"Bring me home in a blinding dream,
Through the secrets that I have seen
Wash the sorrow from off my skin
And show me how to be whole again"
Castle of Glass ~Linkin Park
The grains of wood began to part as a fingernail etched between a thin coat of varnish. A vertical line no bigger than the maker's fingertip was permanently engraved into the mahogany bedpost, standing alongside two equally small and jagged lines.
"Is this how you intend to treat what I have given you?" a woman's voice echoed. She spoke softly, but there was as evident motherly strictness in her tone. "You are no longer a child, Loki," she continued. "If this is what three days has done to you, then I worry…"
"Do you now?" Loki sat up in his bed to turn towards the golden-haired goddess standing before his bleak and empty cage. "Well, at least someone has the heart to care."
"You know full well that you have brought this on yourself!" Frigga warned, raising her voice as she stepped towards Loki's bed. She waved her hand and a golden chair cushioned with emerald velvet appeared before the god's bedside.
"Keeping me company?" Loki asked with a forced chuckle.
"Yes," Frigga breathed. She understood that humour was her son's way of coping with the stress. Frigga seated herself, observing the way Loki's hands fidgeted in his lap. "I have tried reasoning with your father…" Loki grunted in disapproval at her word choice. Frigga ignored his childish remark before continuing. "Give him time. I promise that he will come around. For now, I expect you understand why you are here. I agree that you deserve this punishment."
"Eternal banishment," Loki scowled.
"It is a far fairer option than death!" the goddess warned with narrowed eyes.
Loki couldn't recall ever seeing Frigga with such an icy look in her eyes. Sure, he had angered her with his antics in the past, but things were different now. Lives had been lost, a city lay in ruins… all because of his actions. Loki felt no remorse, though. He was only acting out as a ruler, a king. All his life, he was promised a throne, so he had simply acted on his innermost desire. Unfortunately, not even Frigga approved of his rampage over Midgard, but if not for her, Odin would have had him lopped apart limb from limb the second Thor returned him to Asgard. "If you are so disgusted in me, then you should have let me die," the trickster muttered, lowering his gaze to the ground.
Frigga's lips formed a thin line as her hands reached out to grasp Loki's cold hand. "You do not deserve death, Loki," she calmly began. "Death is an unfair punishment, and I see redemption within you."
"Unfortunately, Odin fails to see that." Loki pulled his hand away, instantly missing the warmth of her hands.
"Disappointment has clouded his judgment."
Loki snorted at her comment. "If all I am is a disappointment, then I might as well do him a favour by slipping a noose around my neck, seeing that falling from the Bifrost couldn't end me."
"Loki Odinson!" Frigga snapped. Her chair screeched against the floor as she abruptly rose to her feet. "That is no way to speak!" she shouted, her voice echoing and making Loki flinch. "He is angry, Loki. As am I!" The trickster kept his eyes glued to the ground. "We only want you to see that you have caused a great deal of pain and destruction! The peace has been disrupted, and you are the cause!"
The raven-haired god clenched his jaw. Frigga was of no help in making him feel any better. For once, she was making him feel worse. He glared up at her beneath his lashes and felt his heart sink to his stomach as he saw her eyes clouded with tears.
"Tell me that you have not lost hope…" Frigga paused as their eyes met. "Are you truly so unhappy that you would choose to take your own life?" Tears began rolling down her flushed cheeks as Loki's lower lip trembled. "Please, Loki," she pleaded, dropping to her knees. "Even the most lost soul can find right path. Please know that, Loki," the goddess urged, desperately reaching for his hands. "I want nothing more than for you to be happy."
Happiness… Loki felt hot tears sting his eyes at her words. Frigga always saw the good in everyone, yet Loki questioned his worth. Did he deserve to be happy? He felt so lost, so far from the path of righteousness-was redemption even possible? His recent trip to Midgard forced him to recall all that he had learned about a certain Natasha Romanoff. Her hands were much dirtier than his, yet she carried on, holding her head high. Was she happy, though? Or did the weight of her burdens plague her day after day? Loki didn't wish to live like that. Living with his wrongs was too much of a cross to bear. How he wished to be a child again, so young and naïve. Not a care in the world…
"Loki?"
The warmth of his mother's fingers against his cheek brought Loki to his senses.
"I love you, Loki," Frigga breathed. "You are my son, and you always will be…" She got up to wrap her arms around the god's neck. "Your happiness is mine," she added. I swear that I will reason with Odin to get you out of here, so long as you promise me that you will own up to your mistakes. There is still good in your heart," Frigga promised, grabbing his cheeks and looking straight into his emerald orbs. "Don't forget that." Loki gave her a blank stare. "Answer me, Loki," she ordered in a loving yet stern tone.
After a weak nod, Frigga smiled and slowly brought her hands to her sides.
"Would you like me to bring you some books to occupy you?" she offered.
Loki folded his hands in his lap. "Yes," he muttered. "Please." Frigga vanished from his view, leaving Loki alone with his thoughts. Letting his mother down was the last thing Loki wanted to do, yet she was the only one who seemed to believe in him. Was righting his wrongs even worth it? Surely all of Asgard, along with Midgard, would eternally resent him even if he was declared a Saint. How did Agent Romanoff achieve her redemption? Clint Barton had divulged that she was a murderer, as well as a woman wanted by S.H.I.E.L.D., yet she currently worked for the very agency that attempted to end her life. Loki scowled as he mentally cursed the redhead. Was it all trickery? She was certainly a devious one, seeing that she managed to outwit his clever mind. Loki's blood began to boil as he recalled her snarky smile.
"Thank you for your cooperation."
His fist collided with the wall as thoughts of the Black Widow crowded his mind. What did she have that he didn't? Why was she more worthy of redemption than he? Was he even worthy of anything? Loki rolled onto his back. Three days of confinement was making him restless and his short temper wasn't helping. Why couldn't he be good enough? Why wasn't he ever good enough? Thor had the throne and the love of two parents, Agent Romanoff had the trust of people who were once her enemies… Loki had nothing but the clothes on his back and a four-walled enclosure to keep him locked away from the rest of the world.
In an ideal world, Loki would be the beloved son. He would be a King, and no one would stand in his way! Especially not a know-it-all redheaded assassin. His thoughts all seemed to come down to her. Loki didn't like that one bit, but her cool attitude and cocky grin continued plaguing his thoughts. How he wished to break her. Threatening her with Barton wasn't enough, so what would kick her off her high horse for good?
Loki closed his eyes and brought himself back to his glass cage on Midgard. He couldn't turn back time, but his imagination was free to explore the possibilities of what could have been… Before him would stand Natasha, arms crossed as she stood her ground to watch the caged beast before her. He would slam his fist against the glass so hard that it would shatter into a million tiny pieces as it scattered all around their feet. There would be no barrier, and no help to come and rescue Natasha. A devilish grin from Loki would remind the assassin that there would be no escape for her. He would grab the woman by the wrists and pin her body against his. Loki could only imagine how thrilling her cries of anger would sound as she kicked and struggled to break free. But he wouldn't let go-not until he had her begging on her knees for forgiveness. Loki began to imagine a look of desperation in the woman's eyes as her full lips parted to utter his name.
The god's eyes fluttered open as the tightness pressing against his trousers became unbearable. His pent-up frustrations definitely needed release. Quickly, Loki cast a spell over his cell to give his neighbouring fiends the illusion that he was asleep. His fingers worked to unclasp his pants' buttons, allowing for his hardened length to be free. He gingerly began stroking himself, all while imagining Natasha's skillful hands. Would she be so delicate, though? Having been made his prisoner, she would surely be furious, and her actions would show it. Loki's fingers squeezed his cock, making him sharply cry out. Yes. Natasha would show him no mercy. Loki forcefully rubbed his length, arching his hips as he lost himself to his fantasy. He envisioned Natasha giving him a playful smirk as she saw the power she held over him.
Loki furrowed his brows as he stopped mid-stroke. No, he was supposed to be the one in control over her. The god brought himself onto his knees and after a quick incantation, his very own Agent Romanoff lay beneath his body.
"Loki." Her voice beckoned him as her legs secured themselves around his narrow hips.
She felt all too entirely real to him. Loki brought the tip of his cock to her entrance and gasped as he felt her heat. The illusion brought forth such pleasure to the god's pulsing member that he wasted no time in taking her in one delicious thrust. The fake Natasha cried out, making Loki's grin widen. All of Loki's bottled up anger and frustration was taken out on the assassin as his hips slammed against hers. "Whatever happened to your confidence?" he hissed into the false-Natasha's ear. "You are no longer in control," he added, grabbing a fistful of her hair. "I have made you mine!" Loki seethed. "I am a King! A true King-a rightful Ki-!" Loki's body stiffened as his orgasm took over and a snarl escaped his throat. He began to see black and in the midst of his release, Natasha vanished.
The moment passed and Loki found himself panting, his bed sheets and pants stained with his juices. He collapsed onto his belly and with a wave of his hand, the mess was gone and he had made himself look presentable. The enchantment over the cell disappeared, for Loki had drifted off into a deep slumber.
"You sure you're holding up okay, Nat?" Clint asked, eying his partner as she fastened a holster to her thigh.
"I should be the one to ask you that," she remarked under her breath. Three days after an alien invasion and she was needed on the field. Fury owed her big time as far as vacation time was concerned.
"Did he mess with you, too?" Clint softly asked, watching Natasha's every move. She seemed more reserved than usual. Natasha could say she was fine, but Clint knew her well enough to know when something was off. "Natasha?"
"No." Her tone was colder than intended, but Clint had it coming. This was the ninth time he asked if she was okay. Quite honestly, she wasn't. Some complete stranger from a land of myth knew her deepest secrets, the ones she entrusted with those closest to her, aka, Barton and Fury. Natasha still had a bone to pick with Loki, and unfortunately, he was long gone. A shame since she personally wanted to kick his ass all the way back to Asgard herself… Maybe another day. "Try not to have too much fun here without me," the spy sarcastically remarked. She grabbed a beat-up backpack and slung it over her shoulder.
"Because cleaning up the city's gonna be a blast," Clint chuckled.
"You never know," Natasha shrugged. "Twenty bucks says Stark's gonna be hammered while on duty." Clint laughed, but Natasha could sense that he was still concerned about her. She hoped that a few days of being out of town would help Clint forget that she was still hung up about Loki. Natasha rolled her eyes. Maybe a mission would do her some good…
