Characters: Loki, Thor, Frigga, Odin, Loki's Children
Notes: Dedicated to Hella whose story got me sucked into this fandom :D. Unbetaed and all mistakes are mine.
White walls surrounded three sides of the room while a huge window dominated the fourth wall. The window overlooked a beautiful garden teaming with flowers and other plant life. A brown table sat near the window with a single chair. In the center of the room, sat a round bed with pale green blankets and pillows scattered across it.
Slowly, Loki slipped from the covers and walked across the room. His bare feet made hardly a sound on the cold stone floor. He gently placed a hand on the glass before flinching from the wards that surrounded it. The gold bracelets on his arms shimmered a warning and a soft sigh escaped him. He stared at his reflection which shimmered in the glass. It showed his limp raven hair straggling across his thin shoulders, grey bruises stood out clearly under his haunted green eyes, gaunt cheekbones reflected little food, and a unhappy smile graced his lips.
For months, he had languished inside this cell after being brought back to Asgard to be punished for his crimes. Odin had not been to pleased with his actions and had banished him to solitude. It had been a lighter sentence for the atrocities that he had committed and not many of the people had been happy with the king's verdict.
He had been shocked by his fath-Odin's leniency as there were other more unsavory punishments that could have lasted a few decades. Odin probably had a wise plan placing him in this magical cell. Perhaps the All-father wanted him to reflect on his pass misdeeds and learn from his mistake. Or possibly to get him out of the public eye for a time until egos and anger had been soothed. Still, solitary confinement was not something he relished or enjoyed.
Loki turned around and slide down the cold glass window. He ignored the crackling magic and stared down at his white prison clothes. Besides the clothes and bracelets, nothing else adorned his slim form. He was not allowed to wear his warrior gear, his favorite robes, or even any shoes. He wiggled his pale pink toes and couldn't help but think he hated white. It was all around him except for a few hints of color and it annoyed him. It reminded him of the healing wards or what the healers wore. Each time he had spent with the healers had not been a pleasant memory and he always associated them with white.
His green eyes closed tiredly and he thumped his head against the glass. Magic flowed through his form but when he tried to cast, barely a spark glowed on his finger tips. The cell's wards were slowly draining all his magic away and he could not use it to escape. How well Odin had planned his prison cells, but somehow he doubted that his fath—Odin would know that it would someday house his adopted son.
A loud thunderous boom caused Loki to jerk against the glass before glancing outside. Heavy rain came tumbling down from the dark clouds in the sky and lightening flashed. A small smile graced Loki's lips and he wondered if Thor was home.
The thunder rumbled ominously overhead again and rattled the windowpane. He watched as the trees and plants were tossed angrily in the wind. A kaleidoscope of colors flew by the window and he wondered if the flowers had given up the fight to keep their petals. Rain coated the glass in smears causing the world to take on a blurry dream like quality while lightening streaked across the sky.
Loki stretched out a hand towards the dark blurry clouds that he could vaguely see as if in supplication. Rain was said to be a cleansing force and what better way to wash the bitterness from his skin. He ached to be outside in the rain, letting it pelt his skin and make him almost shiver from the cold. It made him curious if the rain was warm like bath water gone tepid or icy cold like the lakes in winter.
When lightening crackled across the sky, he watched as it jumped from different clouds before dissipating. He wanted to be able to see his brother again and to talk to him as he once did as a child. They would always have serious discussion when it rained and bared their souls to each other. He watched as it began to rain harder and the thunder boom even louder. A part of him wondered if Thor was upset or sad about something as the weather always reflected his mood.
Rising from the cold floor, he walked back to the bed and buried himself under the warm fluffy covers. The rain kept falling all night long and he watched it in longing.
The eclipse slowly covered the moon and darkness spread across the land. A ring of red of fire encircled the dark shape and it glowed eerily. Clouds slowly swept across the sky obscuring the stars and the eclipsed moon.
Loki stared up at the darkened sky as he slowly brushed his raven hair. It had grown longer then he liked and now tangled easily. A hint of disgust chased across his features before he flung the brush at the window. It bounced off it harmlessly before it clattered to the floor. He held up his hand to the darkened moon and traced it with one finger. The red reminded him of his time with the Chitauri when all had been bathed in a sea of blood.
The Chitauri encircled him with their snarling grotesque features and pale grey skin. Their forms kept shape shifting to different creatures more gruesome then the last as if to scare him into frightened submission. A few yards away sat their Master Thanos, whose gleaming white teeth shone in the dim light and cruel glowing eyes gazed down upon them from his throne littered with the bones of the dead. He wanted The God of Mischief and Chaos to obey him and bow down at his feet. This Asgardian-Jotun creature would be his just as the Chitauri and other races were his.
Loki glared back at the purple Titan and his red eyes glinted. Strange symbols and lines marked his blue cheeks which swirled around his brow. A sickly smile stretched across chapped lips and razor sharp teeth gleamed. His hands were shaped into claws and he flexed them in readiness. Normally he would not take on his Frost Giant form, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
When Thanos raised his right arm Loki tensed and the Chitauri attacked.
A snarl of endless rage escaped Loki's control and he rushed to meet them. Frost flew threw the air and pale blue ice pierced his foes. Nailing them into the ground or in the air like bloody carcasses. Screams of agony echoed throughout the battlefield as those foolish enough to touch him felt frost bite rendered their limbs useless. Blood and gore flew through the air as Loki rendered any to close to him into pieces. He savagely ripped into his foes pulling out great chunks of intestines, hearts, lungs, and whatever else his claws could grab. Green fire ignited on many of the Chitauri at random that no amount of smacking or rolling would put out. Manic laughter escaped him, while howls of anguish and anger came from his foes.
They would not break him with their overwhelming number, their shape shifting abilities, or their weapons. Loki would not let anyone break him. Not these creatures, his father, his people, or anyone else that would try. Nothing in all the universe would stop him and he would survive this battle.
It did not surprise him when Thanos soon grew bored with the battle and entered the fray. The Chitauri not wise enough to see him were crushed by his power or thrown into the air. Cries of dismay echoed from the dead and dying, but know one moved to help them. All eyes were locked on Thanos and Loki. The two met with a shriek of magic and a spray of blood.
Loki dung his right hand into Thanos' chest and pushed with all his might. He felt skin and bone part beneath his claws, while green fire and ice tried to work its way in. A satisfied gleam shone in his eyes as he gazed at his enemy in hatred. Loki felt a moment of fear when he noticed that Thanos did not flitch from the pain, but stared at him in disinterest.
A punch to his chest had him flying backward until he crashed into the dead bodies strewn about. One of his lungs collapsed and he coughed violently trying to breath. A booted foot slammed into his sternum and dark blood sprayed into the air. He cried out in agony as Thanos stomped down on as if he was bug under his giant boot. Loki tried fight him off but Thanos' power proved much stronger then his own.
The Chitauri cheered loudly as their leader crushed their enemy beneath his feet.
"Submit!" Thanos hissed at him quietly.
Loki gave a dark laugh. Submit? He did not want to submit. Warrior's rage burned through his blood and he wanted to kill his foe. Crush him into a purple pulp until nothing was left of him. Suddenly, a spark of reason appeared his mind and soothed his rage. If he did not submit then he would die here under this disgusting tyrant's booted feet. His vengeance against his foes would be lost forever. He would lose his vengeance against Thor, his father Odin, and all the others that wronged him. It galled him to submit to this creature, but technically it would not be true submission. He would use his silver tongue to trick his foe into believing it and when the time was right he would strike out against him.
Letting himself fade into his Asgardian form, Loki gazed up at Thanos with innocent green eyes and said, "I submit to you, my Lord Thanos."
Loki chuckled bitterly. He had submitted and the end for naught. The Avengers had beaten him and here he languished in Odin's prison. Still, the Chitauri had lost as well and had not gained the Tesseract which they had wanted. A pleased smile crossed his face and for a moment green flame glowed in his hands. It was snuffed out quickly by the runes, but Loki did not mind. Someday, Thanos' head would be ripped from his shoulders and Loki would have his revenge.
Loki laid his hands palm up on the brown table and gazed down at them. He slowly traced each line that showed up on his right palm and slowly squeezed it into a fist. His thoughts slowly wandered to the mortal Phil Coulson of SHIELD and a grudging respect filled him. The man had more courage then many of his race and had not been afraid to stand up to a god such as he. Even when all hope was lost, he still had the gall to say his words and fire off that weapon.
"You lack conviction."
The honest statement in the mortal's voice and the way he had seen through his lies had startled him. That mistake had caused him to be shot through a steel wall and the pain had been excruciating. If the mortal had been alive today then Loki would have words with him. Alas, he knew he had fatally stabbed the agent and his soul now rested in Hel.
Of course the pain had been worth it when he pushed the button before and watched his brother plummet like a wounded bird from the sky. He had known Thor would survive the fall as he was not fragile like these mortals and he had his hammer with him. Still, a perverse side of him had wished his brother had died and then he would finally be free of his shackles. To know longer have his brother look at him with expectations of him or be able to see into his soul clearly.
A loud sigh escaped him and he slammed his slender hands on the table. Tapping the surface, his mind turned back to the mortal and his final words. A cruel smile appeared on his face and his green eyes glowed eerily. Perhaps when he had the time, he would find away down there to talk to the mortal and show his conviction to him. That is if he could get pass the hell hounds and other gatekeepers who resided there.
His mind turned towards the Avengers who worked for SHIELD and the other agent Nick Fury.
He had no wish to tangle with the Green Giant called Hulk as being slammed repeatedly into the floor had hurt like Hel. There was no reasoning with the giant beast and he had a feeling he would lose against him each time. Still, if he was able to catch him quickly enough in human form then perhaps he could devise a strategy to kill him.
The one known as Hawk Eye or Clint brought a pleased smile to his lips. That man had been a fun one to mess with and warp his mind to his liking. He had been very easy to slip under his guard and control him. Not many mortals had any defense against mind control except for the most powerful ones. If he ever got his hands him again then he would teach him to not point arrows at a god.
The red head Natasha made a cruel smile appear on his face and he tapped the table with a sharp nail. He would not mind slowly torturing the woman for her deceit and yet he couldn't help but admire her. She knew how to use her cunning and lies like a shield. She almost reminded him of himself when he had been young, but not as transparent. It was almost impossible to deceive the God of Lies and Mischief unless you were Odin.
Captain America had not interested him to much as he seemed a bit naïve and honorable. Almost like a copy of Thor, but without the muscled and hammer. And Nick Fury was more like a nuisance then anything else.
The one known as Man of Iron or Tony Stark intrigued him the most out of all the Avengers. His intellect was astonishing and maybe a match for his own. It was rare to find a mortal who interested him and did not make him want to kill it or enslave it. Perhaps someday he would talk to the mortal and find out just how smart he was.
And as for Thor, theirs was a relationship of love and hate that had been going on for a millennium. He had plenty of time to think about what he would want to do to his brother when he was free. After all, he had all the time in the world to plot and plan while waiting for his sentence to end. That is if he got out of this prison before to much time had passed and the mortal Avengers were all dead.
Loki leaned against the window. He could see his brother slowly walking through the garden and he wondered what was on his mind. Did his brother think of him, did he miss him, or did he hate him for everything he had done? So many thoughts ran through Loki's mind that a tired sigh escaped him. He wished he could go down into the gardens and talk to his brother. To tell him that he had been angry and hurt by the truth of his origin. And that he had been especially hurt by their father and the secrets kept from him.
A small portion of himself knew that he would never tell his brother any of this as he did not like to bare his soul. To give another dominion to break him was foolish and he was not a trusting soul. Perhaps if he was still young then he would have done it but no longer. Now, he would rather fabricate lies then bare himself to anyone even to his older brother who he trusted above anyone. Still, he couldn't help but trace his brother's image in the glass and wish that he would not spin anymore lies.
The bed felt comfortable as he sprawled across it and stared up at the ceiling. His raven hair stood out against his white pillows and his pale skin gleamed against the light green sheets.
He had so many names that sometimes he wasn't to sure which one he should be called. The God of Lies, Mischief, and Chaos. The God of Fire. Loki Odinson. Loki Laufeyson. Loki the Traitor. All these names fit him and yet they did not. He wondered if over the next millennia he would soon lose his sense of self and no longer care what he was called. A sigh escaped him and he rolled over onto his stomach.
He wondered what his former wives would think of him having these thoughts.
Beautiful Angrbooda, with long midnight blue hair and symbolic tattoos splayed across her fair skin with a fur cloak made out of white bear hide that draped her curvy form. Her multiple bone and leather bracelets would jingle on each slender wrist when she would point at him. She liked to point when she found him being to ridiculous or just plan stupid. Her dark eyebrows would slant over her flashing black eyes and her ruby red lips would be pulled down into a frown. How fierce she would look when she would tell him to stop worrying about something so stupid as a name. That everyone acclimated many names during their long life and that it was much worse for a god. She would then take him into her arms and tell him that the name Loki or husband was what she preferred to call him.
Fair Sigyn, with golden hair, pale skin like the moon, and blue eyes. She had not been to fond of worrying over trifle matters such as names or other peoples opinions. Sigyn, was known to be quite cold to those she didn't know and had a blunt way with words. She would probably have rolled her eyes at him and told him to stop being so foolish. That if he worried to much then he would prematurely go grey and she didn't like that hair color on her spouse. It might look good on Odin, but it would not on Loki who was thousands of years younger. She would also point out that if he could survive the deaths of his twin sons and snake venom dripping on his writhing body while she had to empty out the bowl, then he could survive being called a dozen names.
A pleased smile appeared on his face and he brushed his worries aside. He wondered how Sigyn was doing in the after life with his twin sons and if Angrbooda was still causing trouble some where with their three children?
He longed to see his family again.
The glass felt cool against his finger tips. He carefully splayed his fingers against it and felt the power vibrant under his finger tips. From the corner of his left eye, he could make out the magic overlapping the window before running into the runes embedded into the wall. Loki took a deep breath before pushing against the glass with his weakened magic. Patiently he pushed against the glass. His fingers began to slowly phase through the glass and he could almost feel the air outside. Triumph blazed through his soul and he pushed harder then before.
Suddenly, crackling energy seared into his fingers and with a loud cry he was thrown across the room. He skidded across the slick stone floor before his back hit the wall. Agony jolted through his body and he cried out. The rune magic ruthless attacked his system and he twitched like a mad thing on the floor. It felt like hours until the magic finally dissipated and he could sprawl on the floor. Sweat trickled down his face and slid into his raven hair. When the pain was bearable he forced himself to his feet and tried to control his ragged breathing. Staggering to the bed, he collapsed among the downy blankets and closed his eyes. Tears slid into the blankets and he clutched it in frustration.
Enraged, he sat up and threw the bedding onto the floor. Ragged raven hair fell across his forehead and hid his agonizing green eyes. He gripped the long locks and pulled them harshly. The white walls felt like they were closing in on him and he couldn't help but rock in place. It was ironic that after everything he had been through in his immortal life, that solitude was slowly breaking him. Not the torture from his enemies, the revelations about his birth, his defeat, or his humiliation. A lone tear slid down his cheek before crystallizing and falling onto the bed. He couldn't help but wish for a harsher punishment at this time. It had been ages since he had heard another voice, been in anyone's presence, or even touched another's skin.
The solitude was slowly driving him insane and he didn't know how much more he could take. His fragile mind was already slipping further into his madness and it was only so long that he could fight it off. Sleep was eluding him as well and the thought of food made him nauseous. Each time a plate of food would magically appear before the door, he would turn away in disgust and leave it there till it vanished. An Asgardian could live a long time without sustenance or sleep, but eventually they would die.
A crazed laugh escaped him. "The irony!" He shouted hoarsely.
It had been a long time since he last spoken and his voice was broken from disuse. He wondered how much longer he had before insanity set in?