Thor had taken him to Asgard, to stand trial for his crimes and to receive his 'rightful' punishment, and wasn't that just great.
They departed two days after his initial capture, for SHIELD felt the need to interrogate him, as did the Avengers and he had seen every single one of them for far longer then he cared.
Loki only cared about one, seeing one person, the man who was responsible for that incredible feeling that was still flowing through his body.
The rich black silver clinging to his bones, and ask him „Why?" and „How?".
Anthony Stark, the Man of Iron.
But of course the one he wanted to talk to, the one he wanted to tear open and see, that had been the one which whom he only had moments in private, if at all really, the longest being a brief talk about what was going to happen, the merits of chaos, trading insults and Stark tending to the wounds SHIELD had inflicted on him in a pitiful attempt of interrogation.
Or revenge.
Probably revenge.
The light banter between them had been irrationally soothing, and the man's touch on his skin electrifying as it sent even more liquid sparks of the heady silver aura over his skin.
Then Thor came, telling him that everything was prepared for their departure and taken him away.
As he stood before his bro- Thor in chains and muzzled like an animal, sharp metal spikes boring into his tongue, holding it still, he didn't look at anyone, didn't want to see the hatred or, the nine forbid, pity.
So instead he just grabbed the other end of the contraption Thor held towards him, feeling Odin's disgustingly bright golden magic and the Tesseract in the middle, and twisted it's handle as expected of him.
Loki remembered his last travel with the space-gem, stepping from his torturers chamber into the SHIELD facility in the blink of an eye, but this time it felt different.
Different, as in that instead of opening a neat little door, Odin's magic bound them to the object for a short time and they got pulled. Pulled through emptiness and darkness.
The Void.
And for a moment, a minute, ages, eons he was lost again, falling instead of being pulled and remembered the ember of worship flickering out, panic clutching at his mind- -
And then he was in Asgard.
Falling to one knee, Loki tried to gasp for air that his muzzle didn't allow him, feeling faint and jittery.
If it hadn't been for Anthony, the black, silver liquid caging his bones and his body and his mind, he'd probably have lost himself in the greedy emptiness of The Void, and by the gods he hoped that he'd never again have to feel that.
For onlookers eyes it was all but moments till he had gathered himself again, but internally he was still reeling and failed to react as the guards hurriedly clasped shackles around his feet and neck, connection them with a chain, around his hips for leverage, then practically dragging him to the dungeons.
He knew how to walk, thank you very much!
It was, what he assumed, the second day, when guards came to guide him to the great throne room, this time thankfully without any dragging.
So here he stood, still muzzled, bound and unable to defend himself, in front of the Allfather's wretched golden throne, to his far left and right the counsel, at his immediate side - Thor.
Thor, the only one possibly willing to speak in his defence, had been traitorously silent up until now, and stayed it, just until the council voiced his opinion to sentence him twice.
Once in the dungeons, for his wrongings against Asgard.
Once under command of a mortal, for his wrongings against Midgard and - What?!
His bro- Thor, stayed silent, even when they discussed the duration of his stay in the dungeons (they didn't come to a conclusion), and for all Thor looked like he wanted to speak, no, to smash, stir and pulverise them with his damned hammer, he only spoke once the decision of which mortal he was to serve came up.
"Father, I recommend my Shield-brother Anthony of Stark, the Man of Iron." the prince spoke, and Loki did his very best not to react to the name. What was the oaf doing?! Odin though was silent for a moment.
"And why would that be, Thor?"
"The portal that Loki opened was located on Anthony's Tower, the centre of his empire, using his power source, and he suffered considerable damage. He was the one to destroy the Chitauri's army with a single weapon that he flew through the portal himself."
"And you deem this your reason to recommend that mortal?"
"No." Thor answered, and Loki could see the surprise in Odin's face, could feel his own surprise as well.
"Anthony, Son of Stark is smart, father. Impressively so. He easily unravelled and exposed Loki's plans, reasons and intentions, how I have never seen anyone do it. I believe that he is the only mortal you could hand Loki to, who has the resources to keep him in check, and the wit not to be manipulated."
The Allfather looked thoughtful, and Loki, internally, wanted to hug that stupid hammer swinging oaf, and congratulate him for finally using that skull of his for other things than head butting.
If this worked, he owed him one for that, truly.
"Has Loki done him any other personal offence?"
"Aside from using the monument that carries Anthony's very name on it? Loki threw him out of a window."
The Allfather raised an unimpressed eyebrow, and Loki felt the sudden, desperate urge to face palm.
"From a height that equals the top of the palace. A deadly drop, not only for mortals." Better.
"Oh." Odin only said, looked thoughtful and after a moment stood up, "The trial hereby ends. In the morrow I will personally inform Loki of his sentence. Take him back to the cell."
He got taken away, back to the small cubicle that had held him before, surrounded by glass walls and not even a chair in it.
So all he could do was sit on the floor and wait.
Without thought he brushed the silver near his ribs with magic, enjoying the calming warmth it gave off when doing it, then finally letting sleep wash over him after a while.
What he assumed was the next morning Odin and two guards stepped in front of the glass wall of his cell.
"Loki Laufeyson. " the Allfather spoke, and Loki felt biting cold terror in the pit of his stomach for that name alone, "You will be held in Asgard's dungeons for a time not yet decided and be reprimanded for your crimes against Asgard. Following that you will be handed over to Midgard, to pay for your crimes against those."
Odin lifted a hand and focused entirely on him, and Loki could feel it, feel Odin's horrid golden magic clawing over his too tight skin.
"I hereby relieve you of my name, of your title as Prince, of your right to reside in Asgard aside from your punishment, and-" Loki suddenly felt heat burn on his skin, "I hereby relieve you of the false Aesir skin which I had gifted to you so long ago, for you have forsaken it."
Loki's mind stuttered to a complete stop.
"What?!" He gasped, "No, NO! You can't do that, Odin! You can't-" slamming a fist against the, of course, golden magically reinforced glass, he saw it.
The blue of his skin, something between cerulean and lapis lazuli, the ridges on it, the - Oh by the -
Suddenly pain exploded in his head and he pressed his cold hands (not cold enough!) against his temples and bumped into a - a -
Horn.
A horn, there were horns growing out of his skull and by the nine why was it so hot?!
Loki felt how panic and horror made the adrenalin flooding through his body which in turn made the temperature around him blissfully drop, and there was ice blooming on the glass in front of him, and -
"Raise the temperature of the cell until he passes out, then take him to the dungeons and do what you must." Odin spoke, barely audible over the screaming of blood in Loki's suddenly very sensitive ears, seeing the man he once called father turning around and - it was too bright.
Everything, everything was flooded in light, too bright, too bright, too hot, too small, too loud and it hurt.
It hurt and burnt and roared -
And then?
Then there was darkness.
