It was fortunate, Loki supposed, that Thor deemed the golden muzzle an unnecessary precaution this time around. Just seeing the damnable contraction in his grasp coaxed an involuntary shudder from him. The metallic taste of it stained his tongue, and he recalled - a metal strip bent over Thor's mouth, muffling his cries, choking hi -
Loki shook himself with a snarl, so focused on dislodging the thought he nearly missed the concerned glance Thor threw him at the motion. A spark of shame burned within him, quickly and hastily extinguished.
Honestly. Let Thor fear for his sanity. What else was new?
Their little procession of battle-weary heroes stopped in the middle of Central Park over the tile circle. It wasn't necessary, really. Heimdall could find and transport Thor across the Nine Realms without such fanfare, though Loki imagined Stark wouldn't have been too pleased if Thor had called down the Bifrost in his living room. None of the Avengers had known what to make of Loki after he'd suddenly and inexplicably changed sides. Many seemed certain that anyone willing to switch allegiances on a dime as he had ostensibly done would inevitably do so again, and they were correct not to trust him. His allegiance did not, however, lie with them.
This was taking longer than it had last time. Loki chanced a glance at Thor to find him hesitating. Oh, for the love of -
"Can we get a move on, already?" Thor started, the others tensed, and Barton plucked an arrow from his quiver, aiming it at Loki's heart in a single, deft motion. Ignoring their reactions, Loki seized Thor's arm by the wrist, and yanked it towards the sky, pointing Mjolnir at the heavens, "Heimdall, open the Bifrost!"
It was a pleasant surprise when a rainbow-colored rift indeed opened above, pouring down in a perfect circle and transporting them with a burst of heat and a slight lurch in their chests. Once their transportation was complete, Heimdall greeted Thor from the height of his circular pedestal. "Prince Thor," he intoned respectively, his golden irises piercing. They fell on Loki, taking in his lack of shackles with a furrowed brow.
"I have brought Loki home, Heimdall." And Thor sounded so proud, so elated. Like bringing home his wayward, traitor brother was some kind of achievement. Then again, perhaps it was, though not in the way Thor hoped.
Fixing Loki with an unwavering gaze, Heimdall replied inscrutably, "I can see that."
Thor nodded, taking Loki by the elbow, or attempting to. "Could you inform the Allfather of our arrival?" He frowned at Loki's effortless avoidance, so subtle he barely needed to increase the distance between them at all, yet whenever Thor moved to touch him, his hand passed through air. Quietly, Thor muttered, "You aren't an illusion, are you?"
Rolling his eyes, Loki swiftly kicked him on the shin, spitting when Thor clutched at his leg, "Is that solid enough for you?"
Heimdall tracked the interaction with interest. "He has already been informed, and waits for you in the throne room." Then he climbed down from the pedestal, as though to guide them to the palace. Thor stood at his approach, his eyes bright with pain, but Heimdall merely gestured towards the bridge.
Though uncertain of his intent, Thor began to stride towards the castle, expecting Loki to follow, and Loki would have, had Heimdall not grabbed his shoulder, halting him. "That body does not belong to you."
It was almost enough to draw a cackle from him. Grinning widely, Loki ducked from under his grasp, dancing just out of reach with a gleeful,"I should hardly think that is up to you to decide." A flicker of emotion passed over Heimdall's features as the mischievous mage dismissed his concerns with a flippant wave of his hand. Whatever it may have been, it was more than Loki had managed to coax from the seer during the majority of a millenia. "And besides…" Loki paused at the gate, knowing that Thor would note his absence soon, and yet, "it would have been mine, eventually."
He smirked as he stepped out onto the bridge, stopping only when Heimdall unexpectedly warned, "I should be… displeased if any harm were to come to it whilst it is in your possession, imposter."
Imposter? How rich.
"Too little too late, wouldn't you say?" Drawing back from the seer with a low hiss, Loki bit down on his tongue, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to remind himself of his chosen purpose. It was not to air out old grievances, nor to provoke those who would be his allies against a far greater threat. In his mind's eye, he could still see Heimdall's noble form lying limp and broken on the ground. In a hushed tone, exhausted and devoid of ire, he said, "There is much you don't understand, Heimdall, for one who sees so much." And with that, he set off at a jog to catch up with Thor.
He should have known better than to assume he would be taken directly to the Allfather, though. Despite his heroic actions in stopping the Chitauri invasion he had, in fact, left Asgard shortly after attempting to destroy Jotunheim with the Bifrost and attacking the rightful heir to the throne.
He supposed it didn't matter. So long as he was granted an audience with the king. Or that was what he told himself when the Einherjar led him away to be defanged. The sight of the magic suppressing collar, the chains, hadn't surprised him. It wasn't until they were placing the shackle upon his neck that the metal became flesh, squeezing the life from him, bones crunching, pressure, can't breathe, he'sgoingtodie
"Get that collar off of him! Now!" The pressure released at once, leaving him, though the sensation of a hand around his throat lingered, and Loki coughed violently, warding off those close to him without thought or intent. "Easy, Prince Loki," that oddly familiar voice said softly. "My men will not harm you."
When he was once again the master of himself, Loki realized why. It was the guard who had given him the news of Frigga's death.
He had been kind, then, too.
Averting his face, Loki cleared his throat. "You have my thanks."
The guard nodded curtly, remaining close until he was certain Loki could stand on his own, then gestured for his men to bring the disgraced prince before the king. They hesitated, glancing pointedly at the shackles and chains in their hands, and the guard arched a single brow, conveying much without uttering a word. Though he didn't appear to outrank them so much as merely possess significantly more sense, Loki would have promoted him were it still in his power to do so.
And thus, the traitor was brought before the royal family unhindered. Such a start boded well for what could be a significant improvement upon the first trial, or that was what he'd told himself shortly before setting sights on the Allmother.
He remembered her expression from before - carefully composed, yet so clearly frightened for him. He'd fallen, yes, but he was still hers. Now, however, that expression contorted with confusion, followed by unconcealed anger. She marched across the floor, ignoring Odin's command for her to halt, and struck Loki across the cheek.
The shock stunned him more than the pain. His lips parted as though to speak, but whatever he might have said vanished from his mind upon seeing the wet sheen of tears in her eyes. "You are both my son and his murderer." Her jaw set. "What say you to this?"
Anything he might have planned or rehearsed came apart at the seams. He was prepared to deal with Odin's suspicion, Odin's ire, but not hers. Never. "I promise you it was the only way," he told her truthfully. "Asgard was gone. Thor was…"
"And were you responsible, Laufeyson?" The Allfather interrupted, missing the wrathful glare his queen cast in his direction. "Was it you who brought disaster and ruin upon Asgard?" Much of the suspicion had faded from the Allmother - she had always known when he was telling truth - and she shifted, placing herself directly between himself and the Allfather.
Loki's attention, however, was directed solely at Odin. He scoffed. "So that is how you see me, Allfather. I always suspected, but…" With a respectful nod towards Frigga, he increased the distance between them, hardening himself against the dismay bleeding through what remained of her composure. "If you cannot trust me as your son or ally," seidr welled within him, gifted and natural, foreign and familiar, "then perhaps you will trust me as your enemy."
A gasp swept through the throne room at the sight of the green aura billowing around him, and the gradual appearance of gold sprinkled through its nebulous form like grains of sand.
Odin stood. "What are you doing, boy? You cannot break the hold of the seidr." It was a spell meant to last until the Allfather's death, after all. Not even Hela had managed to succeed at such a feat.
With crimson bleeding through the whites his eyes, Loki bared his teeth in a smile, "Watch me," and attacked the foreign magic, directing his own at it as though Odin's casting were a cancer. It tugged at the strings, pulling and twisting and ripping. There wasn't time for something more delicate, and so Loki directed his magic to bite, tear, and chew the golden seidr with the voracity of a wild dog, until at last, what stood before the royal family was a young frost giant, covered in runes.
Loki blinked, adjusting to the sudden brightness of the light. This time, there was no room for secrets. Turning to every guard, every living, breathing soul that his voice could reach, Loki announced, "Thanos will come. Hela will come." Odin went rigid. Frigga clapped her hands over her mouth. The guards traded glances. "And all that you have built will turn to ash."
And Thor… Thor looked at him. Saw him. He stepped forward, mouthing his name.
"What do you desire, Laufeyson?" Loki jerked his head to stare at Odin, his mouth agape. "Asgard? The throne?"
"I have never wanted the throne!" Loki stopped, snapping his jaw shut. Odin waited for him to continue, but Loki no longer held any desire to speak to him. Instead, he addressed Thor and Frigga, "Once, I claimed to long for a seat from which to watch Asgard burn, but when I received it, all I saw was my home in flames."
Odin scoffed. "Did you lose your mind to the Void, boy?" Loki steadfastly ignored him.
"I truly did not want to die," he continued, watching Thor's expression carefully. "Yet I remember letting go, accepting death. He changed my mind." He breathed, filling his lungs with clean air in an attempt to cleanse his thoughts. "When I close my eyes, I see you push me from the Bifrost. You call me monster." Predictably, Thor protested instantly that he'd never do such a thing. Whirling on him, Loki snapped, "You think I don't know that, Thor?! He changed my mind!" Clenching his fists at his sides, Loki looked away, unable to stand the hurt and confusion staring back at him any longer. His chest felt tight. His throat burned. "It took me years to untangle his thoughts from my own."
Frigga looked as though she wanted to reach out for him, hold him as she had when he was a child. Loki was glad she didn't. If she did, he might forget this was real. Such kindness simply did not exist in his reality.
He sighed, longing for a bed, a life that had never been his. Finally, he called upon what resolve and strength remained to demand, not only of the Allfather, but of every man, woman, and solider in the room, "If I am for the ax then by all means be done with it, but if not then for mercy's sake listen!" Their whispers carried and spread. He looked into the faces of strangers to see fear, hatred, anger. And doubt. "Prepare your armies, seek out the Mad Titan Thanos whilst he can still be defeated."
"Did you not serve him, Loki?" Weary and resigned, Loki looked up at the Allfather. "Do you not owe him a debt?" When was it, he wondered, that the great and powerful Odin, wielder of Gungnir, had ceased to frighten him.
Loki hung his head, allowing his fatigue to show on his features. "I owe him a death," he muttered tonelessly, though it was heard throughout the room. "Nothing more and nothing less." Instinctively, he attempted to resume his Aesir guise, and was momentarily bewildered when nothing happened.
It then hit him that there was no longer a guise left to resume, and he grimaced at the realization, only to be dragged from his internal self-reproach by the sound of the Allfather's dread,"What omen are you that wears the face of my son?"
After silently noting the irony of Odin both claiming him as his son and not, Loki turned to Thor.
"One you should heed." And refused to speak again for the remainder of the trial.