The stinging winds whipped about them, but few amongst the trudging company heeded the bitter cold. Their mission had one focus, and if the weather made it all the harsher, so be it. The paths that had crisscrossed the foot of the mountains slowly disappeared as they climbed higher, buried beneath growing sheets of ice.
Stumbling forward, the guards wrenched hard on the fetters that bound Loki's wrists and he pitched forward, losing his balance and falling to one knee. He hissed from behind the new muzzle that had been clamped to his jaw before their departure from Asgard. He saw little use for it now, as even his honeyed words would have little effect on the servants of the Allfather. Their orders had been explicit, and to stray from their duty was to risk Odin's wrath.
Loki stumbled to his feet and he felt the wet snow soak through to his skin, though the ice did not irk him as it might the others. The freezing Jotun landscape was his accursed home, but he could not help the sense of warped pleasure at being exiled here; at least the biting cold could not add to his torture.
It had taken the better part of the day to reach the rocky outcropping in the mountains where Odin had first rescued an infant frost giant so many years ago, and though Loki did not remember the place by sight, he felt keenly its oppressive loneliness. It was here that Odin returned him, the ruined son who had failed to live up to his guided purpose.
"Loki Laufeyson…"
Something in him cringed at the sound of his surname. The Allfather had publicly recognized his true parentage and so stripped him of his Asgardian heritage as a member of the house of Odin. The new address still stung, but he pushed the thought away. He had never been one of them.
"…you have sought war where there was no quarrel, and have destroyed many innocents…"
The guards were pulling him forward now, directing him to a large slab of stone amidst a pile of sharp boulders.
"…you have shamed Asgard and the house of Odin by your merciless actions…"
He was pushed back against the stone until he could feel the rough patches of ice dig into his spine. Loosing his shackles, the men bound his arms to either side of the rock with a rope made of unbending iron, a substance wrought deep within the caves of Nidavellir. The metal cord was wrapped tightly about his body until he was tied, unmoving, to the slab. His breathing became restricted and he fought the bonds, only to have the iron cut deeper into his chest. He gave up with a gasp and tried to focus on the rhythm of his own shallow breathing.
"…and so it is right that your punishment will be just as merciless…"
The sound of hissing broke his reverie, and Loki felt his stomach plummet. He had feigned indifference back in Odin's court as he listened to his sentence with a contemptuous smile. A ruse, he knew. But his pride would not allow him to buckle to fear, and for days he desperately hid his growing anxiety behind a mask of derisive amusement. But it no longer mattered now, and as he glimpsed the snakes slither into his peripheral, his heart leapt and pounded in his throat.
The guards in the company said nothing, but completed their work almost mechanically, removing his muzzle before turning away to begin the long trudge back down the mountain.
"Stop!" Loki cried out to them, and the snakes recoiled slightly. "Does the Allfather leave a final word?"
One guardsmen half-turned and spat upon the ground. "He would not speak your name, Sly One, but says thus: 'His salvation lies in his thought and another's memory.' Our business here is finished." And with that, the company moved slowly away, the crunching of their footsteps in the snow fading into the whistling winds.
Suddenly the gales dropped to a whispering breeze, and a ghastly silence fell upon the small cliff. Loki listened with growing horror as the serpents continued to slither down the rock and brush against his throat. Once, twice around his neck they slowly wound themselves, until a snake head rose on either side of his jaw and poised themselves mere inches from his ears. Loki instinctively pulled back, which only worked to tighten the serpents' grip and choke him. Panting, he tried his bonds once more but found them unrelenting. His thoughts flew back to the memories of Odin's tales, stories of grotesque tortures in the name of Asgardian justice that used to hold Thor and him enthralled as boys. He had little thought he would experience them himself.
Two forked tongues flicked into Loki's ears, lapping into them a hot, dripping liquid. It instantly stung his skin, and quickly grew in intensity as two small streams began to flow into the recesses of his mind. Seconds passed and Loki could feel it burning through the tender flesh behind his eyes, and a choking shriek erupted from his throat. The white-hot pain stabbed into his brain like burning knives, and amidst his screams of agony he was barely conscious of the poison carving a hollow out of the center of his skull. His reasoning evaporated in the wake of the venom, and his body writhed against its bonds without a thought as to how many minutes, hours, or days had passed.
He could not see the blinding flash of light that suddenly ripped down from the clouds, nor could he hear the thunderous clang of hammer against iron. The constricting serpents were torn from his throat and the bonds about his body slowly ripped away in fistfuls of twisted metal. Instantly sensation came back to his limbs. Loki felt himself slide down the slab of stone, felt the ice beneath his fingertips, and the wind against his cheek. Awareness returned, then thought, and finally reason as his mind rapidly restored itself layer upon layer. His eyes shot open and as his surroundings came into focus he found himself staring up at Thor, who stood before him with a crushed serpent in each of his fists.
Loki staggered back against the rocks and pushed up against them. "You! W-why?" he gasped.
"I saw my brother's cry for help," said the Thunderer simply.
"Saw?"
"Do not think me a fool who cannot recognize another man's fear. It was writ plainly on your face when Father announced your punishment."
"Oh, but I smiled!"
"Your eyes did not."
Loki blinked, startled, but quickly recovered. "Odin will smite you for this, and you will be as I was—"
"His punishment will be less severe, and I do not fear it."
Loki clenched his teeth. "Of course, the true son will be pardoned," he spat.
A light ignited in Thor's eyes as his grip on Mjolnir tightened, but he stayed his hand. "Father would not accept me as your substitute."
Loki felt his jaw drop again. "What?"
"I fought the council's every word, but to no avail. When I offered to take your place, they threw me from Gladsheim until their decision was made. I had no say in their decision."
Bewilderment surged within Loki; the shock of his rescue, the relief from the pain, and the hatred of it all warred relentlessly in his mind. He was tempted to slip back into spite, that easiest of comforts, but could not ignore Thor's blatant disobedience on his behalf.
His throat rumbled in a low growl; the sentimentality of it all sickened him. He could feel his hatred reignite as he recounted the years of loneliness he had endured without marked affection, without notice. Thor was endeavoring to soothe a wound that had long been sealed in scars.
"Brother—"
"Don't try to save me," Loki snarled suddenly as he whirled upon Thor. "I've been spared enough from Jotunheim, from the truth, from myself, and even your Avengers! Do you still beg me to play your side? It is a child's memory you cannot bring back."
"A memory?" Thor paused and looked up from where he had been kicking aside a small mountain of snow. "Then you remember as children when we played marauders?"
Loki favored him with a hard look, though his gaze held reluctant curiosity.
Thor continued, "Surely you recall how you always cheated when storming my snow fortresses…?"
"I did not cheat. I merely used my advantage."
"By creating an army made entirely of yourself?"
Loki's lips spread into a wry smile. "The very look on your face made my efforts worth it."
Thor feigned seriousness. "I looked every bit a warrior!"
"You were a kitten who thought himself a lion."
"A kitten, eh?"
An image struck his whimsy and Loki allowed himself a deep-throated laugh, the first he could remember in months. "Your eyes were bigger than the shields in the weapons vault! The mighty Thor, hurling snowballs in every direction because as he could not decide which side to defend."
"There were hundreds of you!"
"It seems Heimdall had gravely neglected his duties."
Thor chuckled. "I asked him, but Father would not permit him to leave the Bifrost."
"I do not think Father—" Loki stopped, his speech hitching upon the last word. He glanced sideways to see a sad smile cross Thor's face as a deep silence fell between them.
"A memory can be brought back," said Thor quietly. "And so can you."
Loki's eyes flicked in the direction of the rock where he had been bound, then down to the mutilated snakes lying in the bloodied snow. For the briefest of instants, an overwhelming sadness overcame him, and he felt keenly Thor's disappointment in him. A feeling of betrayal, even. How far he had fallen since the days of their youth.
Then his mind snapped to and he felt the last remnant of humor leave him. He had never held claim to innocence, even as a boy, for his mind had always been plotting, twisting, and planning again. He had been pulled in far too easily by a memory, susceptible as he was for secretly clinging to a happier past. It would not happen again, and he set his jaw in final resolution.
"What becomes of me now?" said Loki apathetically, casting a blank look about him.
"You are free, brother."
"Just like that?"
Thor frowned. "I do not think you will cause much mischief while the Chitauri still shadow you."
"There is no freedom for the hunted," Loki retorted bitterly.
"And there is no choice for the dead," Thor returned, nodding his head back toward the stone slab. "You may wander where you like, but you cannot return to Asgard."
Loki stiffened. "Who are you to limit my movements in the Nine Realms?"
"Your rescuer and the future king of Asgard."
"How very clever," said Loki, a venomous tone creeping into his voice. "I am saved from one fate to be held in your debt. A way to insure my cooperation, is that it? You never were much for tactics, but perhaps I have taught you a thing or two in passing."
His words riled Thor, and he knew it.
"You twist pity and kindness, brother," Thor growled, his brow darkening. "You look for scheming in everyone—"
"Look for?" Loki spat. "I am not blind to the looks of suspicion from the likes of Tyr, Balder, Sif, or your Warriors Three. You think I do not feel their glares as I walk past, or hear their whispers behind my back? You are a fool, Thor, and cannot see beyond your own pathetic emotions to see how truly hated I am in Asgard! And for what? Because I can outwit their little games? Look to your own scheming friends, and see them for what they are."
"That is enough!"
"I will be paying Asgard a little visit," said the Trickster with a malicious grin. "You had best ready your fortress and know from which angle I intend to strike this time. I will be many in number; I would not trust Heimdall to protect you for long."
"You are mad!" Thor cried, bewildered.
Loki smirked. "Do run along and tell Father all about it."
He relished the look of fury and confusion upon Thor's face, satisfied that he had played his trick well. He knew Thor would not take him back to Asgard and risk his own punishment interfering with this new threat of war. Besides, what prison could hold him unless he allowed it? A simple shift in form and he could escape without notice; it was only the muzzle that had prevented him from doing so. And Thor was right. He would not go far without crossing the Chitauri's notice.
He met Thor's final scowl with a raised eyebrow and a challenging glare. As the Thunderer summoned a mighty wind and disappeared within the rising funnel, Loki willed himself to shift down into the unassuming form of a black hawk and waited for the skies to clear.