Twenty paces in one direction…Ten paces in the other. Loki walked his cell again and again, plotting, scheming.

He sat down. He placed his head in his hands. What was the use?

He scanned his cage again. Sparse furnishings, though luxurious compared to what the other prisoners were supplied. No doubt because of his mother. He stood and crossed to a small pile of books haphazardly splayed across his floor, knocked down from his last fit of pacing. Kneeling over them, he picked up a thin green volume, mulling over the title, silently wondering how she knew just what he would want with him…

He shook his head slightly, dispelling thoughts of his mother, of his…family. The word felt foreign even inside of his own head. Had he truly any family?

No matter. Perhaps it was better to fill his head with books rather than of…other things. He chose the first book from the stack and laid himself down, opening the pages over his head. He barely even made it through the first quarter when he threw the book down and turned over. His cell was a mess. Not only were there the books he almost tripped over, but his blankets had been thrown to the floor, and his very limited number of possessions were stacked about in an unorganized manner on the table in the corner. He smirked thinking his mother would try to scold him for such a thing.

Scold him for having a messy room…while he was a prisoner of war. Surely, she wouldn't. All the same, he twisted up the corners of his mouth and thought for a solid minute about getting up to clean. Turning over suddenly, he decided against it. He propped himself up on his side to observe the prisoner across from him. Disgusting…not worth further comment. His stomach lurched when he again realized how far his mother must have gone to procure him the furnishings she had. Not to mention the books. Where she would even find those particular volumes was a mystery to him.

Loki's eyes continued to scan, noting that the cell of that prisoner was spotless. Maybe he has a maid, he chuckled to himself, realizing that it was more than likely just threats that kept his living area clean. Though he'd been there scarcely a week, Loki imagined that Odin's ego would get quite the kick from parading guests through these halls, showing off his prisoners like caged animals in a zoo. Loki scowled. There must be some way out.

He looked down again at the mess in his cell. Surely, his mother would have enough presence of mind to keep from scolding him for it, but did she hold enough sway to keep Odin from making good on the threats he suspected were given to the other prisoners?

He'd certainly like to find out.

As it turns out, he didn't have to wait long. The next day Frigga showed up, appearing in a spiral of lights. Loki did not move from his bed, nor turn to face her.

She breathed in sharply.

"Son…"

Loki smirked without joy but gave no other signs of irritation.

Frigga moved to sit beside him on the bed. Loki shifted his position sharply so that he sat upright.

"Odin-" Loki noted that she no longer addressed him as "your father" while in his presence "-brought through some of his more…fastidious guests the night previous. I believe you were asleep."

"That's generally what I do at night, yes."

"They couldn't help but notice the state of your…of your room."

Loki turned his head to face her. "My room? Have you been in here? Are you not here with me now? This is not a room." He stood, and turned dramatically around the room, his arms opened widely. "This… is a cage."

Frigga's lips tightened into a straight line.

"Son," she swallowed as Loki's eyes narrowed, "I am trying to protect you. Odin is too proud to come and see you," here Loki again smiled without feeling, "but I, as your mother, must warn you."

"Of what?" He asked, wringing his hands behind his back.

Frigga stood, moving with Loki to look out into the passageway.

"Have you not looked around you? Does it not occur to you that every room but yours has something in common?"

Loki feigned a thoughtful expression. "Less furniture? I guess being the ex-Prince does come with a few perks."

Frigga inhaled sharply. "If you do not keep this room," her expression was like a slap in his face, "presentable, Odin will punish you. He has done so to others before."

Loki bore no discernable expression.

"If you think he will have mercy on you because you're his…" she paused. "If you think he'll show you any favoritism, you're mistaken. Everything you have here," she imitated her son's earlier actions by twirling about the room, "is because of me." She tapped him on the chest, her nonexistent finger delving into his chest. "Your heart beats because of me."

Loki chuckled, amused by his mother's fire-like spirit. "I see. Because my birthright was to die, was it not? Is that what Odin will do to me. Kill me?"

She backed away. Looking out of the cell, she pointed to the prisoner across the passage. The one Loki had thought of only as disgusting. "Do you see him?"

Loki nodded.

"I'm sure you've noticed the state of his room."

Loki would not give her the satisfaction of acknowledging her statement.

"It's spotless, is it not?"

He remained silent.

"Tell me, have you ever heard that prisoner make any noise? Has he ever spoken in the entirety of your stay?"

Loki sighed, "Do you have a point? I doubt I would be able to hear him through this," he tapped the field around his cell, "anyway."

Frigga stiffened. "Look at him."

Loki rolled his eyes. "I have. Believe me, there was nothing very noteworthy in his appearance."

Frigga met his eye, unflinching. "Look again."

Loki reluctantly acquiesced to his mother's wishes, looking again at his neighbor. He also appeared to be Asgardian, but where Loki was lean and handsome, the man across from him was short, squat, and unappealing. His face was obscured by an unruly beard and his hair puffed out from his head like a lion's mane. Loki stared, unimpressed, until at last his eyes widened.

"By the Norns, is Odin truly so cruel?"

Frigga swallowed, gazing down at her hands. "Starting tomorrow you will be visited by a servant. Please do not refuse their help. I do not know for how long Odin will allow your behavior to continue." Frigga disappeared without another word.

Loki returned to his bed. He sat on the edge, eyes glazed, running his fingers across his lips. Wondering the pain that man had endured when they'd been sewn shut.