"Brother, you are beginning to look like your old self again!" Thor cried in delight as he watched Loki wolf down the largest meal he had eaten since his return to Asgard.
"Suave and handsome?" Loki quipped wryly through a mouthful of succulent roast pork.
"Something like that," chuckled Thor.
Loki was looking more and more healthy as the days went by. He had been required to eat tiny and soft portions of food since his rescue from Thanos, due to his shrunken stomach and emaciated frame, but now he was eating full, rich meals again and he had been spending his day's horse riding and building the strength of his newly restored magic. This new regime had brought back some of the muscle definition in his chest and arms and his skin now had an ethereal, pale glow instead of the sickly pallor he had attained during his imprisonment.
Loki had spent the week with his family, acclimatising himself to the warm, familial atmosphere and realising that it was easier than he expected to pick up his role as the youngest member to the All-Father's dynasty, the son and the brother. Loki took pleasure in the lack of responsibilities he was expected to fulfil and often sat with Thor in his chambers when Thor was planning how to handle the disputes and dilemmas of his subjects in preparation for his eventual coronation. Loki would observe the way his brother often buried his head in his hands and sighed heavily, drinking goblets of wine to cope with the stress of serious power and the expectations it forced upon the bearer.
"What news do you have of the Avengers?" Loki asked Thor once he had finished his filling meal.
"I have been to Heimdall to ask what he could see of them on Midgard," Thor replied, "and he said that they are confident that the threat Thanos presented has been quelled. They do, however, remain vigilant and prepared. Why do you ask, Loki?"
"Oh, I was merely curious," Loki lied, the words sounding smooth and confident despite the flustered nervousness Loki was feeling.
"Well, you need not worry yourself about such things, Loki. You know that nothing will harm you here?" Thor said seriously.
"I know, Thor," Loki said, although he averted his eyes which had clouded over with the darkness of his memories.
"You have not spoken much about your imprisonment; not since you spoke with Father last week. How are you, brother?" concern was heavy in Thor's voice. This had obviously been playing on his mind for some time.
Loki did not answer straight away; he was not sure what to say and he didn't want to lie to Thor. Loki had healed each and every one of his physical wounds, the scars and the fresh lacerations, and his external appearance was one of utmost health and power. He had reverted his image to the one he had inhabited before his downward spiral began; his hair was as short as it had been before Thor invaded Jötunheimr and been banished by Odin to Midgard and he had recovered his old clothes, the armour that had a golden and more noble sheen than his more recent, more aggressive "invasion" outfit. He looked like a handsome Odinson once more. However, his outward appearance bore no semblance of his inner feelings, the ones he harboured deep in his soul, beneath the happiness he felt to be back with his family.
Every night he saw the faces of the Tiphus who had tortured him mercilessly. He saw Thanos laughing at him from atop his nightmarish, black throne. He saw the other Thor. Not only did he see these things, he swore he could feel them. He would wake up, sweating, convinced he was bleeding to death from where his chest had been sliced and burned and stabbed. These waking nightmares were similar to the imagined torture he was put through every night in that pitch black cell where he would go through the most unimaginable horrors, only to be removed the next morning by his captors and shown that it was all just inside his mind.
Loki didn't dare to wipe his memories clean, however. He had more than enough power to be able to remove all the thoughts that troubled and disturbed him permanently, but he couldn't quite bring himself to.
What if the torture had changed him for the better? He had hated himself and his family with such a force that he had become violent and power-hungry, but now he felt grateful and happy to be with those he had denounced so thoroughly. The Tiphus had unintentionally made him this way and he did not want to risk undoing all their hard work.
The one memory he wanted to remove was that of the other Thor, the Thor who hurt him; truly hurt him. Every time Loki attempted to access the memories in order to eradicate them, he would find himself passing out from the ingrained trauma of the abuse and he awoke each time, retching and sobbing. Loki knew he would have to wait for this memory to fade away naturally, without his magic.
Loki paced about his chambers. It was early, far too early for most of the house of Odin to have awoken and the corridors of the palace were full of a peaceful calm. Loki, however, was a nervous ball of energy, a force of pure apprehension, as he walked back and forth next to his bed. Today was the day he would transport himself to Midgard to make his peace with the humans. His magic was strong enough but his resilience was waning; he desperately wanted to prove his new good intentions to the people of Earth, but the thought of leaving the safety of Asgard terrified him. The trauma of his suffering was carved deep inside his mind and he had developed a fear of straying too far from the comfort of his home and the familiar faces within it.
Steeling himself from his fears, he felt his magic creep throughout his limbs and form a cocoon around him. His subconscious and the guilt within it were forcing him to teleport to Midgard; he let it. The ground fell away from his feet and Loki closed his eyes as he felt himself move from one world to another. When he opened his eyes, he would be in Midgard once more.
Shouts of shock and horror erupted around him. Loki opened his eyes slowly. His sunconcious had prompted him to teleport into a familiar scenario; he was amongst S.H.I.E.L.D agents in the base of their operations and he was standing atop some kind of platform, watching as humans rushed away from him in fear and some kind of alarm howled all around him.
"You goddam son-of-a-bitch," said a calm, cool voice behind him.
Loki spun around to see the man known as Nick Fury standing behind him, holding the weapon that had been built in the image of the Destroyer and living up to his namesake. Loki raised his hands in surrender and tried to make his face as impassive as possible.
"I mean you no harm, Fury," Loki said, debating in his mind as to whether he should smile or not.
"Damn right you mean no harm. Move," Fury barked, gesturing down a corridor with the enormous gun. "Move!"
Loki did as he was told. He couldn't help but regret his arrival on earth; it had been just as before, when he had been teleported here by the Tesseract, standing upon a platform above the agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. The only difference was his intentions; no one would suffer during his second trip to earth. Loki didn't count on himself being the exception to this rule.
Fury escorted Loki to a similar looking cell as he had been held in last time by S.H.I.E.L.D, only this one had a large metal chair with arm and leg restraints sitting right in the centre. The imposing man had been reassuring other agents over a communication device, telling them that the 'threat had been secured and contained'.
"We had this custom built in case anyone of your calibre showed up again. Inside, now," Fury commanded, not removing the gun's aim from the back of Loki's head.
"As you wish," Loki said evenly and stepped inside the cell. It was smaller than it had looked on the outside.
"Si'down," Fury said and Loki humoured him whilst he continued, gesturing with the gun, "Put your arms and legs here, and here."
Loki looked up at fury with a face that could not mask how indignant he felt. Suddenly there were other guards in the room, all dressed in black with hefty firearms at their sides. They held Loki's limbs in place as Fury exited the cell and pressed a large red button on a control panel that made the metal clamp-like restraints of the chair snap over Loki's wrists and ankles. Fury smirked at Loki as the other S.H.I.E.L.D guards left the cell, convinced that he had secured the supposed threat of the visiting God.
Loki waited until Fury had operated a series of complicated controls that made the door of the tiny cell hiss and click and whir shut, locking it with an impenetrable amount of mechanics, before he used his magic to spring open the restraints from his body. He rubbed his slightly chafed wrists as Fury gawped at him from the other side of the thick, glass wall.
"What the…" the one-eyed man muttered in disbelief, trying to get a better look at his prisoner.
Loki leaned forward in the chair and delicately touched his chest with a splayed hand, merely saying, "God."
Fury swore under his breath and looked genuinely concerned, but Loki had to restrain his urge to become angry; since his last imprisonment, Loki never wanted to feel helpless or bound ever again as he knew the terrible vulnerability and danger it could bring. He did not appreciate Fury trying to bind him. Loki hadn't expected the humans to celebrate his return but he had declared himself no threat yet Fury had still locked him up instantly. It angered Loki, but he knew he was here to make peace; he would have to take the cell with a pinch of salt.
"Fury, I will not leave this cell, if that is what you wish – though I am entirely capable of doing so – but I will not be tied to a chair like a common criminal," Loki said calmly. "I will say this again; I mean you no threat. I am here to make amends for what I did to your people the last time I was on earth. I feel nothing but regret for what I have done."
Fury smiled after a moment's pause and Loki felt hopeful that he would be given his chance to prove his new-found virtue. Fury walked slowly towards the glass of the cell until his breath left little clouds on its surface.
"Nice try," he smiled slowly, before raising his communication device and speaking into it, his eyes never leaving Loki's. "This is Fury. We're going to need the bring out the Goat herd. Yes, that thing.
Well, why do you think? Yes, we have the goat. Just… get the Goat herd."
Loki rolled his eyes as he sat upon the not-particularly comfortable chair. He would have to be patient if he wanted his redemption. He waited quietly to see what the 'Goat herd' could possibly be.
Three long and drawn out hours later, the Goat herd was escorted to Loki's cell by the smug-looking Fury. Loki felt his mouth drop open as he realized what – or rather 'who' – S.H.I.E.L.D's anti-Loki device was…