Your birthright was to die.
The words were like that of a swift and vigorous slap to the face and they stung every bit as much. Truth be told he'd never thought about it in such a harsh and realistic way but now that he had received his sentencing and was being made to live out the rest of his days in Asgardian prison it would surely be the only thing he'd think about. He would spend the entirety of his days dissecting those five words and that would be perhaps even more insufferable and tormenting than simply rotting away in a cell.
Loki was brought back to the moment by the feel of one of the guards yanking barbarously on the set of chains that prevented his escape. The jarring act was so merciless and unexpected it nearly caused the crestfallen God to lose his footing but he recovered quickly. He could see no clear and obvious signs of amusement on the guards face but he knew it lurked just beneath the surface masked by the ever present stoicism and it earned the uncouth guard a snarl from the Raven haired God. If he were not bound by the nettlesome chains he might have made the burly oaf pay dearly for such a juvenile act but as it was he was in no position to exact revenge of any sort, especially when said chains drained him of all magical abilities.
No more loutish acts out of last minute strife and revenge were made against Loki proving the rest of the trip to his cell to be uneventful and it was but a meager glimpse into what his eternity would look like –- bleak, monotonous, and painfully lethargic with light sprinklings of disheartenment. What an interesting perpetuity it was shaping up to be, indeed. When they finally arrived at the underground prison Loki allowed his eyes to roam over the plentiful cells, most were filled with quite a few prisoners from varying realms and he glowered at the thought of being surrounded by these creatures for the rest of his days.
They would be the only things he would likely ever see again and he'd never wanted to scream before –- finding the act to be foolish, brash and unwise as it was a tell –- but if ever there was an appropriate time to have such an urge now was it, though he knew better than to act on it. He might be the one getting imprisoned, doomed to a less than magnanimous punishment by the Allfather, but he would accept his retribution with all the regality and grace he could muster up. He pulled his intent gaze away from the cells and settled it upon the guards again listening carefully as they talked amongst themselves, trying and failing to speak in hushed tones so that he might not hear their conversation.
"Do not unchain him just yet, you fool. What if he tries to escape? What then? The Allfather will have our heads and I will not risk my rank and title simply because you want to get this task over with!"
"Look, there is no way he will be able to escape do not worry yourself so. As soon as I unchain him I will force him into the cell. And you seem to forget that even if The God of Lies happens to escape that he will have no where to run, no where –-"
"He is the God of Lies and Mischief do you really think so little of him that you've convinced yourself he, of all people, does not always have a trick up his sleeve? It's in his nature. For the love of nine, why do you think they call him Trickster?"
"He has accepted his fate, he'll go peacefully for why would he not? If by some stroke of luck he did manage to get free of the realm then Odin would surely send Thor after him and he'd be collected once more. He will not get far if he gets anywhere at all."
"If by some stroke of luck? I do not even wish to risk it. We will unchain him in the cell and that is the end of –-"
"Ah, but you seem to forget whom holds the key."
And with that the more brutish of the two guards turned his gaze upon Loki and studied him for but a moment; silently assessing him and sizing him up. He was a definite fool for not minding his comrades words, a witless fool. Loki kept his features passive and even opted to break eye contact first so that the guard might think he had the upper hand in the situation, that he had in fact given up all hope and only wished to go peacefully. As he approached Loki realized it was the guard that had tugged upon his chains unwarrantedly and he would definitely make the fool pay.
The brute made quick work of unchaining him starting first at the collar around his neck, then the one restraining his wrists, and finally the shackles around his ankles. When the burdensome chains fell down into a pool of metal around him he instantly felt fifty pounds lighter and a sense of rejuvenation and life began coursing through him a feeling that could only be caused by the surging of his magic throughout his being once more but he remained motionless, waiting and watching.
The wiser of the two's face was riddled with concern and distrust and as he began to approach Loki sent a sudden blast of green light hurdling into his chest. It knocked him off of his feet and sent him flying backward into the cobblestone wall, his head smacking against the rocks with a resounding crunching noise that seemed to echo for a moment, ringing in his ears. He barely had any time to appreciate the regaining of his strength and abilities before the other man was drawing his sword and swinging it dutifully at his head. Loki ducked in the nick of time, feeling the familiar gust of wind skim across the top of his and undoubtedly severe a few wayward locks.
In an instant he managed to conjure up one of his many prized daggers and jabbed it into the side of the guards thigh, wedging it impossibly deep into the man's flesh and drawing an almost animalistic cry from his lips before he toppled over in pain. He was on the man as soon as his body hit the ground, the edge of his blade digging into his throat and a wicked smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You really should have heeded your companions advice. Never doubt that, if given a window of opportunity no matter how small, I will always take it." A look of pure horror and agonizing pain was painted on the man's face as he stared up at Loki and that only served to make the God's nefarious smile grow.
"What? Are you not having fun anymore now that you're at my disposal? Well, now, that really is very unfortunate. For you." Without a second thought Loki slid the blade's defined edge across the width of the man's neck slitting it effortlessly. "Now you'll never make the mistake of thinking that you can have some form of entertainment at my expense ever again." Gone was the smile from his lips and it was now replaced with a startling iniquity, that too, was gone after a moment as a wave of soft green light cascaded over his body and in its wake replaced Loki with an Aesir Guard.
He stood with ease and looked back over his shoulder at the countless other prisoners whom were all in a frenzy over witnessing what he'd done and he gave them all a small sinister smile and an even smaller farewell before venturing out of the dungeons. As he roamed the halls he moved with finesse and a sense of belonging taking time to nod at the few nobles and fellow guards he came into contact with. Once he'd made it beyond the palace he quickened his pace knowing that no one would dare question him now as there would be no suitable reason to, or so he hoped.
Unfortunately he was wrong and he collided none too gently into someone else's heavily armored person. The disguised God opened his mouth ready to give whom ever it was a verbal lashing but he remembered himself, remembered that he was not occupying his true form and that if he acted unusual then he may very well be discovered. So not a moment after opening his mouth did he close it and bite his sharp tongue, pressing his thin lips into a hard line. As his eyes fell on the person that he'd collided with he found their abhorrent eyes on him already and his eyebrows drew together as he eyed none other than Lady Sif. How fitting that he should run into her of all people when he was so close to freedom he could almost taste it. And naturally she appeared to be livid after the rather rough exchange, but then again he could not recall a time that the woman did not seem to be vexed.
"Mind your surroundings next time, Guard, or you shall meet your end at the tip of my sword."
"Ever the Lady aren't you, Sif."
When her features morphed from livid to disbelieving and finally outraged again Loki realized his mistake. Why had he addressed the warrioress with such familiarity? He just could not help himself, he had to mess with her if at all possible but this time might very well have been his undoing.
"First you pay ill attention to your surroundings and then you address me as though we were kindred. I ought to cut out that tongue of yours for your lack of civility –-"
"That will not be necessary, my Lady, I apologize regretfully if I have offended you with my vulgarity it will not happen again I can assure you." Loki bowed deeply at the waist before bringing his gaze back to Sif's face and he feigned a look of remorse to further sell his claim. "I was only attempting a light jest and I can see it was not received well so I will not make the mistake again. Nor will I make the mistake of blindly running into you for you see it was purely an inaccuracy I was just eager to commence with my very short break and I did not wish to waste any time. If it would make, my Lady, feel better I shall apologize as profusely as necessary."
Her features relaxed a bit as he broke out into his apologetic speech and he seemed to be getting through to the humanity in her. Sif gave a slight waving of her hand as if to silently brush off his attempts, "Let us forget this odd exchange. It does not need to be brought up again so long as you keep yourself on a much shorter leash."
"Yes, my Lady, certainly." Loki absolutely loathed the idea of respecting the barbaric woman so excessively especially when she'd done nothing to deserve it, and he had half a mind to roll his eyes to the high heavens but refrained.
"Please, stand, there is no need to bow for me. Now, run along and enjoy what is left of your time away from duty."
Loki stood elegantly and gave her a subtle nod before making his way around the Goddess. He could feel her beady, little eyes following him with traces of confusion, curiosity, and uncertainty within them no doubt. But he did not dare chance a look back at her for that would make any suspicion she had fester. So he kept his sights ahead of him with one thought in mind: make it to the beach.
His feet were moving so swiftly that he wasn't certain if he was running or not, but after what seemed to be only a matter of minutes he'd made it to the shoreline. Out of pure habit and paranoia of what had only just taken place he finally looked back over his shoulder and his eyes, instead of landing on a hoard of soldiers ready to take him back to the palace as he'd been expecting, landed on the wall that wrapped around the palace his face becoming even more grim as the memory of what he'd had to do to allow for said wall to be built resurfaced in his mind. How could anyone look at that wall and say he lacked commitment and fealty to Asgard? He'd shapeshifted into a mare and lain with a steed to help the kingdom and still they chose only to acknowledge all of his wrongdoings as opposed to all the courageous and self less acts he'd done –- which were few and far between but still existed no less.
Loki pried his eyes away from the damned wall and looked out over the brilliantly clear and sparkling ocean of Asgard. To get to one of his secret pathways he'd need a ship and with a fluid waving of his hands he materialized a typical Asgardian astral ship, one that would not draw attention of any sort as stealthiness was key. When he boarded the small and unspectacular vessel he set an average speed, not going too slow nor too fast but just quick enough to stay below the radar though he moved efficiently with purpose and practiced precision wanting to waste no time as he was sure his time was wearing thin for it would only be a matter time before another guard stumbled upon his fallen comrades. Then Odin would be notified of his disappearance and Asgard would be quarantined and vigilant –- all of the Aesir on the lookout for the treasonous adoptive son of Odin –- and escape would be null.
As he skimmed the top of the water with the ship he ran through all of the realms in his mind at lightning speed. Of the nine only eight were at his disposal currently –- Alfheim, Vanaheim, Helheim, Muspelheim, Svartalfheim, Jotunheim, Nidavellir and Midgard. Jotunheim could be crossed off of the list instantaneously, after crossing Laufey and setting out to destroy the realm altogether there would surely be no way he would be able to make it on the desolate and inanely frozen hunk of rock. The Jotuns despised him almost as much as he despised them and he absolutely loathed the idea that he was one of them. And he was certain that if given the chance, and without the express protection of the Allfather and Asgard any longer, they would not hesitate to rip him limb from limb.
Vanaheim could just as easily be crossed off the list as well. It was Asgards sister realm, the Vanir and Aesir were so similar it made his skin crawl. To leave the realm eternal and trek over to its neighboring realm would be unmistakable suicide. If they even so much as caught a whiff of him they would no doubt transport him right back here themselves so that he might face an even crueler punishment, anything to keep strong ties with Asgard. And if by some chance he did manage to live on the realm undetected he would have to assume the genetic makeup of a citizen akin to Vanir descent so that he might lead a life of normalcy. The thought alone was tiring, having to use such intricate and masterful illusive magic would surely drain him and it was far from worth it.
Helheim was for the dead and lost souls of which he was neither and would not be welcome, Muspelheim was irritatingly warm and not suitable for a Frost Giant no matter how seemingly humane, Svartalfheim was dismal, inhospitable, and godforsaken and no place for anyone in their right mind to want to stay, Nidavellir was home of the dwarves and they were irksome and miserly creatures that would be unbearably awful to live around if they themselves did not give word of him to Odin in return for something, And there was simply no desire in him to be surrounded by the high moralities and disdainful eyes of the light elves in Alfheim, so that really only left one realm –- Midgard.
It shouldn't have been so difficult for him to discern that Midgard would be his destination but it was always wise to run through every option provided. Though he hated the Midgardians and their idiotic ways, hated that it'd been such an impossible feat to enslave their doltish race he had to admit living on the realm would prove the easiest and would be, perhaps, better for him. He could get by just underneath their untrained eye, as it was Midgardians were not terribly observant creatures and minor shifts to his outward appearance and demeanor could be the thing that set him apart from the alien that had sought so hard to rule their mundane little realm. The only serious preparation and alteration he would need to make to himself magically besides his appearance would be an enchantment that would keep him shielded from Heimdall's gaze or else he would be found out.
As he changed the ships direction to the passage that led to Midgard he began to chant the spell low, under his breath, his voice and face holding an intense concentration. Once he was done with the enchantment his body was once again cloaked in the light green hue symbolizing that his spell had been cast. Loki sped up the pace after his spell was cast and he increased the speed even more when his eyes focused on the spot where the passage should be located. His fingers tightened around the lever that controlled the ship pushing it down gradually to continually increase the speed and there was one last gasp of air before he submerged himself and the ship completely underwater, as he went deeper into the ocean he sped up until the ship was at its fastest.
His eyes stung from the rush of water and his lungs burned from being overworked and then there was a series of sparks and scraping as he wormed through the tight passageway. The trip lasted all of a few minutes before he was soaring up through the salty waters of a Midgardian ocean, the ship was moving at a deadly pace and as he broke the surface of the water he lost control. His body when flying unceremoniously toward the shore his head smacking against the soft sands roughly and his vision blurring upon impact.
He could feel impending darkness coming from his current concuss state but his last thoughts before he slipped into a comfortable state of unconsciousness were that he'd done it. He made it off of Asgard and evaded detection. He'd escaped a most horrific fate. For once the odds were in his favor and the ancestors were smiling down on him.
And it had been a long time coming.