finally turned to the god who called for this private discussion. The man whom Loki bore the most hatred to: Odin.
Before Loki could study the man pompously seated on his throne, he was forced to halt, the lead guard stepping forward. With a simple bow, he began,
"My king. We have brought forward the traitor as was commanded."
Odin nodded and silently commanded his guards to proceed with a simple wave of his hand. The guards acted as commanded in their silent, stiff manner, matching the attitude of the ruler seated on the throne, moving efficiently to protect the royal family. Well, most of them. They didn't seem to care for the forgotten prince they were now chaining to the floor. But as they finished restraining the royalty turned traitor, Odin waved them away with a simple, yet dignified flick of the wrist.
Silence reigned supreme, excepting the unified marching of the guards as they left the room, the door closing behind them with an ominous boom, not unlike thunder. Then the king sitting before Loki stood, striking his staff onto the ground, the gavel of this trial.
"Loki, Son of Laufey. You have been brought here to be judged for your crimes." Odin's deep voice echoed out across the chamber, every syllable strong and full of power, contrasting the appearance of the king who seemed frail and weak.
"So I'm the son of a Frost Giant now and not your own?" Loki asked coolly, hiding how much the title truly hurt. So that was it. Odin wasn't even denying the disownment of his adopted son now. And on top of that, neither Thor nor Frigga so much as blinked at his new title. And then it hit him; Frigga was not on his side. The hurt in her eyes was not from seeing one of her sons in chains. No it was from what she believed he had done. They had turned her.
"Your actions were not unlike that of the people you were born into, not the people who brought you in and fostered you. They were not the actions of my son. A son who is now dead to me. Taken from this world by the son of a Frost Giant." The words fell onto Loki's uncaring ears, now made even more so by the realization that his maternal figure no longer seemed to care for him. But before Loki could snip something back, the All-Father continued in his judgment.
"And so, Loki Laufeyson, how do you plead for your crimes?"
The smile on Loki's face was condescending and sneakily innocent, not unlike that of a five year old who knew he was caught stealing cookies from the jar but was still playing innocent, "What crimes? Trying to bring order to a world of chaos?"
"Do you truly fail to realize the repercussions of your actions?"
"What? Going to Midgard to rule and bring together a people as one? Bringing together a world forever ruled by death and war? Where is the crime in that?"
"You do not seek to rule. You only seek a throne, where people will worship you as a god. A place where you hold power and dominion over all."
"Do you not do the same over the people of Asgard? Sitting here on your throne, passing out the judgment over the people who walk through these halls."
Thor interjected, "Enough!" Then in a softer, pleading tone, "Loki please. Do not make this worse for yourself. Where is the brother who would stand beside me? Where is the brother who cared for the people around him?"
Loki raised an eyebrow craftily, "He's right here, or are you too blind to see that as well?"
Odin struck the butt of his staff to the ground, silencing both of the youthful gods, "Enough. Loki, it is evident you cannot be reasoned with, nor can you see the error of your ways. And so, for your crimes against the people of Midgard, and your actions against the Realm of Asgard, you are to be exiled. You will be stripped of all powers and shall be cast out, never to return to the Realm Eternal. Guards!"
The soldiers instantly walked into the room, taking Loki's chains then waiting for orders form the All-Father. Odin stood and walked to Loki, whose eyes widened in horror as he understood what was about to happen now. And for a second, his composure slipped. In a panic, he struggled to free himself from the bonds of prison, struggling to get away from the ever-approaching King of Asgard, but to no avail. And then, Odin was there, his wrinkled, callused hand on Loki's forehead, pulling out the one thing that defined the God of Mischief, his magic. Loki struggled against the process, holding onto whatever shreds of mystic power he could, before it slipped through his grasp, water in the sieve of his mind. And then it was gone. The one thing he had cherished most, taken away without a second thought.
The draining left Loki weak and broken, barely able to stand as he heaved for breath, trying and failing to become accustomed to existing without his powers. But he would be without respite as Odin stepped back and spoke uncaringly, "Take him to the Rainbow Bridge. There we will meet Heimdall, who will open the Bifrost."
Loki couldn't see if the people who took him in had any reaction to his current state, too busy staring at his boots and heaving to catch his breath, nor did he have a chance to as he was pulled away, the guards leading him as an owner would a dog. But he couldn't imagine that they cared much. In fact, they were probably glad to be rid of him, a weight off of their shoulders.
As the doors closed behind Loki and the guards as they began to long walk to the Bifrost, Thor looked to Odin, worry in his eyes, "Father, he is too dangerous to just be exiled. Even without his powers, Loki is a manipulator and will find a way back here, where he will exact his revenge on all of us."
Frigga stepped in to defend her lost son, "Do you really believe that of your own brother Thor?"
"Unfortunately Frigga, Thor is correct. Loki is smart and cunning. If he finds a way back he will act on his anger. This is not the Loki we raised, but a sly man who will do anything to get what he desires most. But I have a way to prevent this from ever happening."
"And so you will abandon the son we raised in an effort to save ourselves? Odin, please, he is still ours, if not in blood then in our hearts."
Odin paused, then sighed, "Thor, leave us. We will meet you at the Bifrost."
The God of Thunder nodded respectfully and departed, walking with determined strides to the Rainbow Bridge to meet with Loki and the guards. Once he was sure Thor could not hear him, Odin turned back to his wife, taking her hands, "Frigga, the son we raised, the boy we took in… He is dead now. What remains is a shell of whom he used to be. Loki Odinson died the day he tried to kill his brother. Loki Laufeyson now stands in his place."
"But is there still hope for our son?" Frigga's eyes became watery as the full repercussions of what had happened to her child made themselves known.
Odin closed his eyes, seeming to mourn the happy, carefree boy that had become this monster, "I do not see any. Our son is lost to us."
Frigga, the Queen of Asgard, allowed herself to shed her composure of calm, ever-present regality and simply allowed herself to become Frigga, mother of Thor and Loki. Sobbing, she rested her head against her husbands chest, finding comfort in his presence and the knowledge that he too was shaken by the loss of one of their own. Silently, Odin reciprocated the gesture, by placing his chin on the top of her head and allowing soundless tears to flow down his cheeks. And the two parents mourned their loss, the only sounds being that of Frigga's soft sobs and Odin's comforting murmurs.
The Rainbow Bridge was truly a sight to behold. Even those who had walked over its multicolored, shimmering surface multiple times in their long lives couldn't help but be amazed at its beauty. Spanning over a mile, the otherworldly pass connected the streets of Asgard to the Bifrost, the highway that connected the Nine Realms. And the being that guarded the way to the worlds was Heimdall, He Who Sees All. And so it was not a shock to the eternal guardian when Loki was pushed forward to the gate that would send him away from his home. All he did was gaze at the fallen god wordlessly, pitiful disdain in his eyes as he recalled whom Loki was and what he had become. The guard; however, seemed overly vocal about the disgraced being who stood captive, "His Majesty, King Odin All-Father, has decreed Loki to be exiled from the Realm Eternal for his crimes against-"
"I know the crimes and the sentence." Heimdall's voice silenced the guard, who meekly stepped back, temporarily forgetting who he was addressing. The rest of the time was spent in silence, awaiting the appearance of Odin and Frigga, who would carry out the banishment. Thor appeared first, only sparing Loki a sorrowful glance, before turning to Heimdall in respect, nodding humbly at the gatekeeper. And finally after what seemed like an eternity to the keepers of the realm, the rulers of the lands could be seen approaching the group gathered at the gates.
Loki had remained silent for the time he was dragged to the Bifrost, too weak to do anything but move as he was dragged to his doom. Was this how Thor felt, when Odin had spontaneously exiled him? Weak, powerless, unable to do anything but try and comprehend why he deserved this fate. Mulling over every action and wondering where he went wrong. But as his adopted parents walked over the Bridge to where he stood, the fury he felt in his core before his trial grew to a new height. Never before had such an anger lodged itself in his chest, a bloodlust so violent he was sure the corners of his vision became tinted with crimson. And in that second he vowed he would see the All-Father dead by his hands. The king, the father he once looked up to, the man that turned his very mother against him and cast out his own son would one day lay dead before him, blood pooling around his cooling corpse as he freed Asgard from his terrible reign.
As the All-Father stepped down from his horse, he spoke, his words ringing out over the waterfalls that marked the edge of Asgard, "Loki Laufeyson. For your crimes against two of the Nine Realms of the Tree Yggdrasil, you have proven yourself to be a traitor, unable to be reasoned with. A traitor to the Nine realms, to the place you one held, and to the people who loved and cared for you. You will shed your name, your powers, and your form, never to return to Asgard. And so, by the name of my father," Odin walked into the room where the Bifrost was held, the group following.
"And his father before him." Heimdall opened the gate, light flooding into the room, as lightning activated the gateway from Asgard. Loki looked to the man speaking, locking eyes with the all-powerful god, forest green hatefully staring down sky blue as Odin took a deep breath, "I cast you out!"
A mix of gold and green magic struck Loki in the chest, throwing him into the Bifrost. Just before he was swept away to Valhalla knew where, he spared a moment to wonder if Odin cast everybody out like his, before pain cascaded over his whole being as he was thrown into the unknown.
The ride was violent and painful, thankfully lasting only thirty seconds or so. But thirty seconds is a long time when you are in blistering agony. But finally the rocky ride ended and Loki found himself on the dirt ground, breathing heavily as he worked to get his strength back. Mentally cursing Odin for hitting him with magic, right in the chest too, he opened his eyes to find himself in a dirt alley.
First thing is first. Get up, demand a bath somewhere. Next, figure out where in the Nine Realms that oaf blasted me. Go from there Loki.
As Loki decided on a plan of action, he nodded and went to stand. But as he got his balance, he fell flat on his face. Mentally, he cursed himself, wondering if Odin took away his ability to walk along with his magic.
What is wrong with me? I am Loki, God of Mischief! Walking should be no problem for me! Unless the All-Father deemed me to dangerous to walk. Is that what I am to become? A crippled beggar crumpled in the streets, something to look upon with disdain. No. Try again.
But as he tried again, and took the first step, once again he fell on his face. Blowing the black appendage that fell over his eyes he settled for this most undignified position, panic rising in his chest. That was it. He was done for. How could Loki extract his revenge if he couldn't even stand on his own two feet? Closing his eyes, he decided that maybe a few moment of rest wouldn't be too uncalled for. Odin did just drain him of his powers for Bor's sake. But as he lay on his chest, he started to think. Just what was obscuring his vision a second ago? It didn't look like hair, though it was the right color. Sitting up, he took a quick look at his surroundings. Ok. Dirt, a wall, dirt, dirt, a tail, another wall, dirt, and dirt. Ok. Nothing too bad. But what was the tail connected to?
Looking at the twitching black appendage, Loki followed the tail to a body. Actually, funnily enough the body seemed connected to… him.
Hyperventilating, Loki shot up and finally looked at himself. Sitting in an alley was not Loki, God of Mischief. Now it was Loki, the cat of mischief.