Thor protested vehemently when Njal told him he needed to stay behind. He was the only one who hadn't seen that coming from leagues away. Of course, they needed Thor to stay cleanly out of it, otherwise what would be the point?
[We will meet again after it's done,] Loki lied.
Thor nodded and his hands twitched, as if he wanted to hold on to Loki but changed his mind.
"May the Norns watch over you," he said instead.
Loki gave him a curt bow. He didn't need anyone watching what he was about to do, but arguing was beyond pointless.
Behind him, Tony cleared his throat as a reminder. Time was running out. Loki assessed his not-brother with a last contemplative stare and turned to leave.
Walking the streets of Asgard again didn't get any less weird this time around. And, now that they were walking back towards the castle, it was harder and harder to control the trepidation that rose within him.
Every shadow looked like an enemy and every clink of the chains sounded like an alarm bell. And they clinked with every step, no matter how careful Loki was being. The weight of the shackles made it impossible to forget about them and the noise kept him on the edge. Not because of how it looked like, he cared little about that anymore, but because it would make all the required sneaking they needed to do a lot harder.
There was something poetic about killing Odin while still wearing his chains. An ultimate act of cold vengeance.
No matter how hard Loki focused on that thought, he couldn't get his vindictiveness to awake. It should be there, singing in his veins and painting the images of beautiful, bloody revenge in his mind. But it wasn't. A slip of concentration and Loki's desires were back to square one – forget about Odin, about Thor, about Asgard. Turn around, leave it all behind and go home with his friends. Nobody had to die tonight, whether they deserved it or not.
He gritted his teeth on the metal and pushed on.
He led them to the secret entrance, hidden in the outer wall by the stables. It had been centuries ago when he'd found it and used it to sneak out at night to go on rides in the mountains. With Thor at first, then alone, once Thor had discovered the perks of opposite sex companionship and Loki's knocks on his door remained unanswered, night after night.
The narrow, winding stairs led to the servants' quarters and Loki paused before he pushed the door open.
"Route clear," Natasha whispered. "There're some people in the rooms on the right but they appear to be asleep."
[Leave the lantern here,] he said to Bruce and reached for the handle.
"Wait." It was Natasha again. She bent over, grabbing a small blade from her boot and Loki wondered briefly how many more of those she was hiding. At least a few, he guessed and the thought made him smile.
She pierced the fabric of her dress, just below the waistline, then tore the skirt off and tossed it away. "Way better. Let's go."
The hallway beyond the door was dark and Loki counted it as a good thing. They were drawing enough attention as they were. Once they were inside, all the jingling and the low burr of Stark's armor sounded like an unbearable cacophony of sounds.
The castle was still sleeping though and no one was there to hear them, for now.
The first pair of guards they spotted were far away judging by the sound of the greaves on the stone floor that carried over the empty corridors, drowning the low murmur of the conversation the Einherjar conducted between themselves. Loki urged the group into a small scribe's office and they stayed hidden until the footsteps faded away.
They crossed the skywalk over the courtyard and traversed the mezzanine above the library hall.
The gates leading to the private royal wing were guarded by two men.
[Do not kill them, if you can avoid it,] Loki warned. The guards were not at fault in all this and they were only there because they were following orders.
"Duh," Tony huffed, "Any idea about how to get around?"
Before Loki came up with an answer, Natasha pulled a couple of darts from her pocket. "Those worked like a charm last time. But we'll have to get closer."
"I'll take one, you take the other," Clint said to Natasha and grabbed one of the projectiles.
Loki wanted to protest, but squashed it. The guards would hear him coming before he even got as far as halfway there, despite as unfocused as they appeared. It was already well into the night and they must've been standing there since the change at midnight, so it wasn't much of a surprise that their attention was slipping from tiredness and boredom alike.
Forced to stay back, he crouched behind a pillar and watched as Natasha and Clint snuck along the wall. The helmets the Einherjar wore weren't ideal for peripheral vision and Natasha was just a few steps away before the closest guard heard her coming. It was too late. She lunged and jabbed the dart into his chin before a surprised yelp turned into a battle call. The other guard turned and raised his spear. Clint dashed, slid under it and prodded the man in the thigh, right between the plates. The words of protest got cut short and the man crumbled to the ground.
The drug indeed worked like a charm.
Loki moved from his hiding spot and gestured Tony and Bruce to follow, needlessly, because they were already on it.
He stopped in front of the double door and placed his hand on the handle.
"Wait!" Natasha warned. "There's a spell on it."
Loki pulled his hand away immediately. The doorway hadn't been protected the last time he had been here. A lot had changed in Asgard since then though.
Natasha placed her hand on the carved wood and closed her eyes, her face drawing into a scowl.
As a rule, breaking magic was easier than casting it, but like most rules, this one too had its exceptions and he had no idea how far Odin would go in his paranoid obsession. And finding a different way in would cost them too much time. If she couldn't…
"Done," she said and sneered at Loki's surprised glare.
Tony pushed the door open.
The hallway on the other side looked just like Loki remembered.
Tony grabbed one of the guards under his arms and dragged him inside. Loki did the same with the other.
"In there? The room is empty," Natasha said and nudged her chin at the door to their right and Loki's heart skipped a beat before he nodded.
Bruce opened the door and they carried the guards inside.
Loki stayed in the hallway, gathering his courage, before he crossed the threshold.
Natasha was right. The room was empty. There was some furniture still, a bed with no linens, some bare shelves, two high armchairs by the window. The rest was gone. No personal items, no books, no paintings or draperies on the walls. Even the curtains and rugs were removed.
He went further inside and stopped by one of the chairs, then dragged his fingers over the carved wood of the backrest. He had ordered those to be made in Alfheimr, by one of the finest Ljósálfar craftsmen, ages ago. The fabric of the upholstery had faded, but the delicate blue-yellow pattern still showed under the dust that had settled on it over the last two years.
Natasha came over and stood by his side, her face painted with the faint light coming through the bare window.
"It was your room, wasn't it?"
Loki nodded. He had spent a thousand years here. All the tomes on magic, his notes, his sketches and designs, the trophies he won or just little curiosities he had collected during his travels – all he achieved during his life – were in here. And Odin had just taken it and thrown it away.
Just like Loki himself.
A grim resolution formed in his mind. [It doesn't matter. Let's go.]
Bruce stayed behind to guard the exit in case someone wandered in, alarmed by the sudden disappearance of guards.
Loki expected the entryway to the king's chambers to be guarded as well, but it wasn't. Perhaps it was Heimdall's doing or just a lucky oversight.
"He is sleeping," Natasha whispered, her palms pressed to the door. "As far as I can tell."
Loki pulled the dagger out.
The plan was simple. Tony grabs Gungnir and Loki slices Odin's throat, while Natasha and Clint secure the retreat.
"Ready?" Tony asked.
Loki curled his fingers around the hilt of the dagger and nodded.
Tony's visor shut close.
Loki pushed the door open.
A lantern on the bedside table and the glow of embers of the dying fire in the fireplace provided most of the illumination in the spacious chamber. On the raised bed, Odin was resting, his head raised on a heap of pillows, his hands folded over the duvet, deep blue fabric embroidered with silver thread.
That was all the details Loki's mind registered before Odin's eyes snapped open.
Tony's boosters fired and he flew at full speed to get the spear, propped by the side of the bed, just within Odin's grasp. Odin roared in rage and reached for it just a blink of an eye before Tony. They wrestled, each tugging at their end of the weapon. The whole struggle took a few seconds, yet it felt like forever to Loki as he ran.
Odin yelled again and a surge of power swept Loki off his feet and threw Tony across the room until he crashed into some shelves.
"I got it!" Tony rasped, as Loki dragged himself back up.
Natasha was getting up as well and he could see her running from the corner of his eye. Not away, but towards Odin.
Loki lunged and rammed into Odin as he was leaving the bed. The impact knocked Odin down, back into the mattress. Loki jumped on top and pressed his knee to Odin's chest. The blade blinked in Loki's hand as he brought it down to Odin's throat.
Odin's eye regarded him and there was something almost curious in the glare. His eyepatch was gone and the ugly scar it usually covered made it hard to read the emotion.
"I should've known saving you would be the death of me," he said. "They told me I should have left you to die, or give you as a toy to the guards. A Jötunn runt, nothing but a curiosity. Not good for anyone to care about. Not good enough to live. Now look at you."
Loki didn't know if it was Odin's magic or his own treacherous mind, but the metal of his shackles suddenly felt tenfold heavier, weighing his limbs and squeezing his throat. His eyes burned and his hand was shaking when he pressed the blade closer to Odin's skin.
He was vaguely aware of the movement around him. Natasha was by his side. Tony stood on the other side of the bed, his arm raised, the propulsor ready to fire. Clint was next to him, the spear now in his hands.
"You can't even do this right, can you?" Odin snarled. "Sneaking in the shadows like a coward, bringing your mortal pets for help. And even with that, you're faltering."
Loki blinked and tears ran down his cheeks.
Odin laughed and it sounded absolutely insane. "What are you waiting for? This is what you always wanted, isn't it?"
I loved you. I worshipped you. I followed your every command and obeyed your every rule. There was nothing I desired more than for you to love me back.
He couldn't even say it, denied his own voice. That didn't change.
The blade pressed deeper, drawing blood.
Natasha's hand found its way to Loki's shoulder and a soft sob escaped his lips, muffled by the metal. She was his rock, his harbor, his safe haven.
The Jötunn runt found someone to love him, Odin.
Loki raised his other hand and signed.
"Surrender the throne to Thor," Natasha said, delivering his words and Loki accented it by putting all his weight on his knee, still pressed to Odin's chest. "And we will let you live."
Odin crooked his head and bared his teeth in a parody of a smile. "Claiming the crown for yourself is no longer enough? Too much responsibility for you? You'd rather continue to poison Thor with your lies from the shadows?"
Loki's hand moved again.
"Do it," Natasha said.
"Never. I'd rather see Asgard burn than willfully give it to any of you. Traitors and cowards! That's what you all are! You, Thor, Heimdall. Even Frigg! She dared to speak up to me! To argue! With me, her king!"
Loki's grip on the dagger was so tight he could feel his bones creak. Odin gasped when the blade dug deeper. Crimson blood dripped to the sides of his neck, staining the fabric.
"Kill me, cur! Prove me right one last time!"
Natasha's fingers on his arm squeezed and let go. The air shimmered around her hand.
Odin's eye snapped to her. "You dare using Æsir magic, mortal!?" he ground out and moved his hand, a spell of his own forming around it. Loki dropped the dagger and used both hands to pin Odin's arms down, before the gesture was completed.
Odin roared, an enraged, unintelligible outcry, the ultimate sign of his anger. One of those that invariably made Loki cower, back off and shut his mouth. He didn't back off now. He used all the strength he had left to keep Odin down. With the blade gone, the king was free to fight. He thrashed to get Loki off of himself. Even in his old age, he was strong, much stronger than Loki was now, after years of hunger and torture.
Clint jumped onto the bed and aimed the point of the spear at Odin's head. "Sit."
Natasha was on the bed too, leaning over Odin.
Thanos' scepter was in her hand.
Loki stared, astonished, the realization of what feat she had just performed filling him with pride. He had never even taught her conjuration. She'd learned it all by herself.
Odin jerked under Loki's grip one last time when the tip of the scepter touched his chest, the motion finally dislodging him and knocking him off. Loki stumbled back and away from the bed.
Odin's eye flashed black then radiant blue, and he ceased movement.
"Renounce your right to the throne," Natasha breathed, reeling, her teeth clenched and her eyes squeezed shut. Odin fought the control of the spell. But, in the battle of minds, the Stone won.
"I renounce my right to the throne," he said, his voice hollow.
For a moment nothing happened. Then a low breeze ruffled the drapes of the canopy and the air opalized and prickled on Loki's skin. Natasha's eyes flew open and drifted to Loki, wild and disoriented. Then her eyes rolled back and she collapsed, the scepter falling from her hand.
He caught her before she hit the floor, then set her down as gently as he could, with her head in his lap.
Clint was at her side in an instant, his fingers pressed to her neck, checking for a pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief.
Tony knelt next to them, his gauntleted hand hovering above Natasha's head and chest. "The vitals are steady, but she's all out cold, as far as Jay can tell," he evaluated after a moment, then looked up at Loki. "What the hell just happened?"
[The old Æsir magic reclaiming the Odin-force,] Loki said, [It belongs to the new king now. She was right in the center of it, attuned to Odin's mind and already strained by his resistance.]
"So, it's done?" Clint asked and tilted his head at Odin, sitting slackly at the edge of the bed, staring at them vacantly. "The old bugger is a king no more?"
[Yes.]
"We should go," Tony said and pried his fingers under a bent plate of his right vambrace. He tugged at it till it came off and he was able to move his arm again. "Ah, much better."
Loki nodded.
Clint got up and picked Gungnir back up then leaned on it, like on a walking staff. "What about him?" he asked, nudging his chin at Odin.
Loki shrugged. It was done. Odin was king no more. Loki had fulfilled his destiny. Everyone lived and the details hardly mattered to the Æsir. They could go home now. [Let Thor and the Elders deal with him. And leave the spear. They're going to need it.]
"I kind of hoped I would get to keep it as a souvenir," Clint joked half-heartedly, then put it away, propping it up against a wall.
"We really should go," Tony said again and picked up the scepter. "Should we leave that too?"
[No.] It was dangerous to take it back to Earth, but they couldn't just leave it here without warning anyone. Maybe the Æsir mages would figure it out and secure it properly, but Loki didn't want to risk it.
"Great, let's wrap this up and find that path you talked about. I have some serious metal-cutting project to do," he said with a jeer and a meaningful glower at Loki's face. "And I can't wait to get to it."
Oh, yes, Loki was very much looking forward to it, but it would have to wait. [We can't go through it without Natasha's magic. But we have to leave and hide where Heimdall's sight can't see us until she wakes and recovers. I know a place where we can go.]
"Okay," Tony said and Clint nodded. Neither asked for details, trusting his judgment.
Loki lifted Natasha up, one hand under her thighs, the other under her arms.
"You need help?" Clint asked and Loki just shook his head.
They made it maybe five steps towards the exit when the door flew open.
"Sorry, guys," Bruce said.
In the doorway behind him stood Heimdall and, further in the hallway, the helmets of the Einherjar glistened in the torchlight. A whole lot of them.
Loki's heart sunk. The Watcher's gaze had been on them all the time and he had been standing back, waiting for them to finish. And now he had come to collect.
They'd never had a chance.
"You surely can't be thinking of leaving already," Heimdall said with a sly smile. "You'd miss your brother's coronation. And Lady Romanoff looks like she needs rest. I'm sure you don't want to endanger her life, my prince."
It was but a very thinly veiled threat and the title sounded like an insult.
Tony's fingers furled and unfurled around the scepter and Loki wondered whether the man would be able to use it. It didn't really matter though, did it? There were at least a dozen guards, plus Heimdall. That alone would make it a difficult fight, even if Tony's armor was still fully functional, which it didn't seem to be. The Hulk might be of help for a while but – with every guard in the castle on their tails now – there was no way they would make it all the way to the rift without being captured.
Heimdall took a step forward and reached for the scepter. "This should be taken to the vault, it's too dangerous."
Tony stepped away and clutched his fingers closer around the hilt. His eyes dashed to Loki, uncertain.
Loki sighed, making up his mind, then nodded. The plan was ruined. They would not be allowed to leave now. But Loki might yet be able to salvage this. The Æsir didn't care about the humans and didn't believe them capable of thinking on their own. It would be easy to convince them that it had been all Loki's ploy, from the beginning to the end. He could bargain. His cooperation for their lives. He could save their skins at the cost of his own. It was forsaken now anyway.
Tony gingerly handed the scepter to Heimdall and the Watcher examined it critically. "I wonder how a mortal could come into possession of a weapon like this," he mused.
"You know damn well how we got it," Tony snarled.
Heimdall smiled and inclined his head. "Now, if you'd be so kind and follow me, I'll show you to your accommodations."
It wasn't a cell that Heimdall took them to, just a waiting room in the official area of the castle. Loki was under no illusions though. It was a prison, just like the dungeon. The dungeon he would be revisiting, very soon. Perhaps for good this time.
The lock on the door was just as secure, too.
At least they weren't divided and, unlike earlier, Loki would get a chance to say his farewells properly. Once he could bring himself to do so.
For now, he sat on the edge of the futon that Natasha was lying on. She was still unconscious, pale-looking, and the skin of her forehead was clammy to the touch. The link was still active, still draining her, Odin's mind dragging her down. If Loki could use his magic, he would reach out to her in her dreams and help her sever it, but without it, there was nothing to do but hope she'd regain enough strength to wake up and do that herself.
Bruce was sitting in a corner. He didn't say it, but Loki suspected he felt bad for missing his opportunity to Hulk out. Loki didn't want to bring it up unprompted, but it was a good call that he didn't. It wouldn't help the situation and Loki's new plan would be even harder to execute if the Hulk had left a trail of dead Æsir bodies behind.
Clint was pacing, now that he was done ruining a decorative tapestry on the wall with his throwing knife.
Tony knocked his knuckles on the shiny barrier that blocked the window. "Force field, huh?"
He was out of his armor. It was too damaged to fold away and Loki and Clint had needed to help him out by manually ripping off some of the plates and now it was nothing but a pile of bent metal in the corner of the room. Loki was still impressed. It had withstood the power of Odin's magic and saved Tony's life.
[Yes. You didn't think they'd just leave us such a convenient way out, right?]
Tony sighed and shook his head. "Any idea how Natasha magicked the scepter here, all the way from Earth?"
[Yes. Conjuration. It's an advanced area of magic that allows you to move objects from one place to another with your mind.]
"Uhm, so you can just grab anything from anywhere?" Tony asked and jabbed his finger into the barrier again, then frowned as he studied the way the shockwave dissipated and faded. "What's stopping any mage from just taking anything they want?"
[You need to know the exact location first and it would only work with objects you had enchanted earlier for that very purpose.]
"When would she had done that though?" said Bruce from his corner. "It has been in the vault since we brought it back from the Triskelion."
[The scepter is a special case. It possesses powerful magic on its own and it would create a bond with its user. At least that's my theory. You will have to ask Natasha when she wakes up to confirm that.]
Perhaps Loki would still be around for that, perhaps not.
"So, no way to use the same kind of magic to whisk us out of here and back home?"
Loki shook his head.
"Oh, well, it was worth asking," Tony murmured then went to inspect the stone arch that created the window. Loki didn't tell him it was pointless. There was no machine for Tony to tinker with. It was just magic, embedded into the stone itself, that created the barrier.
Loki gently lowered Natasha's arm that rested on his lap, tugged the blanket closer around her shoulders and went to stand by Tony's side at the window.
It was on the eastern wall of the castle, facing the Einherjar barracks and the royal forge and offered a view of the mountain range surrounding the city and the rising sun just above the peaks. The curtains swayed in the low breeze. The barrier allowed for air to pass through, but not solid objects.
Tony picked a sharp piece from the heap of discarded metal and was now jabbing it into the stone, right where the barrier merged with it. It produced quite an annoying sound, if Loki was to be honest, but he left Tony at it without a comment. He wasn't one to sit idly and do nothing anyway.
"Can you stop?" Natasha rasped and stirred, "my head is fucking killing me."
Tony stopped and Loki dashed back to her side. He sat at the edge of the sofa.
"Hey," she said and smiled brightly. She reached up and her fingers traced a line from his temple, across his cheek, over the metal and down the side of his neck. "You're all right."
[I am.]
The smile grew even wider, just for a moment, before she looked around and took in her surroundings. "Where are we?"
[Still in Asgard. There was a complication. Heimdall stopped us before we could leave the castle.]
"Shit. So, what's the plan now?"
Loki swallowed around the metal, as if it could buy him time, and only succeeded at setting his throat to throbbing again. A thought to just lie crossed his mind and he squashed it quickly. His promise still stood. It would always stand, as long as he was alive. [I'll try reasoning with Thor,] he said carefully.
"You think he might let us go?" she asked.
There was an ambiguity to the question he could exploit. [Yes, it's possible.]
Her brows furrowed. "Do you think he would let you go?"
Loki closed his eyes and brought his hand up to answer.
There was a shuffle outside, the door opened, and a man walked inside, trailed by six guards. He was wearing the official garb of the royal chancellor, but Loki could only vaguely place his face. Had he been one of the scribes before? Whatever had happened to Galdr?
The man performed a small bow, addressing nobody in particular. "The Council of the Elders has concluded the meeting. Your presence is required in the royal hall," he said, his eyes sliding between the humans and landing on Loki, just briefly, with a barely concealed scowl.
That didn't spell anything good. Loki would get no chance to talk to Thor before the coronation and the Council had undoubtedly called for the judgment to take place immediately after it was done. It would be, after all, still a piece of the show.
"All of us?" Tony made sure.
The chancellor nodded curtly. "Unless your companion still requires rest. I'm sure an exception could be made for that," he said, looking at Natasha.
"Oh hell no," she uttered and heaved herself up. Loki stopped himself before he moved to help her. If Njal – or whoever else was pulling the strings now – knew they had any sort of special relationship they would try using it against Loki in a way that none of them would enjoy very much.
Loki was urged to go first, between a pair of guards. They didn't remove the shackles – nor the gag – but no new chains were placed on him either and for that Loki counted himself lucky. At least he could walk to the royal hall for the last time without tripping.
They were led through the side entrance and Loki inadvertently stopped when inside. It was not feasible – the news didn't have enough time to carry that far and wide – but it seemed like the whole Asgard had gathered in the throne room.
The humans were beckoned into the first row – the one usually reserved for the most esteemed guests that now stood empty, as no special delegations were present – but when Loki moved to follow, an armored hand on his shoulder stopped him.
"You've been called to the dais," the chancellor said and two guards moved to escort him.
"Hey, what's the meaning of this?" Natasha demanded, stepping out of the line the Einherjar instructed them to form.
[It's all right,] Loki showed and folded his hands to stop himself from saying more. This might be the last opportunity, but the less attention he drew to the humans, the higher their chances would be to make it out unscathed.
"Okay," she said uncertainly and gave Loki a small, encouraging smile. He matched it, the best he could, then turned, to not give the guards an opening to use force.
The dais was empty and the moment they started to climb the stairs, Loki felt the eyes of everyone gathered raising the hair on his neck, followed by a hushed murmur of agitated whispers. Everyone in the hall must've been asking the same question Loki was asking himself. Why was he here now? It wouldn't be after the official part before his presence was required.
The guards led him to a place a bit off-center of the rostrum, then stepped away. He had nowhere to run anyway.
Before he gathered the courage to look up and meet the gazes of the crowd the main gate flew open and Thor walked in.
Thor had taken his time to change and now stood proud and tall in his gleaming armor, with his cape cascading down from his wide shoulders, sweeping the floor. He didn't have Mjölnir – Odin's spell still remained on him and would only be broken once the All-Father's force granted to Thor by the land under their very feet flowed through him – but he still looked grand. Royal.
He was smiling and waving at the crowd as he walked down the hall. Loki stood there, watching him go, paralyzed with fear and overwhelming heartache. It was Thor's moment of glory and Loki's moment of shame and defeat. Today, Thor would be king, and Loki would lose everything that he still held dear in his heart. One last time.
Tears stung in his eyes and he swallowed them. He would not be seen standing here, weeping over his miserable existence while all of Asgard watched.
Thor reached the stairs and looked up at Loki. His lips parted in a smile, one of those he always wore when he was particularly proud of himself for one reason or another and the ball of sorrow in Loki's stomach twisted and grew. He was clinging to Thor's words, back in the gardens, for the last scrap of hope, and now even that was gone. Thor would condemn him not with a heavy heart, having been swayed by the Council, but with a smile on his face. It was not the Thor that tried to reason with Loki on the top of Tony's tower, when he was driven to madness by the scepter. It was the Thor who snarled at Loki when he spoke up and grinned when Odin punished him.
Thor walked to the top of the platform and turned back to the gathering for one last, victorious wave. A surge of bile rose in Loki's throat and his head swam, a wave of sheer exhaustion washing over him. The last form of sustenance had been the meal Bruce had cooked for him, back on Earth, and he barely had slept since he had been brought to Asgard. This was the moment his body finally caught up.
Njal approached from the Elder's lodge, carrying the crown, and the cheers faded to murmurs and died.
Every set of eyes was turned to the dais. Towards their new king.
Elder Njal walked up to the dais and spoke. "Thor, son of Odin, grandson of Bor, crown prince of Asgard and rightful heir to the throne, wielder of the mighty hammer Mjölnir," he listed.
Thor bowed his head, acknowledging the titles.
"You stand before the witness of our people, having defended the Realm Eternal and the rest of the Nine Realms from foes guided by hate and hunger for power and those born of madness alike. You have proven yourself worthy of the faith entrusted in you by your predecessor and by your subjects," Njal carried on.
Thor fell to one knee.
"Do you swear to guard the Nine Realms?"
"I swear."
"Do you swear to put the common prosperity of your people above personal ambition?"
"I swear."
"Do you swear to protect the peace?"
"I swear."
"With the power granted to me by the Council of Elders of the Realm Eternal, I, Njal, son of Ulf, hereby pronounce you king of Asgard, protector of the Nine Realms." With that, Njal placed the crown on Thor's temples. Two Einherjar approached and placed Gungnir in Thor's hand and Thor rose, raising the spear in a gesture of triumph.
Ovations and cheers began again, slow and hesitant at first but going louder and more enthusiastic until the hall roared with applause. People dropped to their knees, one after another, in a show of allegiance to their new king.
Loki's skin prickled. He was where he had been ordered to stand, but it couldn't be right. He was out of place here. His starved, wasted body, the scars marking his flesh, the chains still dangling from manacles around his bloodied wrists and ankles, the collar clasped around his neck, the dirty prison rags he was wearing, the strands of unwashed hair falling over his face, the metal bit between his teeth… His looks alone were an offense, marring the happy scene for all gathered, ruining Thor's moment of glory. Not to mention his status and what it implied.
No matter what Thor was about to do with him afterward, Loki had no right to do that, not again.
There were stairs, concealed behind the throne, leading down to the vestry. He could take them to make his exit. Not to run. It was pointless and there was nowhere to run to, not anymore. But he couldn't stay where he was. He would be better off taking cover behind the curtains, out of sight and out of minds of Thor's people, at least until the ceremony was done and Thor called him forth for judgment. That way he could enjoy the last moments in the light without enforcing his unwanted presence onto everyone gathered, out of range of their judgmental stares…
He tilted his head up and stayed where he was.
It was all their doing. Thor, Heimdall, the Elders. Every single person in the hall had stood aside and had done nothing, for centuries. They contributed to who Loki had become as much as Odin, and he was now here so they could marvel at the job they'd done.
Thor turned sharply, the newly restored power of the gods dancing in his blue eyes, and Loki's persistence wavered. And he just knew. Thor might still be his brother by oath, but he was his king now, first and foremost, and Loki's life and the lives of his friends lay in his hands, just as firmly as they did in Odin's before. The time for skulking away had ran out, and Thor knew that, too.
Loki fell to his knees and bowed his head, so low it almost touched the floor. It was the only proper way to face a king for the likes of him.
Thor approached and crouched at his side. His hand fell on Loki's shoulder.
"Brother," he said, a mixture of emotion Loki couldn't name stirring in his voice, "you know I cannot overthrow Odin's ruling on you as long as he lives."
Loki understood, of course. The king's word becomes law. That law cannot be altered, not until the death of its maker voids its power and it ceases and becomes volatile and susceptible to change. It was an ancient, sacred rule, one of the lynchpins of Æsir royal tradition, and Thor couldn't disregard it, not if he didn't want to undermine his own claim to the crown. Even questioning it out loud would lead to unrest, or a rebellion, and Asgard needed a strong, incontestable leader, now more than ever. Loki knew the consequences of his actions the moment he had stopped his hand. He would remain a prisoner for as long as Odin's life lasted.
He nodded.
The best he could do now was show Thor that he was loyal and hope it would curry the king's favor. It was always a good fortune to have that, Loki imagined, and more so to someone in Loki's position. At Thor's mercy, he might be spared the roughest of treatments at the hands of the guards, or negotiate some of the harsh conditions of his imprisonment to be lessened, the loopholes in Odin's adjudication exploited.
Perhaps Thor would even grant him the privilege to receive visitors?
But, most importantly, it put an expiration date on the sentence. Odin might have been strong and powerful once, but now he was old, and his mind was not as sharp as it used to be. It couldn't be more than a few decades…
Thor's hand squeezed his shoulder and it felt like something breaking inside, something brittle and strained crumbling away. It's okay, Loki wanted to say. I can take it. Just order it and have it done and over with. He couldn't even say it. Thor could not understand his signs and the humans were too far away. So Loki swallowed the tears that threatened their way out again, pushed himself off the floor into a kneel, lifted his gaze and nodded again, putting as much confidence as he could muster into the motion. Thor knew him and he would understand.
The corners of Thor's lips rode up in a small smile. "There's another way."
Loki's eyes narrowed and Thor's smile widened into a grin. Before he could convince himself otherwise, Loki reached for his hand, to stop him, to ask for explanations, but Thor was already turning away to face the room again.
"People of Asgard," he addressed the crowd, his voice booming with surety. "I stand before you now as your rightful king, with the best interest of the Realm Eternal and her people in my heart."
There were a few cheers and Thor waited them out before he continued. He had picked up a thing or two about making public appearances, after all.
"The day was heavy with historic events and fraught with revelations and we look with hope to what tomorrow might bring. Yet the sun has not yet set on us and I have another important announcement to make."
The response was a lot more reserved this time.
"It is not only my privilege, but also my duty as a king to present you with an heir, to cement the stability of Asgard's might. But, as it stands, I've been dallying in that one aspect, not for lack of attempts," Thor paused, giving the room time to react to the joke – very Midgardian in its nature, Loki noted – but there were only a couple of uneasy chuckles. "Faced with the lack of offspring of my own blood, the rules of Æsir law grant me the right to name the heir from another lineage."
Loki's eyes widened as he finally grasped Thor's intentions. No, he shook his head. You can't do this! He willed himself to move, to stop Thor from making that unforgivable mistake, but his limbs refused, frozen in place with dread and fatigue.
And perhaps there was still a tiny spark of curiosity left in him and it wanted nothing more than to see how the whole scene would end.
"As so, I'm honored to present to you my lawful successor," Thor carried on, unabashed. He turned back to Loki. "Rise," he whispered, and – when Loki didn't react – he grabbed his arms and pulled him up, gently but firmly. "I hereby name Loki of Jötunheimr, son of King Laufey of the Jötnar, and my brother by oath, as my heir apparent and the new future ruler of Asgard."
Loki's knees buckled. Thor held onto his arm and kept him upright on his wobbly legs. The room was silent with consternated anticipation.
"Now, seeing that this part has gone down smoothly, here's to another," Thor uttered, his words piercing the silence. Some disgruntled murmurs in the front rows and whispers further down the hall could be heard. He smiled at Loki and spoke again, louder this time. "I, Thor the All-Father, king of Asgard and protector of the Nine Realms, hale of body and sound of mind, hereby forswear my title as king and pass it on onto my rightful heir."
The room erupted into turmoil. People rose to their feet and shouts filled the air, merging into a roar. Some went as far as to try to storm up the stairs to protest more bodily, forcing the Einherjar to create a protective circle around the dais.
Thor took the crown off his head. "Let it be done," he said, and placed it on Loki's temples. It slipped down and fell to his forehead. Thor pushed Gungnir into his hand.
Loki just stood there, petrified. His mind was completely blank as he stared numbly at his own fingers gripping the hilt of the spear, its support now the only thing keeping him from toppling over and crumbling to the ground. His hand was dirty with grime embedded in the crinkles of his skin and dried blood under his fingernails.
Thor fell to one knee and bowed his head. On the other side of the rostrum, Njal looked around warily, considered for a couple of heartbeats, and did so. Then came the rest of the Elders, then the Einherjar. The upheaval slowly settled, until citizens of Asgard watched the scene playing out before their eyes in silence.
Old Grir was the first to kneel. Then general Tyr. Then came the others, one after one. Natasha was on her knees too, and her hand flew up and dragged Stark to the ground as well.
And so, Loki was the only one in the entire hall still standing, his mind in utter chaos.
Since his early adolescent years, since the moment Loki comprehended what it meant to be a king, different versions of this scene had played out in his head, again and again. He had not let go of that fantasy even after understanding his role as second prince and realizing how unlikely it was for him to ever become ruler of Asgard. He had gone over every possibility, every scenario, twisting and turning it inside his mind, until he'd gotten it perfectly. He thought he had imagined them all.
But not this.
The king stands above any law or rule.
Thor couldn't overwrite Odin's ruling, but he could make Loki exempt from it.
All it took was renouncing his birthright…
Loki's fingers, still wrapped tightly around Gungnir, tingled. A buzz ran up his arm and spilled all over his body as the ancient magic circled through him, filling him with energy, numbing the pains he hadn't even registered anymore, restoring the long-lost sense of the world around him. The barriers surrounding his core cracked and fell apart and it burst to life under his eyelids all at once, as lively and as beautiful as it had ever been.
The shackles crumbled away. One brush of his fingers, and the collar slipped off and dissipated to dust before it even hit the floor.
He reached for his face and ran his trembling fingers over the metal. It yielded, bending under the power of the old Æsir magic, folding into itself. He pulled it free. The dreadful apparatus clattered to the ground, now nothing more than a piece of scrap.
His skin tingled with the rush of air.
The magic flowing in his veins yearned to mend it but he stopped it.
They had to see. They had to understand.
Loki took a step forward.
"People of Asgard," he said. His voice was but a weak whisper and he couldn't quite keep it from wavering. The crowd was dead silent and it carried far. "I accept the duties placed upon me by my new role."
Thor's arm wrapped around his shoulders and squeezed reassuringly. Loki turned his head to speak, his knees buckled, the world shifted and faded away.