A/N: Hey, guys! I know… it's been ages since I started a fanfic, and I'm sorry to anyone who might be following me (ha… ha… ha…). I've been busy. XP (Technically, I'm supposed to be studying now, but I'm sacrificing.)
Anyway, I finally saw Thor: the Dark Worldlast night and I LOVED IT. Haters gonna hate, but Loki is one of my favorite characters. I'm also a huge fan of angst, so when I saw Loki in his cell after he went slightly insane… :DDD That was amazing. I also wanted to know what Loki thought about all of this during his solitude and stuff, so I figured, what the TARDIS; I'll write a fanfic. And thus, here I am skimping on German homework to bring you… Fallen God.
1
Loki stood in brooding silence, watching the prison guards walk away from his cell through his window, which hummed quietly with the power of the impenetrable forcefield that separated Loki from his freedom. He gently massaged his wrists, glad to be free of the ostentatious chains and muzzle he had traveled to Asgard in from Earth following the aftermath of the attack on New York.
A slight sense of humiliation crept into Loki's mind, bringing with it memories of his failure on Earth, only accentuated by the pounding headache raging in his temples. He closed his eyes and tried to wipe Tony Stark's smug smirk from his mind, the deafening roar of the creature, and the dull throb of bruised ribs from the beating he had taken—no, had been given—by… what did the humans call it? Oh, yes… the "Hulk".
A sneer twisted Loki's lip. Humans… such pitifully simple, mindless creatures, elevating monsters and failed science experiments to the status of heroes, practically worshipping their little happy accidents that defended their beloved freedom.
Fools.
Opening his eyes, he glanced around at the cell. The walls were replaced by wide, floor to ceiling windows that allowed the guards to keep the prisoners in constant surveillance; each of the windows was charged with a powerful forcefield with enough energy to kill the prisoner if he maintained physical contact with it for too long. The cell itself, however, was curious. While the other cells in the dungeons were completely bare, Loki's cell had a few meager furnishings—a bed, chair, a table, and a few meaningless, but attractive, decorations.
His mind wandering again, he thought of his reception in Asgard upon his and Thor's return… Thor. A wave of dark, twisted anger woke inside of him, but he forced it back, retaining his blank expression and continuing to stare silently ahead.
The instant he and Thor had materialized inside the throne room of Asgard, they had been surrounded by guards, their weapons leveled at Loki. Thor, refusing to meet Loki's defiant glare, had stepped away from the crowd and walked to where Odin, the Allfather, stood watching, his face expressionless. He exchanged a few brief words with Thor, who, after a moment or two, left with a few guards with the Tesseract, likely to one of hidden vaults for safekeeping, one of the securest places for one of the Infinity stones.
Odin finally turned to look at Loki, his face still blank, unblinking in the sudden coolness of Loki's stare. A wall of ice seemed to spring up between them, impenetrable and unforgiving.
The sound of footsteps distracted the two of them, and they both turned to see Frigga walking towards them, a mixture of relief and sadness written on her face as her eyes met her son's.
"Loki," she said, her voice equally torn between emotions. She brushed the hair from his eyes, gently, taking in the cuts and bruises on his face he had received from Banner. She turned to Odin, a slight look of disapproval written in her face.
"Our son has returned, and I find him muzzled and chained, like an animal," she said. Loki could hear a hint of an accusatory tone in his mother's voice. "Has he not suffered enough humiliation for his foolishness?"
"The prisoner is a murderer, Frigga, one who has destroyed the lives of many for his own petty desires. Death has been the sentence for far less," Odin replied simply, emotionlessly.
"The prisoner," Frigga shot back suddenly, "is your son." She turned to the guards, drawing herself up to her full height. "Release the muzzle from the prisoner," she demanded.
The guards obeyed, and Loki breathed in the fresh air deeply, nodding curtly at his mother. He saw the sadness in her eyes deepen, her heart breaking over the lost innocence of her child. She sighed and rested her hand on his shoulder.
"Oh, Loki…" she whispered. "What have I done wrong to cause you to become this?"
A pang of regret struck him, unbidden, choking his anger and desire for revenge, silencing the cries of his wounded pride, and—
"Enough," Odin's voice cut through Loki's thoughts. The moment passed; the regret vanished, his frigid anger restored.
Odin turned to the guards, ignoring Loki's icy glare. "Strip the prisoner of his armor and weapons; use such search methods as are necessary to ensure that you have done your job. Take him, then, to the dungeons; he will remain imprisoned in his cell until I decide his fate."
The guards bowed and took hold of Loki's arms; he stiffened in their grasp, but resisted the urge to fight back. He finally turned away from his father as the guards lead him from the room; as he left, however, he could still feel the pained gaze of his mother follow him from the hall.
Loki picked up a decorative sphere on the side table of his cell and examined it with detached interest. He tossed the ball up in the air, watching it spiraling rapidly as it left his hand, and caught it deftly as it descended. He tossed it again, caught it. Up. Down. Up. Down…