Loki was kept busy trying to keep his memories at bay, lest the little mind-seer look into his thoughts. He did not keep track of the time, and only looked knew that at least a full day had passed when his door opened and Thor entered the small, windowless room. He stood in regal glory, his armor cleaned and polished, his red cape flowing with each movement, and his demeanor well-rested and fully healed.
Thor paused and just looked at him, and Loki imagined what a sight he must make, shackled to a metal chair, gagged, in the same dirt and armor from the battle. Thor's blue eyes searched Loki's own, and he finally sighed and spoke.
"Brother, arrangements have been made to take you to Asgard to face justice for your crimes. We leave within the day." And with that, he swept from the room, not bothering to look back.
Loki pondered this before discarding it as not important. He could hear Thor's boots thunking down the hall for some time after he had left, and after a short time they returned, along with the brown-haired water witch. Loki sent a special glare at her, followed by anger and thoughts of malice. He threw in some heinous thoughts specifically for her that ought to have sent her into hysterics if she was truly reading his mind. Instead, she looked calmly at him and stood back while Thor undid Loki's shackles from the chair.
"Stand, Brother." Thor ordered, pulling Loki up by his right arm.
"Easy," the witch cautioned, moving to stand on Loki's other side. Loki looked closely at her. She was young, even younger than he, if he translated his Asgardian age to Midgardian years. She stood at Thor's shoulder, taller than the Widow woman, but much shorter than Loki himself. She had long chestnut hair that was tied back in a braid and further kept with a white band around her head, and she wore a gray tunic, blue pants of some unknown material that appeared common on Midgard, and brown leather boots that scuffed quietly when she walked. She held herself with an air of confidence that could translate to authority or arrogance in other situations, looking both of the men before her directly in the eye. Her eyes were brown, and in the dim light of the room they looked very dark indeed. A leather pack was slung over her shoulder and she kept adjusting its strap as she stood next to the God of Thunder.
"Here," she addressed Loki as Thor was unlocking his legs, moving a bit closer to him and holding out one hand. "I'll heal you a bit."
Loki just glared at her, not bothering to hide any of his loathing.
"Come on," she said, and laid a gentle hand on his arm. Loki was held fast still by the chains at his feet, and he refused to fall undignifiedly in an attempt to twitch away. Nevertheless, he vowed to return and make this mortal or her descendants suffer for this insult one day.
That was, until he felt a warming sensation that traveled quickly from his arm to his chest, and blossomed outward, removing some pain wherever it landed. His collarbone knitted first, not completely but enough to take away much discomfort. Then came his leg, and the bewitchment even moved to his head, and Loki began to feel his mind clear a fraction as this peculiar magic worked. Still, he wanted this she-witch to stop touching his royal person, and the moment Thor was done removing his legs from the chair Loki quickly stepped away from her, pondering how much Thor would hurt him if he lashed out.
"Careful, Lady Eleanore," Thor warned the wench, who only looked amused. "Loki is still stronger by far than a Midgardian man."
"Okay Thor," this Eleanore replied, smiling at him and finally at Loki. Mocking damsel. "Let's get him to the launch site."
The trip was made in a large, black Midgardian vehicle with tinted shieldings where the windows should have been. Loki was seated in the back of this with Thor alone, as the two of them took up as much room as three humans would have. The witch sat in front of Thor, behind yet another clear partition that Loki supposed was for her protection. A nervous young agent drove them through the city, the buildings blocking out the early morning sunlight. The vehicle itself emitted a purring noise that strengthened to a growl as they got underway, growing louder and softer with their speed. To Loki, it was a grating sound, like the growl of the Chitauri dungeon master, and he tensed up each time it increased.
Their drive was not long, however, and they soon disembarked in the middle of a paved courtyard walled on one side by trees where the rest of the so-called Avengers stood in waiting. Loki received glares from each one of them, but especially from the one called Hawkeye, who fingered a knife at his belt and looked at Loki like a piece of dead meat. The Captain and the young sorcerer were the least hostile, if Loki was rating them on a scale. Now that Loki had a better chance to see him in person, the young man looked vaguely familiar, though there was no way to place him in the cloudy, crowded huddle of his thoughts. Both the Captain and the magician came forward and spoke to the woman in low voices as soon as she stepped out of the horseless carriage.
Through the foliage Loki glimpsed people running and walking leisurely, and he assumed that they must be near a park. The buildings around them looked undamaged. The Chitauri must not have gotten this far.
"Agent Engman," the Captain greeted the sorceress much more professionally than he had the day before. He wore plain mortal clothing; a brown jacket of leather, a checkered tunic, leggings of the same blue material as the witch, and brown shoes. Then he nodded to Thor and fell behind him to escort Loki to the middle of the flagstone clearing.
"Be careful. You don't even have to go, you know," the young sorcererspoke low and… lovingly, Loki thought, as he and the woman followed after the Captain and Thor. Loki was still trying to place the man's magic and his face. It tugged on his memory in an almost-formed thought that refused to shape. "Steve knows what you want. He can see to i—"
"Don't be ridiculous." Her voice took a more loving tone as well, but still maintained its ring of authority. "Steve isn't going alone, and neither am I. We've been invited, and it would be rude to decline. Besides," she smiled at her young man, "I'll be back soon, and that's where your work can begin. Invent some stuff for me while I'm gone."
"I will." The boy's face grew deathly serious, and he pulled the sorceress into a tight embrace. "Just come back safe," he whispered. Loki gazed around, noting how the others' expressions seemed to soften at the display of affection, while Stark looked on with what seemed to be pride. When I return for my revenge, I will first target the man, and then his woman.
As the couple parted, Thor cleared his throat. "My friends, it is time we depart. Good Captain and Lady Eleanore, to me." So saying, Thor turned to a nondescript man in a black suit who was carrying a black case that hummed with untapped power. Loki was not surprised when Thor pulled the Tesseract out of it, encased in some metal and clear barriers.
"Brother," he said, turning to Loki, who knew his part and grabbed the other end of the casement. "Captain, Lady." Loki's eyes widened in surprised as the other two placed their hands on top of Thor's. Surely he jests… they cannot travel with us. Has he gone mad? They will die, or be left on Asgard forever.
Thor looked at Loki's expression and laughed, "The measurements have been made, Brother, and the Captain and Lady are guests of the house of Odin. He will ensure their safety, along with Heimdall. They have much to discuss, as the affairs of Midgard are now and forever connected to Asgard." Loki rolled his eyes. Mere mortals will not survive this journey, Thor. But this was of no consequence to him. If they died due to Thor's carelessness, so be it.
The witch and the Captain exchanged almost-nervous glances, and the leader of the Avengers stepped closer to the woman. "We're ready."
"Very well. Farewell for now, my shield-brothers. May fortune shine greatly upon you!"
With that enthusiastic salute, Thor turned the handle to release the Tesseract's power, and Loki's world was lost in colors and light.
His eyes refocused on the mortals' huddled figures a moment later as he gained his footing on a smooth surface. The water witchling was leaning into the Captain's chest, and he'd pulled her close to his body in a panicked embrace. They were both looking outward, as though to face their doom as it approached. Not, Loki mused, that that would have saved them, if the Tesseract had spit them out during the trip. He pictured them spinning endlessly through the void, never aging, left in an eternity of darkness and confusion. If only…
"We have arrived, my friends." Thor said, gently extricating the Tesseract's vessel from their hands. Loki looked around, noting that they were on the lifeless Rainbow Bridge where it connected Asgard's land with the void. The gates stood open and behind them the citadel loomed large, closing them in on one side with golden light, while the other side was lost to a lack of color where the only the stars and galaxies brought order to the undisguised chaos. The time was around midmorning, the sun casting an angled glow on the city and the travelers alike.
The Captain and the sorceress had separated, but they still stayed close to each other as they gaped at their surroundings. The woman absently reached behind her and dug into her bag, hand emerging with a small black device that made a chiming noise as she powered it up. It was square and shiny, a lens a bit like a small telescope pointing out of its front. She raised it a little, and looked to Thor who nodded. Then she began pointing the lens at the city and the bridge and pressing a button on the top. The device made tiny clicking noises, and Loki guessed that this was a Midgardian way of capturing still images.
"Incredible," Loki heard the blond man mutter under his breath. He was staring at the end of the bridge, down into the void where Loki had fallen. The woman stayed silent, her eyes darting around and drinking everything in.
"Father has sent a party to greet us," Thor observed. And indeed, there was a riding party galloping toward them, with palace guards and extra horses for the travelers. Loki even identified his own horse, Amund. Seeing him sent a pang through Loki's heart, but he held himself aloof from the emotion until it faded into the background.
Thor greeted the guards, and they dismounted and bowed to the golden prince and his companions, pointedly ignoring Loki.
"My Lord," said the leader of the guards after the formal greetings had taken place, "Your father, Odin King, requests your presence in the Throne Room immediately."
"And what of the prisoner?" Thor inquired coldly, regaining his air of leadership and poise completely as the mantle of Crown Prince fell once again, invisibly, around his shoulders.
"The King has decreed that he shall await his sentence in the dungeon. A cell has been equipped specially for him." The guard did not look at Loki, maintaining his gaze on the three in front of him.
"Very well," Thor said. "My friends, shall we away?"
"Um, yes." The Captain actually looked a bit nervous as he approached the horse the guards led out for him. He swung into the saddle with no trouble, however, and soon his balance matched that of a novice, at least.
"Sidesaddle?" the woman, Lady Eleanore, asked from where she'd been scratching her horse's neck and ears. It was an older palace stallion, and Loki knew him from his gray coat and calm demeanor. Many novice riders had been placed on this horse's back. The mortal woman seemed comfortable with petting the animal, but eyed the saddle distastefully.
"It is customary for ladies to ride so," Thor said, walking up to her. "Allow me to assist you."
Loki smirked as well as he could behind the gag, thinking of Sif who hadn't ridden traditionally in over a thousand years.
"Alright," she replied, eyeing the offending equipment. She put her foot in Thor's offered hand and was mounted quickly. Loki heard her whisper, "I think I'll fall off this way if we go faster than a walk."
Thor only grinned up at her, "Never fear. The horse will not let you fall." At this, she smiled a bit ruefully and shrugged.
Lastly, Thor unlocked the chains connecting Loki's leg shackles, and offered to help Loki onto Amund after the horse had gently nuzzled his former prince. Loki ignored the affection and the assistance and swung gracefully to his place in the saddle, taking the reins in his cuffed hands and setting off with his head held high. Never mind the discomfort from his injuries; that was minor compared to the damage his pride would take at receiving help form he guards he had formerly commanded. Thor and the guards quickly mounted up and followed, forming a ring around Loki while the Captain and the witch followed side by side, one guard stationed behind them to bring up the rear.
The ride to the castle was direct and scenic, as it went through the main marketplace and public gardens, ending at the main palace gate. The road was crowded with the usual morning traffic, though everyone pulled to the side and made way for the Prince and his entourage. Faces turned smiling to Thor, some even laughing a greeting, and freezing when they saw Loki in his muzzle and chains. He ignored them, staring straight ahead and did not see the expressions the Midgardians drew.
They reached the palace gates in a short time, and the leader of their guard pulled them to a halt in front of the main entrance.
"This is where we leave you, Sire," he told Thor. "My orders are to escort the prisoner to his cell." Thor nodded at him and the other guards, and Loki was surrounded again, the rear guard taking Thor's place.
"My comrades, welcome to Asgard." Loki could hear Thor's declarations and enthusiasm as he was led around to the far side of the palace. Loki knew where they were headed, and so he was prepared when the guards stopped.
He dismounted with them, allowing them to surround him once more as they led him over to a patch of cobblestone in the shade of the castle walls. The guard in front stamped his foot three times in succession on the ground, and with a scraping, noise the secret dungeon entrance was revealed. It was a staircase that led deep into the ground under the palace. Loki had explored it many times before in his youth, when wandering away from Thor and his raucous group, or making mid-night exploits when he was bored. It was expected for future kings to know the grounds of their palace, but Thor had never been much for divining secrets. Thus, Loki was certain his not-brother knew little of this entrance.
The guards took him down the stairs to a dark hallway where cells were made of clear magic to contain the more dangerous criminals. Energy thrummed around Loki, and the magic suppressed inside him turned his stomach as it responded to the call of like to like.
If only I could be free of these shackles and harness that energy, Loki thought wistfully as they stopped outside a barren cell with yellow walls. This cage must have been made specially for him, as the magic was too strong here to hide from even mortal vision.
Unbidden, a brief flash of memory brought Loki before the golden throne of Thanos.
This was the first of many times the self-proclaimed courter of Death had called Loki forth to offer a bargain. Loki had been treated relatively well, his wounds healed, and he had only been on the rock for a short time.
"So, Odinson," Thanos began, his voice graveling against Loki's ears. "It seems fate has brought us together."
Abruptly, Loki's vision cleared and he was back in the same dark hallway, the confused guards flanking him, calling his name.
"Prince Loki, enter the cell," the lead guard intimated, and from his tone Loki knew he'd said these words before. He nodded and walked through the collapsed magic wall. His bindings stayed on as it sealed behind him, and he wondered how long they would keep him chained like an animal. His wonderings were answered as the wall reappeared and his shackles vanished into thin air.
Finally fully mobile, Loki turned his head to take in his surroundings. Furniture appeared as soon as the barrier was completely sealed, silently placing itself with a small burst of energy. A bed, small by Asgardian standards but still luxuriously soft-looking, was covered by a dark green blanket and a couple of similar pillows. Two or three books Loki recognized from his personal library stood on a small table next to a tray of food and water. The room was otherwise bare, the back wall and floor an opaque white instead of the shimmering yellow of the restrictive magic.
Thinking of magic, Loki reached for his own, only to find it slipping out of his grasp. He could still feel his ability, but he lacked control over it. It was like being a child again, learning from his mother— Frigga— how to bend and shape the power to his will. Frustrating. But not unexpected.
Sighing slightly, but otherwise outwardly calm, Loki ventured over to the bed and gingerly lowered himself onto it. Much of the pain was gone, thanks to the water witch's healing, and he was left only with a faint soreness and some sharp discomfort in his leg. That and his collarbone were still not fully healed, nor were many of the scrapes and bruises he'd endured. Loki regretted that, as it made him look more pitiful and defeated than he ever wanted to appear. Especially before Odin and Frigga.
But perhaps it will play on their sympathies, he thought, settling back onto the mattress and closing his eyes. If nothing else, Loki was known for his base manipulation and opportunistic nature. When he was dealt a bad hand, he learned to play his opponents so they believed he had won. While it had not granted him many friends on Asgard, it had kept him and Thor alive over the years, and all of their adventures had only served to improve Loki's skill. If Odin wanted a defeated, humble political gambit to return, Loki would meet him with resistance, pride, and power. As soon as the shackles were removed outside of the cell, he planned on teleporting away to hidden portals to other realms, and there hiding from the House of Odin and Thanos alike. His favorite part about this plan was its unspecific nature. Anyone could follow a detailed plot, but it took improvisation to set people back, shock them, and make them drop their guard.
Let them come, the words drifted triumphantly through his mind as he felt himself falling asleep for the first time in several weeks, only the faint hum of magic keeping him company.