Frigga had been wringing her hands raw since the moment she'd heard of their return. Thor had gone the moment they arrived, seeking solitude elsewhere, far away from the throne room and the trial of his brother. A dozen guards had gone to await their return at the Bifrost, and now a dozen returned, this time Loki accompanied them, his wrists and ankles bound in manacles. Despite the shackles, his walk was proud, and his eyes fixed ahead.
A bare minimum of words were exchanged between Frigga and her youngest son before she was dismissed. Though reluctant, she forced herself to obey. When she'd first heard of Loki's plans on Midgard and of his sentence she'd begged the All-Father to spare his life, to keep him imprisoned but alive. After much deliberation, he had agreed on one condition: she was to never visit him, never see him again. An idea grew in her mind from that moment, an idea that became a plan set in motion. A second – and final- chance that neither Odin nor Thor had conceived. It would not be easy, nor would it please Odin, but she'd rather ask the forgiveness of him than allow her son to spend his life in a prison cell when she might have had the mind to change that fate. Her defiance and determination had won out over her loyalty and obedience, as it had many times before.
Now was the time to act, for the final pieces to fall into place. She only hoped that her efforts were not going to be in vain.
/
The dungeons of Asgard were located deep under the main golden halls of the palace. Many prisoners down there had long forgotten the feel of the sun and sight of the sky. A dank stone staircase led to rows of sterile white prison cells, one after the other. They were homes to criminals of the Nine Realms, and as Loki was lead down the hall towards and empty cell, the rats peered out of their cages, their jeers and laughter not going unnoticed.
Hands clenched into fists, Loki resisted the urge to claw and scratch at the manacles around his wrists, to break free and tear apart everything in sight. Rage filled him as never before, to be sentenced to be buried beneath Asgard's walls, to be hidden away and forgotten for eternity. Being granted death at least would have held some pride, but this - this was humiliating.
The prison cell that would while away eternity in stood before him, the transparent walls around it disbanded. The guard behind him gave a hard push, and he was in the cell – except he wasn't. Between one footstep and the next, the stark white walls of the cell turned to the golden room of the Bifrost Observatory. Heimdall stood, as he always had, immobile at the helm; and beside him…
"Mother," Loki said, though Frigga had already started towards him, her eyes steely with determination. "What are you-"
"There's no time to explain now." She said, hurriedly removing the cuffs from his wrists. For a brief moment, he entertained the thought that she was helping him escape, until Frigga's hands grasped his wrists, and he felt a sudden stinging pain in them. The feeling of magic that he'd felt all his life suddenly dimmed, was stifled. Loki jerked back, realizing what had happened – two silver bracelets, hair-thin and near invisible, had been placed on his wrists, diminishing his magic greatly.
"What are you doing?" Loki asked again, only any light curiosity had gone from his voice.
"Helping you." Was all Frigga said, before she nodded to Heimdall. The last thing Loki saw was Frigga giving him a smile that did not reach her eyes, before the Bifrost jerked him away and into oblivion.