This story will contain an OC and torture. It will not include: OC pairing, Loki being tortured into a quivering mass of pleading, or (hopefully) characters acting out of character. This is based exclusively on movieverse (and comicverse), and I hope to feature brothers, family and friends.
Let's begin!
So I held my head up high
Hiding hate that burns inside
Which only fuels their selfish pride
The god of mischief stood in regal glory before the family who lied to him every day of his life. It was a relief now, to know why he had always struggled to keep himself a part of their happenings, their culture. Their world. Not his, nor ever his. Did they regret the All-Father's act of mercy so many years ago? Perhaps they had taken great pleasure in their own perverse kindness, to take on a son cast out by his own race and raise him as one of their own. Now they saw the fruits of that folly in color and life – and the deaths he had caused.
Are you proud of what you chose, All-Father? Would you choose it again if you had the chance?
They left both gag and chains in place, though this was not his trial. They did not want to hear his silver tongue lie or otherwise wound. Odin stared down at him with clenched jaw and sad eye. Thor had the same expression he'd worn on both the mountaintop and Stark's ridiculous tower. An expression of hope against hope. Would the man never learn a lost cause when he saw it laid bare?
He did not look into Frigga's eyes.
"Loki," the All-Father said, and then nothing more. The family stood as one, apart from him and close together. A unit finally free of the burdensome weight draped around all of their necks for so many years. Loki could only stare at them, robbed of the greatest weapon at his disposal. They knew better than to grant him the freedom of speech, lest they hear words designed to maim without striking a single blow.
The guards led him away to imprisonment beneath the grand castle. The cell to house him was sparse and spelled, almost glowing in his sights with the wards against him. His steps stuttered just once when he realized that entering the cell would dull his magical abilities to the point of uselessness. The guards did not notice, or if they did cared not. He was placed in the cell, and only then was the gag released from his mouth. The men departed after removing the metal contraption, and barred the windowless door to prevent sounds from escaping into the night. There was real danger to the realm if Loki were allowed to speak to others, even to the guards who stood outside his cell.
They'd left the chains as extra precaution. Loki smiled to know that he was viewed as such a threat, even among the people of Asgard.
There was a single item of furniture within the cell – a cot low to the floor. No thin blanket or pillow to erase the futility of life within a cell, but the cot was a luxury in a prison such as this. Loki checked the manacles with thorough care now that he was out of the perpetual stare of Thor and the All-Father. The bonds were sealed around all sides to his eye. He scoffed. Paltry magic for a master of sorcery – and yet he could not remove the shackles.
The door's complicated lock creaked and twisted to allow entry. The trickster stood, determined to meet any foe with a straight back and piercing glare. Though he did not receive the visitor expected, he maintained both in the face of her own serene gaze.
"Sit, my son."
Frigga's voice, gentle and patient as the days before his treachery. Loki narrowed his eyes. This was a lie he could no longer tolerate.
"I am not your son, and you not my mother."
His raspy insistence served little purpose. The queen only laughed to herself, and the trickster found himself struggling to continue. Her devotion, so foolishly unwavering, turned his insides to churning with rage. How could she still come to him and call him her son? How could she bear the lie any longer? Her hand rose to touch his face and he drew away. She shook her head and sat on the cot, leaving enough room for him to join should he choose.
He remained standing and peered down at her. He waited for the blow to come, as he'd known it would. In truth he'd expected this sooner, in those moments when he stood bound before his false family and could do nothing but listen to their poison.
"Sit, Loki. I will cleanse your wounds."
He determined not to speak and give her the satisfaction of hearing his voice, though he could not fathom her intentions in this action. Did she think he would fall to his knees before her and beg for forgiveness? He was proud and strong, stronger than his temper-driven brother. He could withstand the draw of that maternal hand.
"Tomorrow the All-Father sentences you. I have requested leniency, a request he granted for the dual voices of your mother and brother."
She did not look relieved as she spoke of this. Instead she searched his face for forgiveness, a sentiment he could not give when he did not realize the extent of her crime. Intrigued by the change in her countenance, he sat next to her. Putting himself within her reach and appearing to accept her ministrations made the likelihood of her speaking increase, and he would hear the tale of woe she felt she needed to confess.
Frigga touched his face now and looked at every visible wound. Her eyes shone bright with false tears, for what other kind could they be? False tears shed for the false son. Loki was still as she produced a healing stone, which she cracked and pressed against his cuts and bruises. He was tempted to remove his outer garments and show her the full extent of his assorted damages, to test the limits of this treachery.
He closed his eyes instead, to block out the concern on her face. Let her think this son was within her grasp. He owed nothing to those who claimed him under the falsest of pretenses. To claim that they loved him as a son!...
"I request now for leniency on myself. Try not to hate your mother, my son. I wish only that you learn the extent of your crimes, without suffering the whole of the pains you have committed."
''The queen is kind, to request clemency for a prisoner.''
''No kinder than she ought be, when that same prisoner and her youngest son are one.''
Loki pursed his lips and remained silent now, allowing her to finish with the cuts on his face. He said nothing until her hands finished their ministrations. He kept his eyes closed, to continue blocking that maternal love which burned against his skin as his cuts sealed shut.
''Know that I meant you no harm, Lady Queen.''
He would never come closer to an apology for his actions than this moment, and Frigga appeared to recognize this when she replied.
''You are forgiven, my son. Yet even a prince of Asgard must face repercussions for grievous crime.'' She gathered herself and left him then, to ponder his actions and her forgiveness alone.
It was Odin who discovered their eldest standing under a covered walkway, gazing out to the shattered Bifrost. Thor was gripping Mjolnir absently, a sign of his need for comforts which he no longer requested from his parents as a grown man. Odin was struck that the last time the two men stood in tandem at this place, Loki was also the cause. The All-Father waited for his son to acknowledge him, which Thor did in a few more moment's time. He was never able to ignore either parent's presence for long. A trait his brother did not inherit.
"Father," the thunder god said, "how fare you?"
"I come seeking your counsel." Thor's surprise infected the All-Father with some urgency. "As future king of Asgard, your counsel is both sought out and welcomed in times of great need. You must learn to make difficult decisions for the good of the kingdom."
Now the surprise mingled with tension. Thor had been approached once about torturing his brother while on Midgard, and though he understood the desperation which fueled the move, he would not soon forget that Nick Fury was the sort of man who saw no ill will in the torture of prisoners. Nor the type of man to hesitate to ask that same prisoner's brother to lay his honor down and take part in such cruelty. Would his father be the same sort of man? And if so, would he as well, after enough years of the crown's weight bent his spine?
"You speak of Loki's detention."
"I do." Odin stepped forth and gazed upon his kingdom. He stood to Thor's left, so that his eye was concealed by his frame and Thor could not see the wetness gathering there. "What is your estimation of his state?"
Thor clenched Mjolnir's handle as he replied, the firm strength a comfort in this dark discussion. "He is corrupted, father. The corruption goes to the core, and I fear it will take many years to dig it out of him." He pondered whether to reveal the rest, and then plunged forward to better inform the king of his prisoner's thoughts. "He refuses to acknowledge us as kin any longer."
Your father. Truth be told, Loki had only once outright denied kinship with Thor, before his fall - only their father was denied, and the shared heritage implied. Thor took some comfort in that thought, and loosened his grip on Mjolnir.
Odin nodded, his eye still hidden from Thor's sight. "Would you say that he would learn from banishment, as you have?" Thor shook his head immediately, before he had chance to truly consider the idea, and his reaction was enough to fuel his doubts into words.
"I learned a great deal from my time on Midgard...but I am not near so skilled a wordsmith as Loki. I fear his talents would take him further than we ever dreamed, even without his magic." Thor tilted his head and outwardly recognized a hard truth about his favored of the Nine. "Humans are drawn to words; they crave that which provides false comfort, and are gullible when the words appear truthful enough. That is a trait which my brother would exploit to great advantage." Thor, in his banishment, never had ambitions toward any kind of Midgardian throne. Loki's own ambitions in regards to Midgard were abundantly clear.
Odin nodded. "A tempered sentence, then. Come, Thor. We will discuss the terms together, as your experience with Midgard is more recent and therefore of great value in this task."